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SCOTS WOBTHIES:
THE
THEIR LIVES AND TESTIMONIES.
LADIES
AND
OF THE COVENANT.








'D'li'l'li
.L TY 1'





0
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‘$1.5 - :-i-~.
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1'FE-HY"?Z
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THE
SCOTS WORTHIES:
LIVES AND TESTIMONIE S.
WITH AN HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION AND APPENDIX,
ALSO
A.SUPPLEMENT
CONTAINING MEMDIRS.AND HISTORICAL SKETCHES(1F
LADIES OF THE COVENANT.
ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.


LONDON:
BLACKIE & SON}()LD BAILEY,11C;
GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.
1879


GLASGOW’!
\V. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PRINTERQ.
VILLA FIELD.


PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE.

11‘ would indeed be a work of supererogation, at least in Scotland, to insist
upon the merits and the stirring interest of that truly household work, The
Scots Worthies. Like the Pilgrim’s Progress, it has been so long extensively
popular with all classes of the community, that it has secured for itself a position
from which it will never be dislodged, so long as Presbyterianism, and a religious
attachment to the covenanted work of Reformation, continue to engage the
attention of the natives of Scotland.
In this edition the leading features in the plan of the original compiler, JOHN
HoWIE of Lochgoin, have been faithfully adhered to; but, under the editorship
of JAMES Howie, A.M., all the lives have been revised, a number of important
additions have been made to those of several of the more distinguished leaders
in the Reformation; while others have been entirely remodelled, for the purpose
of embracing much rare information derived from authentic sources to which
the general public have had no access. Still further to enhance the value of
this edition, the Testimonies of the persecuted sufferers, recorded as having been
emitted by them previous to their death, has been appended to the respective
Lives. A Life of the Author, compiled from materials furnished by his sons,
has been prefixed to the Vslork. An Appendix is also given, containing copies
of the Protestations and Declarations emitted at various times by the Cove-
nanters, with the minutes of the Glasgow Assembly in 1638, and succinct narra-
tives of the battles at Pentland, Drumclog, Both well Bridge, and Airsmoss.
The Work is preceded by an HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION, by the Rev. ROBERT
BUCHANAN, D.D., Glasgow, in which is exhibited a connected view of the glorious
cause in which our reforming forefathers so nobly struggled to secure their
religious liberties.
The value of this edition is further increased by the addition of an impor-
tant Supplement, in which, under the general title of LADIES OF THE
COVENANT, are comprised memoirs and historical sketches of the “FELLALE
COVENANTERS,” and of those ladies who sympathized with and protected the
persecuted, written by the Rev. J AMES ANDERSON, author of The Martyrs of the
Bass. The talent of the author as a narrator, and the active part taken by our
countrywomen in succouring and encouraging God’s people during times of
suffering and danger, contribute to render this portion of the Vvlork as fasci-
nating as it is instructive.
Gussow, January, 1876.






TABLE'OF
LIFE OF JOHN HowIE, .
ITISTORICAL INTRODUCTION,
ROBERT BUCHANAN, D.l).,
JOHN HowIE’s PREFACE,
INTRODUCTION,
THE SCOTS
PAGE
. . . . . vii
by the Rev.
I . . xiii
l5
LIvEs AND TESTIMONIES.
Patrick Hamilton, . 24,
George \Vishart, . 33,
Adam \Vallace, . . 58,
‘Walter Mill, . . . 70,
His Testimony, 31
His Testimony, 53
His Testimony, 68
His Testimony, 74
James Stuart, Earl of Moray, . . . . 76
John Knox, . . 104,
George Buchanan, .
John Erskine of Dun,
Robert Rollock,. . 214,
John Craig, .
David Black, .
John Davidson, .
Andrew Melville, .
\Villiam Row,
Patrick Simpson,
Andrew Duncan, . 27
John Scrimgeour, .
John 'Welch, .
7
7
Robert Bruce,
J osias VVelch,
. 311,
John Gordon, Viscount Kenmure,
Robert Cunningham, 2332,
James Mitchell,. . 334,
Alexander Henderson,
George Gillespie, . 35
John M‘Clelland, . 356,
David Calderwood,
Hugh Binning, .
Andrew Gray,
James Durham, .
'3
I)
\0
. 283,
Robert Boyd of Trochrig,
. 369,
His Testimony, 180
. 186
. . . . . . 202
His Testimony, 216
. 221
. 224
. 227
. 233
. 268
. . . . 271
His Testimony, 279
. . . . 281
His Testimony, 297
. . . . . . 301
His Testimony, 319
. 319
. 321
His Testimony, His Testimony,
His Testimony, His Testimony, 359
. 360
. . . . . . 3623
His Testimony, 371
. 373

CONTENTS.
WORTHIE S.
Samuel Rutherford, 378, His Testimony,
Archibald Campbell, Marquis of Argyle, .
His Testimony, . . . . . . .
James Guthrie, . . 397, His Testimony,
William Govan,. . 405, His Testimony,
John Campbell, Earl of London, .
Robert Baillie,
David Dickson, . . . . . . . .
Sir Archibald Johnston, Lord WVarriston,
His Testimony, . . . . . . . . .
James Wood, . 426, His Testimony,
William Guthrie,
Robert Blair,
Hugh M‘Kail,
John N evay, .
John Livingstone,
John Semple, . . . . . . . .
James Mitchell, . 467, His Testimony,
Colonel James \Vallace, .
John Welwood, . . . .
William Gordon of Earlstoun, .
John King and John Kid, .
Testimony of John Kid,
Testimony of John King,
John Brown, . 498,
. 445, His Testimony,
His Testimon ’ "
3
Henry Hall of Haugh-head. '08
Richard Cameron, . . . . . 510
David Hackston of Rathillet, . . 516
His Testimony, . . . 519
Robert Ker of K ersland, . . . . . . 525
Donald Cargill, . . 527, His Testimony, 536
His Testimony, 539
\Valter Smith, . ,
5
57
42, His Testimony, I
Robert Garnock, 551
Robert MacVVard, . . . . . . . . 553
( ‘aptain John Paton, 559, His Testimony, 56S
tobert Baillie of Jerviswood, . . 571
John Brown of Priesthill, . 575
John Nisbet of Hardhill, . 582
His Testimony, . 589




viii* TABLE CF CONTENTS.











PAGE PAGE
Alexander Peden, . . 599 VL—Account of the Rising which
John Blackadder, . . . . . . . . 607 ended in the defeat at Pentland,
James Renwick, . 612, His Testimony, 627 anno 1666,. . . . . . 701
vIL—Account of the Rising which
gUPPLEMENT’ _ 631 originated the Battle of Drumclog,
and ended in the defeat at Both-
Alexander Moncrieff, . . 632 well Bridge, anno 1679, 702
Angus M‘Bean, . . 634 vIIL—The Declaration and Testimony of
Thomas Hog, . 635 some of the True Presbyterian
Robert Fleming, . 639 Party in Scotland, published at
Alexander Shields, . . . . . . 642 Ruthergleu, May 29, 1679, 710
John Dickson, . 645, His Testimony, 647 1X.—-Account of the Skirmish at Airs-
Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston, . . 649 moss, 1680, . . . . . 710
His Testimony,. . 652 X.——Declaration published at Glasgow,
William Veitch, . 653 June 13, 1679, . . . . . 71
John Balfour of Kinloch, . 658 XL—Queensferry Paper, June 4, 1680, . 711
Andrew Simpson, . . 659 xiL—Sanquhar Declaration, June 22,
William Scott, . 659 1680,. . . . . . . . . . . 11»;
XML—Declaration published at Lanark,
APPENDIX, _ 661 January 12, 1682, 715
xiv—Acts of Parliament, . . 716
I.—-Protestation ofi‘ered to the Estates Xv.——~Statutes of the Church regarding
convened in Parliament at Perth, Patronage and the Settlement of
anno 1606, . . . . . . 661 Ministers,‘ . 723
II.—The Five Articles of Perth, . . 662 XVI.——Th6 Protest, . . . . 725
IIL—Report of Proceedings of the XVIL—Her Majesty’s Letter to the General
General Assembly at Glasgow, Assembly, . . . . . . 727
1638,. . . . . . . . . . . 603 XvilL—Act of Separation and Deed of
Iv.—-Abstract of the Speech of Lord Demission, . . . . . . . 7:27
Warriston, before the Westmin- XIX.—Abridged Proceedings of the First
ster Assembly, after the delivery Assembly of the Free Church of
of some Queries from the Parlia- Scotland, convened at Edinburgln. 731
ment, . . . . . . . . . . 699 XX.—Abridged Proceedings of the
v.——Mr. Guthrie’s Speech in Parlia- Second General Assembly of the
ment, immediately after the read- Free Church of Scotland, held at
ing of his process, April 11, 1611, 700 Glasgow, 710
LADIES OF THE COVENANT.
PAGE PAGE
INTRODUCTION, . vii Mrs. William Veitch, . 68
Mrs. John Livingstone, &c., . . . '79
MEMOIRS' Lady Anne Lindsay, Duchess of Rothes, . 89
The Marchioness of Hamilton, 1 Lady Mary Johnston, Countess of Craw-
Lady Boyd, . . . . . . 5 ford, . . . . . . . . . . . 96
Elizabeth Melvill, Lady Culross, . 12 Barbara Cunningham, Lady Caldwell, . . 100
The Viscountess of Kenmure, . 19 Lady Colvill,. . . . . . . . 11.1
The Marchioness of Argyll,. . . 31 Catherine Rigg, Lady Cavers, . . 117
Mrs. Guthrie, Mrs. Durham, and Mrs. Isabel Alison, . 127
Carstairs, . . . . . . . . 44 Marion Harvey, . . . . 135
Lady Anne, Duchess of Hamilton, 53 Helen Johnston, Lady Graden, . 141



TABLE
CONTENTS.
OF



Lilias Dunbar, Mrs. Campbell,
PAGE
. 148
Margaret M‘Lauchlan and Margaret Wilson, 1 61
Lady Anne Mackenzie, Countess of Bal-
carres, afterwards Countess of Argyll, . 170
Lady Campbell of Auchinbreck, . . 190
Lady Baillie of Jerviswood, . . 206
Lady Catherine Hamilton, Duchess of
Atholl, . . 222
APPENDIX.
I.-—Letter of Mr. M‘lVard to Lady
Ardross, . . . . . . . . . . 229
IL—Marchieness of Argyll’s interview
with Middleton, after the condem-
nation of her husband, . . . . . 229
IIL—Marchioness of Argyll and her son
the Earl of Argyll, . . 229
IV.—Letter of Mrs. Carstairs to her
husband, . . . _ . . 229
v.—Suspected Corruption of Clarendon’s
History, . 229
x II I. -—Extracts
XIV.-—Sufferings of Sir Duncan

vL—Indictment of Isabel Alison and
Marion Harvey,
VIL—Apprehension of Hume of Graden,
and the scuffle in which Ker of
Heyhope was killed,. . . . .
vIIL—The fiery cross carried through
Morayshire in 1679, . . .
Ix.-—Desired extension of the Indulgence
to Morayshire, . . . . . .
x.--Sense in which the Covenanters
refused to say “God save the King,”
xI.~—Countess of Argyll’s sympathy with
the Covenanters, .
xIL—A Letter of the Earl of Argyll to
his Lady in ciphers, . . .
from a Letter of the
Countess of Argyll to her son the
Earl of Balcarres, . . . . . .
Camp-
bell of Auchinbreck, .







BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
OF
JOHN HOWIE.
BEFORE entering upon the following brief Memoir
of one who has contributed more to the biogra-
phical information of the Scottish peasantry than
authors of greater celebrity, it may not be uninter-
esting to delineate the site of his humble dwelling-
place, Which was so often the rendezvous and re-
treat of the persecuted Covenanters, at the time
when they were hunted like beasts of prey, from
hill to hill, and when it often became necessary for
them to take refuge in dens and caves of the earth.
Lochgoin, (see engraving p. 563,) although only
an humble cottage, and possessing perhaps more of
the appearance of the “olden time" than many of
the same grade at the present day, has yet attrac-
tions more Omnipotent over the associations of
every Scottish Presbyterian, than the turreted re-
mains of the baronial castle, whose most strenuous
defender had bled and died for his country’s civil
rights. This lonely secluded spot is situated in
the parish of Fenwick, in the county of Ayr, about
two miles from the King’s-wells Inn, on the road
from Glasgow to Kilmarnock; distant from the
former fifteen miles, and about two from the latter.
There is not in Scotland, perhaps, a situation more
dreary and sequestered, with the exception of
King’s-house, near the mountains of Glencoe; yet,
though in itself retired and uninviting, it looks out
upon scenery as picturesque, sublime, and romantic,
as is to be met with among the rugged mountains
of Switzerland.
From an artificial eminence about a hundred
yards from the cottage, which was raised for the
purpose of watching the movements of the king’s

troops in the time of the persecution, and to give no- 1 whose bleak and lonely bosom rises Cameron’s
tice of their approach, the prospect is indescribably 2
Towards the north, the eye "
grand and extensive.
rests upon the lofty mountains in Argyleshire; and , Brown, the Christian Carrier, and the scene of his
in the same direction, Benlomond is beautifully
conspicuous. The Kilbirnie range, nearer and mere 1

lowly, limit the view towards the west. Goatfell,
in the isle of Arran; the Pap of J ura; and Ailsa
Crag, although removed to a much greater dis-
tance, are distinctly visible. On the south, the
prospect is terminated by the blue hills of Carrick,
and the far distant range in Galloway; and, upon
ascending a heathy eminence about a mile distant,
Tinto, the remote Pentlands, and even Arthur’s
Seat, meet the eye as it moves along towards
the east. Onward, the verdant Ochils beyond
Stirling, and the less lofty, though not less beauti-
ful, hills of Campsie complete the circumference.
Within this vast barrier, the whole seems but one
misty waste of moor, where scarcely any human habi—
tation is visible, save the shepherd’s cot; and where
no sound is to be heard but the voice of the shep—
herd himself directing his faithful dog; the bleating
of the sheep; and the cry of the feathered foreign-
ers that have fled for a time from the regions of a
more inclement sky, until winter once more com—
pels them to seek the shelter of a milder climate.
In winter, the scene is bleak beyond description;
and terrible, when the uncontrolled winds sweep
along the trackless expanse in fitful fury. The only
exception to the general dreariness of the scene
is a portion of the fertile lands of Ayrshire, conti-
guous to the firth of Clyde, apparently slumbering
like a peaceful lake at the base of the lofty Arran.
Distant only a few miles is Loudonhill, near the
battle-field of Drumclog; and almost at its base, a
cairn of stones, commemorative of the ,spot where
the Covenanters worshipped on the morning of the
conflict. A few miles further off is Airsmoss, from
monumental stone; and a mile or rather more dis-
tant stands Priesthill, the hallowed house of John
infamous murder by the bloody Claverhouse. Not
so remote stands Loudon house, the residence



viii
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN IIOWIE.



of the Campbells, marked out by the tops of the
many woods in which it is imbosomed; and just
beyond the environs is Hardhill, where Nisbet lived.
Meadowhead, the ancient residence of Captain
Paton, and other farm-houses, occupy a more culti-
vated locality in the same parish. To this day the
repetition of the troublous times in which those
devoted martyrs lived, forms the subject of many
a winter evening’s conversation; and the church of
Fenwick, where the pious Guthrie so successfully
dispensed the word of life, is still pointed to as a
relique dear to the descendants of the Covenanters.
Such is an imperfect outline of Lochgoin, the resi-
dence of the HowIEs.
The Howies appear to have been originally of
French extraction,—such at least is the tradition
of the family, and we have no reason to question
its accuracy. The severities to which the Wal-
denses were subjected, during the twelfth century,
‘ compelled many of that body to leave their native
country and seek refuge in distant lands. It was
during that period that three brothers, surnamed
Howie, took up their residence in the west of Scot-
land; one in the parish of Mearns; another in the
parish of Craigie; while the third chose for his
place of abode the sequestered Lochgoin, which,
after the lapse of more than six hundred years, his
descendants still occupy. And the tradition re-
ceives farther confirmation from the fact, that this
is almost the only part of Scotland where persons
hearing this name are to be met with.
About the period of the Reformation, we find
their posterity adhering boldly to the cause of Pro-
testantism, a circumstance which renders it highly
probable that, notwithstanding the proselytizing
spirit of the age in which they lived, the humble
occupants of Lochgoin had never swerved from the
faith of their fathers. It was not, however, till the
period of the second Reformation, that the Howies
were brought into prominent notice, by becoming
sufferers for the truth. Nor were these sufferings
of a trivial nature. Lochgoin, as the reader has
already seen, being peculiarly favourable for con-
cealment, had often afforded an asylum to the
harassed Covenanters when flying from their ruth-
less persecutors; and thus the inmates themselves
became also the objects of the most rigorous op-
pression. Not only were they twelve different
times subjected to confiscation of property; but,
upon one occasion, their cattle were driven to the
market-cross of Kilmarnock and exposed for sale;
the Howies themselves were declared rebels to
the government; their names were inserted in the
fugitives’ roll; and they, with hundreds more, were
compelled to bet-ake themselves for concealment
to the mountains and moors.

John Howie, the subject of this memoir, who has
given so much additional celebrity to the family,
was born at Lochgoin on the 14th November, 1735.
His father, John Howie also, dying suddenly when
our biographer was only about a year old, the
child was removed to Blackhill, a farm in the parish
of Kilmarnock, at that time the residence of his
maternal grandparents, who took upon themselves
the charge of his education. Being pious and
intelligent, the advantages which the youth derived,
both from their tuition and example, were invalua-
ble. Indeed his future life bespoke the correctness
of his early tuition; having been alike free from
severity on the one hand, and from over indulgence
on the other. In addition to the instructions he
received from his grandfather, he was put to two
country schools in the neighbourhood; the one at
VVhirlhall, taught by an uncle of the family name;
and the other at Horsehill, conducted by a person of
the name of Adam Millar. If the reader—keeping
in mind that John Howie possessed hardly an ordi~
nary education, and that his youthful years were
devoted chiefly to the customary sports and recrea-
tions of the neighbourhood where he had been
brought up—contrast the advances in religious
knowledge and information which, by his own un-
aided exertions, he made in his youth, and at a
subsequent period of his life, with the usual amount
of intelligence generally to be found among people
of his station in life, he cannot fail to be regarded
as a person of unwonted talent.
The first important event in the life of this re-
markable man was his connubial union with a person
of the name of Lindsay, who, however, did not
long survive the nuptials; for, falling into con-
sumption, she died soon after, leaving behind her an
infant son. In 1766, about four years after that
distressing event, he entered a second time into the
matrimonial state; the object of his attachment at
this time being a cousin of his own. She is repre-
sented as having been singularly eminent for piety,
and in every respect a helpmate suited to his taste
and habits. The fruits of this union were five
sons and three daughters.
According to his own account, it was not till
after the second marriage that his early religious
impressions assumed the form of decided piety.
About a year after his first marriage he entered
to the farm of Lochgoin, which, from the nature
of the soil not admitting of extensive manual
cultivation, left him sufficient leisure to prosecute.
the studies to which he had habituated himself from
his youth; viz. church history, and religious biogra-
phy. N o sooner, therefore, had he settled down to
a systematic mode of study, than it seems to have
occurred to him that he might turn to good ac-




BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOWVIE. ix




count the information he had obtained of the life
and sufferings of some of those eminent VVORTI-IIES,
whom he had been taught from his earliest years
to revere and admire.
The account which he gives of the method he
took to collect materials for the “fork is at once so
simple and graphic that we shall present it to the
reader in his own words. The chief obstacle which
he appears to have had to encounter arose from
the opposition of his own pious wife.
“I took up a resolution to collect what materials
I could obtain, and write a kind of Lives of a num-
ber of them, which I did at leisure hours, with
small views that even anything I could do should
merit the publishing of them. However my mo-
tives were ingenuous, out of love to them and their
contendings, or cause they contended for, and the
Lord determined that they both should be publish-
ed, and happily they were much esteemed by men
of all ranks and denominations. \Vhile I was
writing the first draught of the Scors \Vonrmns,
sometimes in the morning, one morning my wife,
who was not without an inclination to religion, be-
ing in bed in the little closet where I was writing,
was going to give me a reproof for my folly in
writing; what would I do but make people laugh
at my folly! Immediately these words came into
her mind, Mark 37; ‘ He hath done all things
well; he maketh the deaf to hear and the dumb to
speak;’ after which she durst never again speak
against it.”
Though, however, no other person appears to
have had the courage to undertake the subject, we
believe that John Howie, while employed at his
literary labours, was the subject of considerable
animadversion among many of his neighbours,
who were but ill able to appreciate the worth of
his intellectual pursuits. As might have been ex-
pected, he was accused of indolence; inasmuch as,
while engaged in what appeared to them a pro-
fitless concern, he was neglecting his worldly inter-
ests, by not attending more assiduously to the cul-
tivation of his farm. It was particularly observed
during the hay season, that though the good man
would at intervals lay aside his books, step out to the
field, and for a short time put on an air of extreme
hustle and activity, yet it was seen over; so that
among the more ez'dentf‘ of his professional brethren
he never acquired a character for steady and en-
during labour. To a certain extent- these observa-
tions might be perhaps true; but when we consider
the immense service he was at that very time ren-
dering to the church, to the cause of presbytery,
and to posterity, we cannot join in the cry of cen-
* Diligent.

sure; but must repel their conclusions as short-
sighted. Had the complainers but taken the
trouble to inquire, they might have ascribed the
somewhat irregular movements of the worthy bio-
grapher to a different cause. It was well known
that Mr Howie, who died at a comparatively
early age, was never a man of robust constitution.
Symptoms of physical dcbility began to show them-
selves in his boyhood; and that very disease which
brought him prematurely to his grave, had even
then marked him out as its easy victim! In perus-
ing his diary we find fi'equent allusions to a variety
of ailments with which he was often afliieted; and
on examining the parlour or spence, with its damp
floor and walls, we do not hesitate to say that the
maladies of which he complained must have been
greatly aggravated, by the atmosphere in which his
studies were prosecuted. Another circumstance
which must have contributed to prevent Mr Howie
from exhibiting the usual steady industry of moor-
land farmers was, the number of visitors who came
to wait upon him at Lochgoin. These, attracted
by the fame of his literary pursuits, were exceed-
ingly numerous, and composed of all classes in the
religious world.
Since we have gone thus far, however, in endea-
vouring to account for his general character as a
farmer, it would be unfair not to state distinctly, that
he evinced great anxiety for the temporal welfare
of his numerous family. So far, indeed, was he
from being indifferent to worldly matters, that,
upon perusing his diary, we find him repeatedly
accusing himself of carrying the principle of paren-
tal anxiety to a length bordering on criminality.
The life of a moorland farmer, even although
combined with that of literary pursuits, cannot be
supposed to furnish any great variety of adventure
or incident; still such alife is not without its in-
terest. The circumstance of Mr Howie rising soon
after cock-crowing, for the purpose of engaging in
severe and not very inviting study before commen-
cing the labour of the day, is worthy of admiration;
and then, with his mind full of his subject, after
having added a few more pages to the lVork which
has stamped his name with renown; after having
partaken of his homely meal, sallying forth, per-
haps barefooted, into the wide and trackless moor,
to ascertain if all was well with his flocks; or, it
might be, to engage in the severer exercise of the
spade, is what farmers of the present day are alto-
gether strangers to. N or were such labours merely
occasional and temporary; for, if we consider the
variety and extent of his writings, commencing
about the time of his second marriage, we shall
find that they must have continued, with but little
intermission, until the é (lay of his death. The


X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOIVIE.




“ Scots \Vorthies” itself is awork of no inconsider-
able labour; for, though the biographical informa-
tion he had procured, and with which his powerful
memory was richly stored, must have greatly fa-
cilitated the task; yet, living remote from cities, and
almost shut out from the abodes of civilized life, the
difficulty of correspondence, and the want of books,
must have tended not a little to render his task
both painful and irksome. Under all these dis-
advantages, however, did Mr Howie, in the seclu-
sion of Lochgoin, bring the work to a successful
termination. The first edition appeared in 1774;
and a second, greatly enlarged, in 1785. Like the
“ Pilgrim’s Progress,” it has been long so extensive-
ly popular with all classes of the community, that it
has secured for itself a position from which it will
never be dislodged, so long as Presbyterianism, and
a religious attachment to the covenanted work of
Reformation, continue to engage the attention of
the natives of Scotland. It has been long a family
piece, both in town and country; but especially
among our Scottish peasantry. In youth we are
rivetted to it, as if by fascination; and in our riper
years we look back upon the impressions then
produced, and wonder whether they may have
been created by the realities of truth.
Besides the “Scots \Vorthies,” Mr Howie pro-
duced a number of other works, which, though not
so generally known, are still not without a tolerable
share of merit. These were, first, a collection of
“Lectures and Sermons” by some of the most
eminent ministers, preached during the stormiest
days of the Persecution,-—a work, the USS. of
which he had not only to transcribe for the Press,
but which, at great labour and expense, he had
even to collect from various quarters. This work
is introduced by a preface of his own composition.
His second work was, “An Alarm to a Secure
Generation;” a small tract characterized by good
taste, and written in a bold and forcible style,
though in a garb that would be considered too
homely for the taste of the present day. The
third production was “Faithful Contendings Dis—
played;” being an account of the suffering rem-
nant of the Church of Scotland, from 1681 till
1691. This was neither more nor less than a
transcription from a record kept by a person of
the name of Michael Shields, clerk to the So-
cieties, to which Mr Howie prefixed a preface, and
added an appendix with notes. His fourth Essay
was “ Faithful \Vitness-bearing Exemplifiedf’ con-
sisting of the following divisions :—1. Useful Cases
of Conscience. 2. A Testimony against Toleration
by the Commission of the General Assembly. 3.
A History of the Indulgence. The fifth was
“ Patronage Anatomized,” a work which, next to

the Scots ‘\Vorthies, must be regarded as superior
to all his other writings. The sixth was “ A Vindi~
cation of the mode of handling the Elements in the
Lord’s Supper before giving thanks',” written at the
time when the controversy took place on this sub—
ject among the Antiburgher Seceders. The seventh
was “ Clarkson’s Plain Reasons for Dissenting,”
with a preface and notes, and an abstract of the
Principles of the Reformed Presbytery, regarding
Civil Government. His eighth,——and the last pro-
duction of his pen,—was, “ APreface to Mr Brown
of \Vamphray’s Looking-glass of the Law and the
Gospel.”
But it was not through the medium of his
writings alone that Mr Howie sought to benefit his
countrymen. He availed himself of the extensive
circle which his writings had formed for him to in~
struct all who had a desire for religious knowledge
To young men, especially, he was particularly at-
tentive. An individual, still alive, lately informed
the writer, that in his youth he made one of a party
who waited upon our biographer for instruction;
and was deeply impressed with Mr Howie’s ex—
tremely judicious method of conveying religious
information to the young. He usually commenced
with some simple or even humorous subject, which
had always the effect of banishing that restraint
from the mind of his auditors which the eclat of
his piety and talent naturally tended to produce.
Having accomplished this, he immediately availed
himself of the opportunity to communicate infor—
mation of the most solid, pious, and edifying
nature. From a choice library, too, of several
hundred volumes, he gave them liberty to select
whatever book they chose. “ On such occasions,”
states our informant, “so eager was he to do
good, that, not content with conversing freely
within doors, he would accompany us miles across
the moor, urging home upon our minds, amidst
all our other assiduities, the importance of atten—
tion to personal piety, the one thing needful.”
He was ever ready to comply with the request of
such as wished for his religious advice or prayers
for themselves or their sick friends. Although
this was frequently attended with much incon~
venience and fatigue—having to travel several miles
before he could reach the abode of any of his
neighbours, either in the parish of Eaglesham or
that of Mearns—yet he never complained. One
night of every week was regularly set apart for
meeting with some of his pious neighbours, for the
purpose of religious fellowship and social prayer; a
practice which we feel happy to say, of late years has
been greatly revived in all parts of Scotland.
Although Mr Howie was thus devoted to books,
and lived “ ar retired from men,” the reader will




BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOIYIE. Xl





form a very false idea, if he suppose him to have
spent the life of a recluse. On the contrary, at all
the surrounding fairs and markets, John Howie
was to be found bustling and bargaining with the
men of the world. He was indeed a marked char-
acter, whether at home, in the public market, or at
' church; and wherever he went, the fame of his
piety and varied acqun‘ements contributed greatly
to facilitate his moral influence. Nor did his per-
sonal appearance belie the impression which his
works produced; for, though but of low stature,
his form was dignified, and erect. Even his gait
seemed to imply an inward consciousness of mental
superiority over those of his loss literary acquain-
tances; nevertheless, he was a paragon of humility;
pride having no seat in his breast. He was re-
markably attentive to neatness in dress, and seldom
walked abroad without his silver-mounted staff.
\Vherever he went he was received with respect;
and his approach to either kirk or market was
made known by the circulating whisper,—“There’s
Lochgoin!”
WVere we to characterize Mr Howie’s personal
piety in a single sentence, we would say, that it
was distinguished at once by its humility and its
fervour; the latter sometimes producing an excite--
ment bordering on enthusiasm; the former, not un-
frequently generating a feeling analogous to de-
spondency. An attentive perusal of his diary evinces
the extreme jealousy with which he was wont to
scrutinize his heart, after secret prayer, and the
deep religious meditation in which he took gre“
delight. N ot only did he peruse the Word of God
with fervent prayer for the teaching of the Holy
Spirit, but marked with distinctive observation its
influence upon his future life; and, when he could
trace an increasing love to his God and Saviour, he
never failed to ascribe the praise to whom alone it
was due. \Ve quote the following brief extract :—
“ IVhen I look back upon my short and despica-
ble life, I find it altogether made up of deficiencies,
faults, and imperfections; my disposition was some-
what soft; my bodily constitution weak or tender,
which soon broke, so that no apparent probability
yet occurs that I shall attain either to an advanced
age, or even to the age of some of my immediate
progenitors; but it is a question whether it is the
greatest difficulty to live or die well; to be united
to Christ; to live unto, and die in Him is the sum-
mary of all; a God reconciled in Christ, a complete
Saviour. Here we are often in the dark, see and
know but in part; but when once admitted into the
higher house we shall see face to face, and know as
we are known. Here the believer sees and lives
by faith; but there by open vision, where all the
graces must give place to love and wonder. The

great volume of God’s creation, word, and provi—
dence, must be folded up, and the heavens depart
as a scroll; and then the believer must read in the
book of God essential properties only. Here they
are freed from the power of sin; but there is an
eternal freedom from the very indwell of it. Here
there is only a deliverance from Satan; but there
shall be a freedom from all his temptations. It is
only there that by grace we shall be raised to per~
fection. Here affliction is only sanctified to us;
but there will be a deliverance from all trouble,
with the sanctified fruits of it for ever. And here
He only supports us from the fears of death; but
there he shall set us beyond the reach of death,
and we shall die no more,—‘ Because I live ye shall
live also.’ There we shall be admitted into the
company of the First-born, that blessed assembly
whose glory it has been to have their garments
washed in the blood of the Lamb, and continually
flourish before Him,——one glance of whose glorious
and beautiful face shall make all sighing and sorrow
for ever to fly away.”
WVe have already said that, from his earliest
years hi1‘ Howie’s constitution was physically weak
and delicate. It was not, however, till the spring
of 1791, that his infirmities began seriously to alarm
his friends. About that time he had a severe at-
tack of rheumatism, which, after traversing almost
every part of his body, finally settled down in his
left knee, and confined him entirely to his apart-
ment, suffering frequently the most gnawing and
excruciating pains. During summer he removed
. .tcoats, for the double benefit of sea-bathing
and a change of air, but without any good effect;
for, although his bodily suffering from rheumatism
somewhat abated, a complication of other disorders
began to show themselves, to the renewed anxiety
and grief of his friends, who now began to look
upon his recovery as almost hopeless. During the
whole of that trying period he exhibited all that
christian resignation and submission to the divine
will, which the consistency of his conduct, during
the whole of his previous life, might have led one
to anticipate. His maladies, however, continuing to
increase, as a last resource he was, in the month
of July, conveyed back to Saltcoats, to try anew
the efficacy of sea-bathing. But the second ex-
periment had no more salutary effects than the
first; and, after remaining two weeks, he returned
to his cottage, about the beginning of August,
with the impress of death visibly stamped upon his
countenance.
In the month of September, a most affecting
circumstance, and one greatly calculated to put
his faith and resignation to the test, occurred in
the family of the dying man. Smallpox had been


xii
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN HOIVIE.


committing ravages in the country round, and
the loathsome disease at length invaded his own
dwelling. Ill able to sustain his own infirmities, he
was doomed to witness his children attacked one by
one, until the whole were confined. A sound con-
stitution, however, warded off the fatal consequen-
ces of the distemper in them all, except his eldest
son, John, who fell a victim to the relentless de-
stroyer, after foin'teen days of severe suffering.
On the morning of the young man’s death, which
was on a Tuesday, Mrs Howie entered her hus~
band’s apartment, in tears, and requested his pres-
ence in the chamber of the dying youth, whose
spirit was just about to take its flight to a holier
region. The old man was now so weak, that he
was for the most part confined to bed; but when
he heard the unexpected tidings, he raised himself
on his elbow, and for a little seemed to doubt its
veracity. Being soon assured, however, that his
wife’s fears were too well founded, he was pre-
vailed upon to dress himself; and, assisted by his
wife, he tottered to the bed of his beloved son.
\Vith grief unutterable, as he gazed upon the young
man’s countenance, he saw that the seal of death
had been surely impressed upon it; and, fearing
that the “iron” might, sooner than expectation,
“enter into his soul,” he lost no time in engag-
ing in deep and fervent prayer. It was a solemn
and affecting sight, to behold the aged man, pale
and emaciated, bending over the deathbed of a
son in the bloom of youth, who had given pro--
mise of a vigorous manhood, cut down and taking
his departure before him, that he might be ready to

welcome him into the land of bliss :—*After prayer,
he began to touch a tender string, and to inquire
into the state of the young man’s soul; if he had
any valid hopes of his eternal wellbeing; and upon
what these hopes were founded. The youth was
too exhausted to articulate; but the significant
motion of his hands, and the darting of an expres-
sive ray from his fast dimming eye, gave pleasing
indication that all was well.
Lochgoin was powerfully affected upon the occa~
sion; for, tuning to a friend who was present, he
remarked, that this was an event of rare occurrence;
a dying father addressing the language of consola-
tion to an expiring son. After having again knelt
by the bedside of the young man, and offered up
a final prayer for the repose of his soul, he was re-
conducted to his own apartment; the young man
having breathed his last. The last effort he made,
as an inhabitant of this world, was on the day of
his son’s funeral. He not only dressed himself, and
conversed with such friends as came to attend the
funeral; but, supported by an individual belonging.
to the family, he accompanied the procession a
short way from the house; when,‘with striking
solemnity, he took leave of the company; adding,
that it would not be long before they would be
= called to return, and perform for himself the same
sad office. And it happened as he had said; for,
in a few days after, upon a Saturday morning
about the end of Autumn, he bade adieu to all
that was terrestrial, leaving behind him a name and
fame that will be long revered by the religious
peasantry of Scotland.




HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION
TO THE
SCOTS WCBTHIES,
EXPLANATORY OF THE GREAT PRINCIPLES FOR \VHICH THE \VORTHIES SUFFERED;
AND SHOlVING THEIR SUBSTANTIAL IDENTITY \VITH THOSE AT PRESENT
CONTENDED FOR IN THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND.

SUCH were the terms in which the present Essay
was announced, eighteen months ago*. The memo-
rable events which have since occurred, have im-
parted to these terms a meaning and a force that
make them independent of any commentary. The
principles contended for by the Scots Worthies of
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are now
seen in the broad light, not of argument but of fact,
to be substantially at one with those which the con-
fessors of the nineteenth century have embodied in
the Free Church of Scotland. Not only has the
title of this Essay been thus amply vindicated; but
the Essay itself may justly be said to have been al-
ready written. It has been written, not with ink,
but with deeds; not in the seclusion of a study, but
in the face of the world; not with the feebleness of
an individual’s testimony, but with the command-
ing power and impressiveness of a church’s and a
nation’s voice. That which had been previously a
local controversy has now assumed the character of
a question for Christendom. The struggles which
the simple and affecting narratives of John Howie
of Lochgoin had embalmed in the memories of the
humble but pious peasantry of Scotland are, to all
human appearance, destined ere long to become
familiar to the councils of senators and to the cabi-
nets of kings. That the headship and sole supre-
macy of the Lord Jesus Christ as King of saints,
and King of nations, and as in both these provin-
ces the only Lord of the conscience, have in this
country been household words for centuries, is due
to the testimonies and the sufferings of the men of
The witness borne and the sacri-
fices made for the same truths in the month of May,
a bygone age.
* The date at which this Essay was fir st announced was shortly
before the disruption of the Church of Scotland, in 1843.

one thousand eight hundred and forty-three, in the
disruption of the ancient Church Establishment of
this kingdom, have given them a prominence, and
lent them an impulse, which bid fair, under the
blessing, and through means of the over-ruling pro-
vidence of God, mightily to accelerate their diffu-
sion and acceptance throughout many other lands.
Thus it is that “_ the memory of the just is blessed,”
and that “though deac ” they continue to speak to
Thus it is that the voices
which, centuries ago, persecution stifled in dungeons
or silenced on the scaffold, awakening, as they have
countless generations.
so signally done in our own times, the response of
a kindred spirit, may yet lead posterity to trace the
public recognition and ultimate prevalence of great
truths of vital moment to all the churches and
kingdoms of the world, to the “Scots Worthies;”—
to men who, amid the rugged wilds of their bleak
but beloved country, were contented, for the sake of
these truths, to “wander in deserts and in moun'
tains, and in dens and in caves of the earth.”
If, however, the late events to which reference has
now been made have served both to illustrate the
true nature of the principles for which the Worthies
suffered, and to establish their identity with those
recently contended for in the Church of Scotland,
they have certainly not rendered the subject of this
Essay less interesting or less instructive than it before. On the contrary, they have invested it with
fresh claims on the attention of all who are concerned
for the honour of Christ, and for the progress and
Nor have they
impaired its right to challenge the earnest and re-
spectful consideration of the enlightened patriot.
prosperity of His spiritual kingdom.
It is a subject which, the more it is investigated,
will the more clearly be seen to have a close and



HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO





inseparable connexion with civil and religious
liberty. And while, therefore, both for the citizen and
for the christian, the subject has materials pregnant
with instruction,-—it cannot but be regarded as
possessing an additional and peculiar attraction to
thoughtful minds, when viewed in connexion with
the whole aspect of the present times. Nearly
twenty years ago, one of the most eloquent of Bri-
tish statesmen foresaw and foretold, that the world
was hastening on towards a conflict of a new and
unprecedented kind. \Vars of ambition, wars for
the conquest of territory, had long had their deso-
lating course. But the “war of opinions” which his
discerning eye descried in the distance, was, in his
judgment, not more certainly drawing near, than it
would prove in the issue fiercer in its character, and
more sweeping in its range than any of the contests
that had preceded it. The momentous changes
which, in quick succession, have since passed on the
political and religious condition of the British em-
pire, and of many of the continental nations, have
strikingly attested the sagacity of Mr Canning’s
anticipations. The war of opinions is already be-
gun; and, multifarious as to superficial observers
these may for a while have seemed, every day is
showing more plainly, that the opinions which are
ultimately to absorb all others and to come out
as the grand combatants, are religious opinions;
opinions for or against the truth of .God. This may
astonish worldly politicians; but the spiritual man
who judgeth all things sees in it only the result for
which the Bible had prepared him. The contest, in
truth, is as old as the days of Cain and Abel, and
will endure till that glorious time when the king-
doms of this world shall have become the kingdoms
of our Lord and of his Christ. There is an enmity
inherent between those who are spiritually allied to
the promised seed of the woman, and those who are
the children of the wicked one. The spirit and
principles by which they are respectively animated
and directed are irreconcilably and eternally op-
posed. Satan, as the strong man armed, dwells in
the one; and when they are unassailed all may be
outwardly tranquil, so far as religious questions are
concerned, because his goods are in peace. Christ
is the adversary stronger than he, and it is when
He comes to bind the strong man, that the fierce
and desperate resistance begins. And this fact it
is which furnishes the only right key to the religious
commotions, either of the past or of the present age.
A period of revival in the Church of Christ is sure
to be a season marked by the bitter hatred and busy
hostility of the unbelieving world. Such a spiritual
awakening is a note of alarm sounded through the
camp of the enemy of souls. It is a call to arms;
it is a warning to stand upon his guard; it is a

threatening of danger to his kingdom; and he is too
vigilant to neglect the admonition. And never, per-
haps, since the days of the Reformation, did Satan’s
empire feel more distinctly beneath it than now, the
heaving-s of the moral earthquake which is destined
in the end to shake it into ruins.
In proceeding to execute the design proposed in
i this Essay, the first thing to be done is, to ascertain
what the principles for which the Scots IVorthies
suffered really were. This point being settled, it
will be necessary next to state and expound the
principles involved in the recent controversy of the
Church of Scotland. The object of the Essay will
have been accomplished, when, thereafter, we shall
have instituted a comparison between the principles
of the one period and those of the other, and esta-
blished their substantial identity.
I. In entering on an inquiry into the principles
of the Scots IVorthies, it is important to bear in
mind that their struggles extended through a
period of one hundred and fifty years. Beginning
with the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in 1528,
they stretched on, with only a few brief intervals of
repose, till the death of James Renwick, in 1688.
In the course of a contest so prolonged, the form
which their principles assumed was not always the
same. At one time it took the shape of a testimony
against errors in doctrine; at another, against errors
in church discipline and government; at a third,
against errors affecting the whole question of the
Church’s constitution and privileges as a spiritual
kingdom. And to those, accordingly, who look
only at the outside of things, it may seem altogether
impossible and utterly preposterous to attempt to
prove anything like an identity between the chang-
ing and countless contests of a century and a half,
and the one brief, continuous, and connected strug-
gle of our own times. But though theirs was a
war of generations, while ours has seemingly been
decided in a single campaign, it will be found 011
a close inspection that we have been fighting, in
both cases, the same battle, and with the same
weapons; and, moreover, it will probably very soon
appear that as it took many conflicts to terminate
the strife before, it is not the one that has taken
place that is destined to end it now. At the com-
mencement of the sixteenth century Europe was lying
prostrate, in ignorance and degradation, under the
universal sway of popish tyranny and superstition.
In the pretended seat of an humble and holy apostle
there sat the Man of Sin and Son of Perdition. The
book of life was shut up and sealed; the minds and
consciences of men were enslaved; the right of
private judgment in matters of religious truth was
peremptorily interdicted, and its exercise punished
as a heinous crime. The nations, brutalized and bent





THE SCOTS WVORTHIES. xv





-___
down beneath a remorseless spiritual despotism, had
ceased to struggle, and were contented “ to wonder
after the beast.” Religion had become a craft
whereby to make merchandise of the souls of men.
Where might an agency be found sufficient to con-
tend with a power that plucked crowns from the
heads of kings, and, by the utterance of a word,
covered whole realms with desolation and mourning?
“Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit,
saith the Lord of Hosts 1” In the neglected library
of the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt there might
then be seen, day after day, a youth with a little
volume in his hand. That youth was Luther-—
that volume was the word of God. He read and,
wondering, learned the glorious truth, that God is
in Christ Jesus reconciling the world unto himself,
not imputing unto men their trespasses; and that
a man is justified without works of the law, and
wholly by faith in the finished righteousness of
Christ. He looked on that little volume and he
saw the light of life ; he looked around him on the
wide domain of the papal power and he beheld
everywhere the darkness of spiritual death. He
came forth with that volume in his hand. It was
the sword of the Spirit, unsheathed by the hand of
the Reformer. From the depths of the Thuringian
forest he sent it gleaming in its own ethereal bright-
ness over the nations. Rome quailed and cowered
before it; the spell of its dominion was broken, and
the freedom of the world was won.
The essence of the Reformation consisted in the
recovery of the word of God. As the only infalli-
ble rule of faith and manners, it became thencefor-
ward the grand umpire in all religious questions;
and it may therefore be fairly described as the
sum of Luther’s work—that, in bringing men back
to the Scriptures of truth, he established the mo-
mentous principle, that God alone is Lord of the
conscience. It was the recognition of this princi-
ple that emancipated the human mind from the
yoke of bondage under which it had groaned for
ages ; and that paved the way for all those victories
over ignorance and error which the church of
Christ has subsequently achieved.
Patrick Hamilton, the earliest of the Scots \Vor-
thies, was the pupil of the great German Reformer.
Attracted to \Vittemberg by the fame of Luther
and Melancthon, he imbibed from their lips those
blessed truths which make men wise unto salvation;
—-he embraced them, not on the authority of these
great men, but solely on the authority of the divine
record in which they were found. ‘Vhat, there-
fore, he may justly be said to have found, while sit-
ting at the feet of these lights of a dark age. was
not the doctrine of salvation by grace—was not the
way of a sinner’s acceptance with God—but rather

the standard by which that, and every other truth
of divine revelation, may be known. In a word,
what he brought with him, on his return to Scot-
land, was the Bible. In it he had discerned the
“lively oracle,” at which it was the right and duty
of every man for himself to hear the Lord’s own
voice in answer to every inquiry, both as to what
man is to believe concerning God, and as to the
duty which God requireth of man. The use made
of this unerring standard might vary with the vary-
ing forms of falsehood and wickedness which it was
needed to expose; but that which the Lutheran
Reformation had effected was to recover the long
neglected and forgotten test, which, like the touch
of Ithuriel’s spear, was thenceforth to detect all
error, and establish all truth regarding the doctrine,
discipline, worship, and government of the church
of God. For several years previous to Hamilton’s
return to his native country, the doctrines of the
Reformation had been gaining currency in Scot-
land. This is sufficiently attested by the fact, that,
in 1525, an act of parliament was passed strictly
prohibiting the importation of the writings of the
continental protestant divines; and forbidding all
disputations even about the “heresies of Luther,
except it be to the confusion thereof, and that by
clerks in the schools ecclesiastic.”e “Every one,”
said the Lord Jesus, “ that doeth evil, hateth the
light; neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds
should be reproved;” and nowhere could these
words have had a more pointed application, than
to the state of things which then existed in this
kingdom. “ Of the doctrine of Christianity almost
nothing remained but the name. Instead of being
directed to offer up their adorations to one God,
the people were taught to divide them among an
innumerable company of inferior divinities. * 9* 9*
The sacrifice of the mass was represented as pro-
curing forgiveness of sins to the living and the dead,
to the infinite disparagement of the sacrifice by
which Jesus Christ expiated sin and procured ever-
lasting redemption; and the consciences of men
were withdrawn from faith in the merits of their
Saviour, to a delusive reliance upon priestly absolu-
tions, papal pardons,andvoluntarypenances. if if "1‘
It is difficult for us to conceive how empty, ridicu-
lous, and wretched, those harangues were which
the monks delivered for sermons. Legendary tales
concerning the founder of some religious order, his
wonderful sanctity, the miracles which he perform-
ed, his combats with the devil, his watchings, fast-
ings, and flagellations; the virtues of holy water,
chrism, crossing, and exorcism; the horrors of pur-
gatory, and the numbers released from it by the
* H etherington’s History of the Church of Scotland, p. 34.



xvi
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



intercession of some powerful saint; these, with
low jests, table-talk, and fireside scandal, formed
the favourite topics of the preachers, and were
served up to the people instead of the pure, salutary,
and sublime doctrines of the Bible.”'*‘ In a word,
darkness covered the land, and gross darkness the
people; and the great business of the abettors of
this monstrous system of superstition and tyranny
was to close up, by fraud or force, every avenue by
which the light of divine truth might have shone
in upon and disclosed its hideous and manifold
abominations. But a time and a set time to favour
Zion had come. The dark ages, which, like a long
night, had brooded over Europe, were about to
have an end; and, as the natural sun, when the hour
of his rising returns, sends even the very first of his
dawning rays, not into one solitary hamlet but over
half a continent at once—it was over a field as wide
that the earliest beams of the Reformation shone.
About the same time that Luther was visited with
the knowledge of the truth in Germany, the same
blessing was vouchsafed to Zuingle in Switzerland,
and to Calvin in France. The Sun of Righteous-
ness had reached the horizon’s verge; and his light,
struggling through the dense clouds in which
popish superstition had wrapped the nations of
Christendom for centuries, was already streaming
from the Mediterranean to the Baltic; and while
the central nations of Europe felt the first quicken-
ing impulse of his returning rays, their illumination
was faintly gilding, at the same hour, the mountain
summits of this distant island of the sea.
Even before he visited the continent, Patrick
Hamilton had become an object of suspicion to the
vigilant guardians of Romanism, by the disposition
he evinced to break through the trammels of the
schoolmen, and by the freedom with which he spoke
out against the prevailing corruptions of the church.
\Vhat some, to us, unknown agency had begun, was
completed by his intercourse with the German Re-
former. Impatient to impart to his beloved country
the light of that divine word which now fully illumi-
nated his own soul, he hastened his return, disregard-
ing all the dangers which he well knew awaited him.
His career was brief, but it was bright and blessed:
he had not yet completed his twenty-fourth year,
when he was committed as a martyr to the flames.
The fire which his testimony kindled, and which
his cruel death served only to fan into a brighter
flame, went on increasing from day to day, until
within a single generation it had chased the thick
darkness utterly away. Hamilton was put to death
in the year 1528. In 1560—that is, within thirty
two years thereafter—the papal jurisdiction was
* M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, fifth edition, pp. 21, 22.

abolished in Scotland, and all those laws rescinded
which had been made in support of the popish
church, or in opposition to the Reformed faith.
This period may be correctly described as in-
cluding within its range the first division-—the van-
guard—of the noble army of the Scots wWorthies.
They struck the first effectual blow in the great
contest for truth and liberty in Scotland; and
though the errors at which they struck were not
the same errors as those with which it fell to the
lot of their successors to contend, they wielded the
same weapon. They fought and triumphed alike
by the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of
God It is of the utmost importance to bear this
fact in mind, as it lies at the very foundation of the
subject of this essay. It is in this fact we find the
true key to the distinguishing principles of the
Scots IVorthies, which are in other words, the dis»
tinguishing principles of the Reformation. The
sufficiency of Scripture as the only rule of faith and
manners,——this was the ground on which all the
Worthies took their stand. It brought every ques-
tion of religion and of morals to the infallible
standard of the word of God. It set conscience
free from the doctrines and commandments of men,
in everything to which the divine word is opposed.
It placed all men on the footing of a direct, indi-
vidual, personal responsibility to Christ who is the
“Head of every man ;” and by the very fact of
doing so, condemned all tyranny and oppression.
And especially it exhibited the church as Christ’s
spiritual kingdom, deriving its existence, its laws,
its privileges from him alone—requiring all things
in it to be done according to his revealed will, and
himself to be acknowledged and obeyed as its only
Head and King.
On the footing of the broad principle thus stated,
the Scots \Vorthies of the period above specified
brought their testimony to bear on those errors
which immediately concerned the way of salvation.
There can be no true church of Christ at all with
out converted souls; it is they who really consti-
tute the house or kingdom of God in this world;
and souls cannot be converted but through the
truth as it is in Jesus. Proceeding, therefore, upon
the plan of first making “the tree good,” they
addressed themselves to the work of teaching sin-
ners how they might become just with God. In
Scotland accordingly, as in Germany, the first stage
of the Reformation was a contest for the grand doc-
trine of justification by faith—the article, as Luther
justly termed it, of a standing or falling church.
How well Patrick Hamilton, the protomartyr oi
the Scottish Reformation, had studied the recover-
ed standard of truth, was amply proved by the
clearness and the fulness of his testimony against



THE SCOTS \VOlt'l‘HIES.
xvii




~—
the errors and corruptions of the church of Rome.
There is scarcely a single article in its complicated
system of imposture and delusion, on which he did
not bring the condemning voice of Scripture point-
edly and powerfully to hear. The charges on
which he was condemned imbody the most conclu-
sive evidence, and form the most satisfactory re-
cord, of the correctness of his views on all the lead-
ing doctrines of the gospel. Luther began his
career in a state of not more than half acquaintance,
either with the errors he had been raised up to de-
nounce, or with the truths it was to be his glori-
ous mission to republish to the world. He groped
his way, step by step, out of the darkness of the
middle ages into the light of the Reformation. He
was already far on in his mighty struggle before he
discovered that his adversary was Antichrist—that
he was fighting, not with the superinduced corrup-
tions of a true church of God, but with the inherent
and radical abominations of the “mystery of ini-
quity.” Patrick Hamilton had the benefit of
Luther’s progress. He entered the field in conse-
quence, on his return from Germany, fully prepared
to take his stand, not only against the existing
errors of the church of Rome, but against that
church itself. From the outset, therefore, of the
Reformation in Scotland it was a root and branch
warfare with popery. On his trial, accordingly,
while it was one part of the accusation against
Hamilton that he had repudiated and condemned
the whole series of those “refuges of lies” which
popery has substituted in place of the justifying
righteousness of Christ~it was another, that he
had pronounced the pope to be the Antichrist of
Scripture.
The light struck by this honoured servant of
God was kept burning by a succession of witnesses,
some more and some less full in their testimony;
but all, with one consent, appealing to the word of
God as the divine standard by which alone all reli-
gious controversies must be tried and determined.
The most prominent of these witnesses, during the
period we are now adverting to, was George \Yish-
art. Like Hamilton’s, his career was brief; but
its effects, under the blessing of God, were so great
that he felt himself in a condition, before the two
years of his singularly powerful and persuasive
preaching were ended, confidently to assure his
friends that the sufferers after him should not need
to be many; that the victory of truth should soon
be won, and the realm of Scotland be “ illuminated
with the light of Christ's gospel as clearly as any
realm ever was since the days of the apostles.” It
is worthy of notice, as illustrating the principles
even of this earliest class of the Scots ‘Vorthies—
and as serving to show their substantial identity

with those of their successors—that, on his trial, in
1546, \Vishart disclaimed the jurisdiction of the
cardinal at whose bar he was arraigned, desiring
“ the \Vord of God to be his judge, and the Tem-
poral Estates.” If his doctrines were erroneous,
let his accusers show it by an appeal to Scripture,
the only infallible rule of faith. If either his doc-
trines or his doings were such as to be worthy of
death, let the civil power, which alone beareth the
sword, so decide. In making this appeal, \Vishart
was laying hold for his support on the main pillars
of religious and civil liberty. He was taking his
stand on what may be fairly described as the cha-
racteristie principles of the Reformation. Popery
had subverted the very foundations of religious
liberty, by putting church authority in the room of
Scripture; and thus bringing conscience, of which
God himself is the only lord, into slavish subjection
to the caprice or tyranny of man. It had trampled
with equal intolerance upon civil freedom, by deny-
ing to the civil magistrate the right of an indepen-
dent judgment rcspecting any party or cause 0V6]
which it thought fit to claim jurisdiction; and thus
leaving to the secular power no other function but
that of blindly carrying into execution the church’s
arbitrary decrees. First taking away the “ key of
knowledge”—the divine guide by which both spiri-
tual and temporal governors are bound respec-
tively to regulate their proceedings—and then arro-
gating for the ecclesiastical jurisdiction a complete
supremacy over the civil, it left no spot in either of
these departments on which freedom could plant
her foot.
To overturn this grinding and debasing despo—
tism two things were indispensable :——first, that the
Bible, the inspired standard of truth and duty,
should be laid open to all; and then, that the right
and obligation both of the church and the state—
looking to that divine standard—each to exercise an
independent judgment as to the limits of its own
province, and as to the matters falling within its
jurisdiction, should be distinctly recognised. In
this way both parties are brought into immediate
contact with the will of Him to whom they are
severally responsible; and, in proportion as that
will is understood and owned will men enjoy true
liberty, whether as members of the church of
Christ, or as members of the commonwealth.
It is highly interesting, therefore, as has been
already remarked, to meet, even at the very dawn
of the Scottish Reformation, with the explicit as-
sertion of those very principles, by the subsequent
application of which, and after many painful and
protracted struggles, the triumph of truth over error,
and of right over might, was at length achieved.
C As \Vishart foresaw and foretold. the attempt to



xvi'u'
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



exclude, by the strong arm of persecution, the light
of the gospel from the people of Scotland, however
resolutely and remorselessly made, soon proved to be
vain. lVithin twelve years after his death, the con-
test, in its first form, came to an end. \Valter Mill,
formerly a Romish priest, who was burnt in 1558,
was the last of these early sufferers. His extreme
age—for he was upwards of fourscore years—could
not protect him from the rage of his enemies. The
decaying superstition—weaker, but not less cruel
than heretofore—employed its last efforts 1n mur-
dering this feeble old man—feeble in body, but
strong in faith. His dying testimony was this :—
“ The cause why I suffer this day is not for any
crime laid to my charge, though I acknowledge
myself a miserable sinner before God; but only in
defence of the truths of Jesus Christ, set forth in
the Old and New Testaments. I praise God that
he hath called me among the rest of ‘His servants
to seal His truth with my life; and, as I have re-
ceived it of Him, so I willingly offer it up for His
glory.” The death of this venerable martyr filled
the whole country with indignation, stirred up the
friends of the truth to redoubled exertion, and has-
tened the introduction into Scotland of an entirely
new order of things.
For a time, indeed, the aspect of affairs appeared
to be more alarming than ever to the adherents of
the Reformation. The queen regent of Scotland
had entered into a secret treaty with the Romish
clergy, by which they pledged themselves to sup-
ply money to enable her to maintain a sufficient
force to put down the Reformers by the strong
hand of power. In following this course she was
but doing her part to carry into execution the deep-
laid conspiracy of her bigoted brothers, the princes
of the house of Lorraine, whose ruthless purpose
was to extinguish the fires of the Reformation in a
sea of blood. In prosecution of her nefarious de-
sign, she caused four of the leading protestant
preachers to be summoned before the criminal
court, for presuming to teach what, by a previous
proclamation, she had denounced as heresy. This
violent proceeding brought on the crisis at once.
The adherents of the Reformation, now a numerous
and rapidly increasing body, saw clearly that noth--
ing but the most prompt and vigorous measures
could save them fi'om destruction. Under the able
and influential leaders who guided their counsels,
the friends of protestant truth were summoned
together, and the queen, at length found herself
embarked in a contest, not with a. handful of
preachers, but with half her kingdom. An inci-
dent which occurred at this period may serve to
illustrate the true nature of the struggle that was
now going on. The town of Perth having profess—

ed its attachment to the doctrines of the Reformers.
the queen straightway sent for lord Ruthven, the
provost, and ordered him to suppress these inno-
vations. “I can make their persons and their
goods subject to your liiajesty,” he instantly re-
plied, “ but I have no power over their minds and
consciences.” The Bible was just teaching her
subjects a lesson which the queen, blinded by
arrogance and still more by bigotry, was resolved
not to learn. Both parties were now fairly aroused.
The queen, confiding in the French troops sent to her
aid, threatened to carry her point by fire and sword.
On the other hand, the lords of the congregation,
as the secular leaders of the adherents of the Re-
formation were termed, brought their dependents
and followers into the field. At this critical mo-
ment, when the cause of truth and liberty was
trembling in the balance, the ranks of the Reform-
ers received an accession worth far more than ten
thousand armed men. In the month of May, 1559,
while the provincial council of the Romish clergy
were assembled in the Greyfiiars’ monastery at
Edinburgh, in earnest consultation on the state of
ecclesiastical affairs, one of their number suddenly
rushed into the chamber exclaiming, “John Knox
is come 1” No fact could be more decisive as to the
influence this remarkable man already possessed, and
as to the estimate which even his enemies had thus
early formed of his talents and character, than the
consternation into which they were thrown by the
simple announcement of his arrival in Scotland. A
shell thrown into a crowd could not create greater
confusion and terror. The council broke up on
the instant, as if incapable of further deliberation,—
and, despatching with all haste a messenger to the
queen, to communicate the unwelcome news, they
themselves immediately dispersed.
Knox had embraced the views of the Reformers
as early as 1542. It was subsequently, however, first
through the instrumentality of Thomas ‘Villiams,
a converted Dominican monk, and afterwards
through that of the martyr \Vishart, that he re-
ceived clear and saving views of evangelical truth.
In the castle of St Andrews he began his public
ministry, as a Reformed preacher, in the year 1547.
His first discourse, preached from the 24th and 25th
verses of the seventh chapter of Daniel, proclaimed
open war upon the church of Rome as the Anti-
christ of Scripture. “ Others hewed the branches of
popery,” it was observed by those who heard him,
“but he strikes at the root to destroy the whole.”
On the surrender of the castle, Knox shared the
fate of the garrison and was carried to France,
where, in violation of the terms on which they
capitulated, they were detained prisoners of war.
Along with a few others the Reformer was confined




THE SCOTS IVORTHIES.
xix



on board the galleys, and treated with the utmost
rigour and cruelty. For nineteen months he endur-
ed these bonds as “the prisoner of the Lord,” who
was thereby training him for the arduous and glo-
rious work in which he was destined to be employed.
And though his “outward man” decayed greatly,
being wasted almost to a shadow under the hard-
ships and privations to which he was incessantly
subjected, his work on Prayer, chiefly fi'amed out of
the materials suggested by his own experience
during that season of sore trial, sufficiently shows
that his “inward man” had been renewed from
At length, however, the period of de-
liverance arrived. Through what agency he was
set free is not certainly known. It took place
early in the year 1549, and immediately thereafter
he returned to England, where he powerfully aided
the cause of the Reformation. In the beginning
of 1554, the state of affairs in that kingdom, under
the sway of the “bloody Mary,” was such as to in-
duce him to yield to the earnest entreaties of his
friends, by withdrawing from a country where his
life was in danger every hour. The two succeed-
ing years he spent partly at Geneva and partly at
Frankfort, and to the discussions in which he was
engaged at the latter of these places it will be
necessary afterwards to recur, as bearing a very
close resemblance to those which in the present day
are threatening, in England at least, to assume a
character of a truly alarming kind, and as consti-
tuting one of the many links which are now blend-
ing the struggles of the Scottish IVorthies into so
marvellous an identity with the controversies of our
Own eventful times. In the autumn of 1555, Knox
returned to Scotland; and, though his stay on this
occasion was brief—extending to only about twelve
months—it was signalized by events which bore the
marked impress of his energetic mind, and which
powerfully conduced to mature and accelerate the
work of the Reformation. Of these, not the least
important was, the detaching of the adherents of
that cause from the outward communion of the
church of Rome. Up till that time they had still
continued to attend public worship, even when
mass was celebrated, in the churches of the popish
establishment. It was by the earnest remonstrances
of Knox that this unworthy compromise between
truth and error was finally abandoned, and that the
Friends of the uncorrupted gospel were formed into
a distinct church. Another, though seemingly a
much smaller incident, was the influence he then
exerted upon the minds of certain eminent indi-
VIClUZLIS—tlll influence which told powerfully not on
them only but on their country. Among those
who attended his ministry during his residence at
Calder. the seat of Sir James Sandilands, were
day to day.
ithree youths who received impressions from his
lips which they carried to the grave. One of these,
lord Lorn, became shortly thereafter, by his fa-
ther’s death, earl of Argyle. The other two, lord
Erskine and lord James Murray, both lived to be
regents of Scotland. The distinguished part which
all of them, and especially the last named of the
three, subsequently performed in public affairs is
abundantly well-known. In the midst of these in-
valuable services which he was every day rendering
to his country, he was summoned again to Geneva,
where he resided and laboured till 1559, when he
returned finally to Scotland; arriving, as has been
already noticed, at the most critical moment in the
history of the Scottish Reformation.
It has been already stated that the two opposing
parties were now in open conflict. The queen
regent, bent on the destruction of a cause which
threatened to be alike fatal to arbitrary power and
to popish ascendancy, strove incessantly, now to
circumvent the Reformers by the arts of her subtle
diplomacy, now to exterminate them by force of
arms. For twelve months the country was involved
in all the confusion and disorder incident to such a
state of things. During this eventful period, Knox
was the very life and soul of the protestant cause.
His intrepidity imboldened the timid; his confidence
encouraged-the desponding; his wisdom restrained
the rash and precipitate; his untiring energy kept
every one at his post—while the singleness of heart
with which he prosecuted the one grand design of
securing for his country deliverance from Romish
tyranny and superstition, and the possession of the
pure evangel of Jesus Christ—this it mainly was
that preserved to the contest its thoroughly religi-
ous character, and protected it from the seculariz-
ing influence of mere earthly politics. Political
questions, it is true, were necessarily involved in the
struggle; for, the resistance which was made to the
queen regent’s authority could be justified only by
the application of those ultimate principles which
lie at the basis of civil society, and which must be
held to define the limits, and regulate the exercise
of lawful power. It was on a large view of these
principles, accordingly, that the queen’s commis-
sion, which she had received fi*om parliament, was
suspended by a convention of estates—the only
substitute for the legislature which could be pro—
cured when a free parliament could not possibly be
assembled. On these historical details, however,
it is not the business of this essay to enlarge. In
the discussions to which these grave and difficult
questions gave rise, no doubt Knox was called to
take and did take a part. His opinion and that
of \Villock, another of the Reformed ministers,

were asked and given. “And it is not easv," as


xx HISTORICAL IN’ ‘RODUCTION TO



PH
M‘Crie observes, “ to see how they could have been
excused in refusing to deliver their opinion, when
required by those who had submitted to their
ministry, upon a measure which involved a case of
conscience as well as a question of law and political
right.” And, without entering further into the
subject here, it may well be said regarding the
principles on which their view of the case submitted
to them was founded, and said in the words and on
the high authority of the same distinguished writer,
that “ if ever the time come when these principles
shall be generally abjured or forgotten, the extinc-
tion of the boasted liberty of Britain will not be
far off.”
On the side of the queen regent the French
troops alone enabled her to protract the war. The
country was almost entirely against her. Hers
therefore was an attempt by foreign force to tram-
ple on the liberties and the religion of the people.
And, accordingly, no sooner were these auxiliaries
removed from Scotland, than immediately the
whole edifice of popery, which they had been em-
ployed to uphold, fell to the ground.
WVith the exception, indeed, of those places that
were held or overawed by the queen, and the
French troops, the whole country had already
abandoned popery. So completely had the people
broken loose from its degrading yoke that the
priests themselves, finding almost none to accept
of their ministrations, had, for the most part,
ceased of their own accord to perform the rites of
their oflice. \Vherever men could be found quali-
fied to conduct the public services of religion, ac-
cording to the Reformed faith, they were set up
without opposition. The death of the queen regent,
which took place in the month of June, 1560, and
the withdrawal of the French troops within a few
weeks thereafter, in terms of the treaty which
France found it expedient to conclude with
England, on finding that country determined to
interfere in good earnest in support of the pro-
testant cause in Scotland, these events removed
the only remaining hinderance to the entire over-
throw of the ancient superstition. Things were
now left to take their proper and natural course;
and the cause of the Reformation, no longer
obstructed by a foreign power, like a mighty river
escaping from some rocky barrier which had inter-
rupted its progress, flowed on with an accelerated
current, sweeping away every lesser obstacle before
it. The treaty, above noticed, did not pretend
to interfere with the subject of religion. This
was a peculiarly happy circumstance, and very
remarkably in keeping with the whole history
and character of the Scottish Reformation. Events
from the beginning had been so ordered as to leave

the truth to develop itself, and to mould the
religious institutions of the country according to
the principles of Scripture. In England it was al-
together otherwise. There the sovereign had
taken the Reformation into his own hands; and by
his imperious will its whole movements were con-
trolled. The image and superscription, accordingly,
which it received, was not so much that of Christ as
of Cesar. Instead of leaving its divine impress up-
on the world, the church of England was made to
take the world’s earthly impress upon itself a fact
which not only throughout the long struggles of
the Scots \Vorthies, but also in the more recent
contests of the present day, has told most power-
fully against the rights and liberties of the church
of Scotland.
Agreeably to one of the leading provisions of the
treaty above mentioned, a free parliament was con-
vened. Never, perhaps, had the representatives of
any country a more momentous duty to discharge
than that which now devolved upon the estates of
Scotland. Of the civil grievances they were called
to redress, important though they were, it is not
our business to speak. It is only in so far as their
deliberations bore upon the great cause of religion
that they fall within the province of this essay.
This vital subject was brought under their notice
by a petition subscribed by a large number of the
professors of the Reformed faith. This petition,
and the measures which arose out of it, bring out
very clearly the views which the W'orthies of that
period held as to the civil magistrate’s duty in regard
to religion. There were three things which the
petitioners sought at the hands of parliament. First,
That the national sanction should be withdrawn
from popery, as being a system of doctrine corrupt,
idolatrous, and condemned by the word of God.
Second, That order should be taken for the restora-
tion of the pure doctrine and discipline of the
church of Christ; and, Third, That the revenues
which had been employed in upholding the errors
and corruptions of the church of Rome should be
alienated fi‘0111 that institution, and appropriated to
the sustentation of a pure gospel ministry, the
promotion of learning, and the support of ‘the poor.
It is not so much the business of this essay to
defend the opinions of the \Vorthies, as to show
what they really were. To enter therefore upon
the general argument as to the place which civil
rulers are called, on grounds of Scripture and right
reason, to occupy in reference to religion, would be
not only to enlarge this essay far beyond the limits
within which it must be confined, but to change, to
some extent, the nature and design of the essay
itself. The petition above described makes it sulli-
cientlv manifest that the Scottish ieformers, like

THE SCOTS
\VORTHIES. XXi





those both of England and of the continent, were
of one mind as to the right and duty of civil rulers
to concern themselves officially about the welfare
of religion, and of the church of Christ. What they
desired was not simply that the estates of parlia-
ment should cease to sanction the corrupt church '
of Rome; but that they should lend national coun-
tenance and aid to the true church of Christ.
At the same time, they had then no immediate
call to discuss either the precise nature, or the exact
limits, of the civil magistrate’s duty in relation to
<acred things. And this is the more necessary to be
kept in mind, because loose or incidental expres-
sions on this subject, occurring occasionally in the
documents of that period, have, in our own times,
been industriously perverted to support opinions
altogether contrary to those which they actually
held. As has been already remarked in an earlier
portion of this essay, the first grand work of the
Reformers in Scotland, and everywhere else, was
to establish and promulgate the truth concerning
the way of salvation. And, accordingly, on look-
ing into the Confession of Faith which the Reformed
ministers, at the request of parliament, prepared,
we find it to be remarkably clear and full on all the
great doctrines which bear upon the subject of a
sinner’s acceptance with God; while on the subject
of the duty of civil rulers towards religion and the
church, it contains nothing at all beyond the mere
aflirmation of the general principle, that “not only
are they appointed for civil policy; but also for
maintenance of the true religion, and for suppres-
sing of idolatry and superstition whatsoever.”
But, at the same time, while the burden of that
testimony which the Confession, laid before the
estates of parliament in 1560, contains, has respect
to the great articles of the Christian faith, it is not
less remarkable for the fulness and precision with
which it lays down what we have elsewhere char-
acterized as the distinguishing principle of the Re-
formation; viz., the sufliciency of Scripture as the
only rule of faith and manners. In the explicit
assertion of this fundamental principle, they had
provided and made ready for perpetual use, a
weapon wherewith successfully to contend with
every form of religious error with every invasion
of the liberties, or corruption of the doctrines and
discipline of the church of Christ. “ As we be-
lieve,” says the Confession, “the Scriptures of God
sufficient to instruct and make the man of God

perfect, so do we affirm and avow the authority of
the same to be of God, and neither to depend on ‘
\Ve affirm, therefore, that such
as allege the Scriptures to have no authority but
men nor angels.
that which is received from the Kirk. to be blasphe-
mous against God, and injurious to the true Kirk,



which always heareth and obeyeth the voice of her
own Spouse and Pastor, but taketh not upon her
to be mistress over the same.” In these pregnant
and weighty sentences is the germ of the whole
controversy which the \Vorthies maintained, both
with the corruptions of the church of Rome, and
with the Erastian eneroachments of the civil power.
And how fully they understood the principle there-
in asserted, and 110w fearlessly they were prepared
to carry it throughout the whole range of its wide
application, one other quotation may sutlice to show.
In the section upon “ the notes by which the true
Kirk is discerned from the false, and who shall be
judge of the doctrine” this striking passage occurs,
“when controversy then happeneth for the right
understanding of any place or sentence of Scrip-
ture, or the reformation of any abuse within the
Kirk of God, we ought not so much to look what
men before us have said or done, as unto that which
the Holy Ghost uniformly speaketh within the
body of the Scriptures, and unto that which Jesus
Christ himself did, and commanded to be done.
For this is a thing universally granted, that the
Spirit of God, which is the spirit of unity, is in no-
thing contrarious to himself. If, then, the interpre—
tation, determination, or sentence of any doctors,
kirk, or council, repugn to the plain word of God,
written in any other place of Scripture, it is a thing
most certain that theirs is not the true understand~
ing and meaning of the Holy Ghost, supposing that
councils, realms, and nations, have approved and
received the same.” A
The Confession of Faith, from which these ex-
tracts are taken, was drawn up, as has been already
remarked, at the request of the Estates of Parlia-
ment. That body did not assume to dictate a con-
fession for the church; nor, on the other, did the
Reformed church claim any right to force its con-
fession upon the legislature. ‘As serving to illus-
trate the views regarding the respective provinces
and duties of church and state held by the Re-
formers of that age, the fact now noticed deserves
particular attention. The principle on which they
acted was this, that the church and state are mutu-
ally independent, but both alike responsible to God:
that each accordingly is entitled and bound to form
its own judgment as to what the divine will is, and
as to what it requires. Accordingly when the Re-
formers made their approach to parliament on the
subject of religion, it was in the capacity of men
"‘ professing the Lord Jesus within the realm.'1
As representing the interests of the true church
of Christ in Scotland, they accounted it their duty
and their privilege to admonish parliament of the
sin and danger of continuing any longer the na-
tional sanction to the errors and corruj'itions of


xxii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO


the church of Rome. But while they singled out
and condemned the leading heresies and crimes
with which that church was chargeable, they did
not pretend to force their convictions upon the
legislature; they undertook to prove whatever
they had affirmed by an appeal to the Scriptures
of truth. The legislature, on the other hand, while
it claimed and exercised the right of deciding for
itself on the important questions that were thus
submitted for its consideration, carefully abstained
from intruding into the province of the church.
Parliament called upon the Reformed ministers to
prepare and lay before it a summary of doctrine in
accordance with the word of God. This was meet—
ing the first part of the demand which the memorial
of the Reformers contained. Such a summary being
promptly produced, it was carefully and deliberately
examined by the legislature—the ministers as re-
presenting the church being present to explain and
to defend it. And being thus satisfied of its agree-
ment with Scripture, it was solemnly ratified and
approved. This important event, which took place
on the 17th of August, 1560, was followed up with-
in a week thereafter by the abolition of the papal
jurisdiction, the prohibition of the mass, and the
rescinding of all laws against the protestant faith,
and in favour of the church of Rome. These seve-
ral acts of the estates of parliament were without
delay transmitted by commissioners to Paris to be
laid before queen Mary and her husband, the king
of France, then the sovereigns of Scotland. And
the observation which in his History of the Refor-
mation Knox makes on this circumstance, brings
out very clearly the views above expressed. “ All
that we did,” says he, “was rather to show our
dutiful obedience than to beg of them any strength
to our religion, which from God has full power and
needeth not the sufli'age of man, but in so far as
man has need to believe it, if that ever he shall
have participation of the life everlasting.”ie
With the ratification of the Confession, and the
consequent national renunciation of popery, the
first struggle of the Scots Vvorthies may be said to
have been successfully terminated. The Bible, the
recovered standard of truth, had been brought to bear
upon the assertion and vindication of those radical
doctrines which immediately concern the salvation
of the soul. It is the knowledge and belief of these
doctrines that brings a church into existence. But
the question subsequently and necessarily arises,
how is this church to be governed? By what laws;
by what officers; under what authority? In point
of fact, this was precisely the question that did arise
at the period we are now considering. When the
“ Hist. of the Ref. M‘Gavin’s Ed. n. 222.

Reformers made their appeal to parliament, it was
no half measure they proposed—no partial or limit-
ed view of the grand subject they had in hand,
which they presented to the legislatm'e of their
country. Evangelical doctrine they put first in
order, as lying at the basis of all true religious rc-
formation. And, it has been already observed that,
in calling on the Reformed ministers to prepare a
scriptural summary of doctrine, and in afterwards
ratifying and approving it, parliament met the first
part of the demand which the memorial of the Re-
formers contained. But that memorial set forth
also the necessity of provision being made for the
restoration of a pure and scriptural form of church
discipline. The disposition to shrink fi'om enter--
ing on this branch of the subject, the positive dis-
like of it which the parliament so unequivocally
evinced, was sufficiently ominous. The simple re-
cognition of evangelical truth was one thing—the
recognition of the right on the part of the church
to enforce its obligations on scriptural principles,
and with scriptural fidelity, was another. The
estates of the Scottish parliament consented to the
one, after a struggle of thirty-two years—beginning
with the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in 1528,
and ending with the national movement which, in
1560, overthrew the authority of the queen Regent,
and along with it, the ascendancy, in Scotland, of
the church of Rome. It was not till after a strug-
gle of exactly the same duration, and of all but
equal severity, that king James consented to the
other. As the contest throughout the whole of
the first period had been substantially for doctrine;
so throughout the whole of the second period, that
is, from 1560 to 1592, it was substantially a con-
test for the church’s policy or discipline. Atten-
tion to this fact is important, not only as it is one
that throws much light on the real nature of the
principles for which the Scots ‘Vorthies were called
to witness and to suffer, but which also illustrates
the unity of the struggle in which they were engag—
ed. That which commenced in 1560 was only a
more advanced stage of the controversy begun by
Patrick Hamilton thirty years before. The con-
test for doctrine came first, because it is doctrine
that makes a church. But a church being brought
into existence—in other words, a number of persons
being brought publicly to profess their faith in the
Lord Jesus Christ—the question must immediately,
and of necessity, arise : How is this spiritual society
to be governed? The church is like a portion of
territory rescued from the world; and, unless it be
hedged round with the fences of its own peculiar
discipline, the world will soon so overlay it with its
corruptions that the line of demarcation between
them will entirely disappear. \Vhen the Lord



THE SCOTS
\VORTHIES. Xxiii


brought his vine out of Egypt, he thought it not
enough to plant it carefully in the new vineyard of
J udea, and to dig a wine-press to receive its fruits;
He also raised a fence about it, and He built a tower.
“ As no commonwealth,” said the Reformers, “ can
flourish or long endure without good laws and
sharp execution of the same, so neither can the
kirk of God be brought to purity, neither yet be
retained in the same without the order of ecclesias-
tical discipline.”*
It might perhaps be thought strange that a truth
so obvious should not at once have secured the con-
sent of all; and yet history tells us that the aversion
to the church’s policy was even stronger than the
aversion to her doctrine. The events of our own
time painfully assure us that it continues umbated
to the present hour. Nor ought this to surprise
any spiritual mind. The church’s doctrine may
not excite much of the world’s enmity, if the church
will only be contented to hold it and to use it on
the world’s terms. But the instant the church
claims to be recognised as a kingdom not of this
world; as a divine institution having laws, ordi-
nances, and a government of her own; and in this
high character proceeds, knowing no man after the
flesh, to execute the will of her only Lord—then it
is that the depths of the world’s enmity are stirred.
No sooner accordingly did the Reformers address
themselves to the work of preparing a scriptural
system of church discipline, than they found them-
selves embarking on a new sea of difficulties and
perils. Although there can be no doubt that a
goodly number of the lords of the congregation
were men of sincere piety, who loved the truth for
its own sake; it is not less certain that not a few of
those who sided with the Reformers in what we
have called the first branch of their great contest,
were influenced by motives of a very questionable
kind. In that earlier stage of the struggle there
were various considerations that might enlist men
in the cause of the Reformation, altogether apart
from the love of evangelical truth. The haughty
pretensions, the oppressive exactions, the intolera-
ble tyranny of the church of Rome, could not fail
to arouse a spirit of impatience, and to beget a
deep desire for deliverance from so galling a yoke.
Moreover, in the breaking up of an institution
which had absorbed a great part of the wealth and
property of the kingdom, there was to selfish minds
a most inviting prospect of the richest spoils. That
such a movement as that of the Reformation should
have swept along with it a multitude of individuals
who looked to no higher objects than these, was
nothing more than what every one acquainted with

* First Book of Discipline, ch. ix.
human nature would have been led to anticipate.
Till the year 1560 nothing had occurred to dis-
tinguish and detach the merely secular from the
spiritual adherents of the Reformation. The rati-
fication of the reformed Confession, and the aboli~
tion of the papal jurisdiction, were measures in
which a worldly politician could readily concur.
They cleared the way for an attack on the revenues
of popery; and accordingly, when these steps were
taken by the estates of parliament, only two or
three individuals were found to lift their voice
against the decision. This unanimity, however, was
at an end so soon as the proposal was made, in the
room of the abolished ‘superstition, to recognise
the jurisdiction, liberties, and privileges of a true
church of Christ. In the discourses which, during
the sitting of parliament, Knox delivered from the
Prophecies of ‘Haggai, the Reformer expatiated on
this subject with great fulness and power; and the
scofiing commentary which his bold and earnest
admonitions drew forth from Maitland of Lething-
ton, was sufficiently ominous of the spirit in which
too many of his hearers were disposed to receive
them. “\Ve may now forget ourselves,” said he,
“and bear the barrow to build the house of God.”
And this certainly he and many others had no
mind to do. Parliament broke up without enter-
ing on the subject of the church’s policy at all.
They shrunk from it with the most resolute aver-
sion. And while they, in thus refusing even to
entertain the question, were, many of them at least,
only giving effect to the sordid views and feelings
of their own minds, the Most High was overruling
their selfish hostility so as to make it conducc to
the furtherance of his own cause. Had they pro-
ceeded to handle the question of church discipline
under the influence of such notions of it as were
then prevalent in the Scottish legislature, the re-
sult could hardly have been other than disastrous
to the interests of truth and righteousness. As the
church had been left to develop and mature her
views of doctrine in a thirty years’ struggle with
popery, before ever she was called to seek the rati-
fication of her confession at the hands of the civil
power; so was she destined, in the wise and won-
derful providence of God, to be trained by a similar
process to those views of discipline that were ulti-
mately to command the homage of the nation. It
were to advance too far into the province of the
historian were we to go minutely into a statement
of the successive steps by which the contest for the
church’s policy proceeded; our narrative must ne-
cessarilybe confined to those outstanding events in
the progress of the struggle, which mark its lcadin g
vepochs. As the Reformers were unwearied in
I. , . . . .
l presslng the subject on the attention of the civil


xxiv
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO





“ \Vhen the Ministers did putt their hands to work,
the Assemblie of the Kirk laid some heads of the
Policie of the Kirk upon everie man who was
thought meetest for the same: and after they had
given in their travells, to be considered by the
Brethren, they were either approven in that whilk
they had done, or els their inlaiks were supplied, and
doubtes opened up to them that they might sett
doune the head appointed to them more perfitelie,
whilk by great pains, much reading, prayer, and
meditation, earnestly in calling the name of God in
end was finished, and by the allowance and appro~
bation of the whole General Assemblie: after that
some articles whilk were thought too long were
abridged. The whole Policie of the Kirk was put
in writ in a book and presented to the nobilitie and
Great Council of this realme in the end of the same
yearef’f -
In this book the platform of presbyterian gov~
ernment was laid down, and directions given con-
cerning the calling of those that were to hold office
and bear rule in the church. On this latter point
the principle is unequivocally recognised that “ it
appertaineth to the people and to every several
congregation to elect their own ministers ;”T while,
in regard to the admission of ministers to their
sacred oflice, it is ordained that in addition “to the
consent of the people and church whereto they
shall be appointed,” they must also have “ the
approbation of the learned ministers appointed for
their examination.” The permanent oflicebearers
of the church were declared to be ministers or
pastors, doctors or teachers, ruling elders and
deacons. Rules were prescribed for the prompt
and vigorous exercise of church discipline to which,
with scriptural fidelity this Book of Policy affirmed
that, “all the estates within the realm must be
subject, as well the rulers as they that are ruled,
yea, and the preachers themselves as well as the
poorest within the kl1‘l{.”I A plan was also sketched
for the future appropriation of the ecclesiastical
revenues. The objects to which it was proposed
that these should be devoted were the sustentation
of the ministry, the maintenance of a system of
national education, and the relief of the poor. The
views on these several points, and especially on the.
great and all important question of education, are
distinguished by the truest wisdom and by the most
enlightened benevolence; of themselves they con-
stitute a noble testimony to the Christian patriot-
ism and enlarged philanthropy of the Scottish
Reformers. It is very worthy of remark that while
this standard of policy is so full and clear on the
rulers, the privy council, not long after the dissolu-
tion of the parliament, gave a commission to Knox
and to four other ministers, who had been his asso--
ciates in preparing the Confession of Faith, to draw
up a system of ecclesiastical government. ‘And as
the word of God had been the one grand standard
according to which the church had reformed her
doctrine, so it was exclusively by the same divine
model they proceeded to adjust her policy. The
sufficiency of Scripture as the only rule of faith and
manners, and the right and duty of regulating the
church’s affairs in accordance with the will of
Christ as revealed in his holy word—these sacred
principles were applied with the same uncompro-
mising fidelity to the question of church discipline
as already they had been to the question of church
doctrine. IVe are not for a moment to suppose
that, because the Reformers urged this latter sub-
ject, as they had urged the former, on the attention
of the civil authorities of the kingdom, they meant
in so doing to recognise a right or competency in
these civil authorities to frame its policy for the
church. They acted in this matter on the broad
general ground of its being the duty of civil rulers
both to profess and to countenance the true religion
——to recognise and support the church of Christ.
But, while, for the discharge of this duty it was indis-
pensable that the civil magistrate should be satisfied
that both the doctrine and discipline of the church
were in accordance with the word of God, and that
in satisfyin g himself on this point he should ex ercise
a free and independent judgment, the Reformers
would have repudiated with abhorrence the idea of
his being entitled to force his views upon the church.
Nothing, indeed, can be more explicit on this sub—
ject than the language employed in the Introduc—
tion to the Book of Policy by the Reformers them-
selves. “ F or,” said they, addressing the privy
council, “ as we will not bind your wisdom to our
judgments farther than we are able to prove by
God’s plain Scriptures, so must we most humbly
crave of you, even as ye will answer in God’s
presence (before whom both ye and we must
appear to render account of all our facts), that ye
repudiate nothing for pleasure and affection of men,
which ye be not. able to improve by God’s written
and revealed word.” The system of ecclesiastical
discipline and government, which they thus sought
to have ratified, was prepared under the church’s
immediate direction, and was formally adopted and
sanctioned by the General Assembly before it was
brought under the notice of the civil government.
The following passage from “ Row’s History of
the Kirk of Scotland,” recently published by the
\Vodrow Society, relates very minutely how this in-
teresting and important work was carried through. ;
* Row’s History, p. 16.
+ First Book of Discipline, Ch. IV., sect. '1.
1‘ First Book of Discipline, Ch. IX.




THE SC CTS ‘WORTHIES.
XXV






great functions and obligations of a church of
Christ, it contains little or nothing on the subject
of the church’s relation to the civil power. The
controversy on that subject had not then arisen;
and it would seem, accordingly, to have been taken
for granted, by the framers of the Book of Disci-
pline and by the General Assembly in adopting it,
that the state would be as ready as the church to
be guided in all such matters implicitly by the word
of God; and that, recognising in Scripture the
church’s true character as the kingdom of the Lord
Jesus Christ, civil rulers would freely concede to it
the free and unfettered exercise and enjoyment of
all those rights and privileges its divine Head had
bestowed.
this hope.
Events soon showed 110w fallacious was
The privy council refused to sanction
the Book of Policy; for though many of the mem-
bers approved of it, others warmly resisted it.
“ This opposition,” says Dr M‘Crie, “ did not arise
from any difference of sentiment between them and
the ministers respecting ecclesiastical government,
but partly from aversion to the strict discipline
which it appointed to be exercised against vice, and
partly from reluctance to comply with its requisi-
tion for the appropriation of the revenues of the
popish church to the support of the new religious
and literary establishments”? \Ve have already
remarked that till 1560 nothing had occurred to
dissever the merely secular from the truly sincere
and religious adherents of the Reformation. This,
however, was at once effected by the Book of Dis-
cipline, and hence the origin of the new struggle
which we have described as constituting the second
branch of the one grand contest for the supremacy
of divine truth. In contending for evangelical doc-
trine the innnediate adversary of the Reformers
was the church of Rome. In contending for primi-
tive and apostolic discipline their chief conflict was
with the civil rulers of the kingdom. In the one
case they fought with antichrist: in the other with
the ungodly spirit of the world. Calvin had before
this encountered a similar opposition in enforcing
church discipline at Geneva; and the observation
dropped by )I‘Crie in a foot note when adverting
to his well-known case, is entirely in harmony with
the view we have taken of the real nature of the
contest which the Reformers had to maintain from
and after the period at which we have now arrived.
"' The dispute between him (Calvin) and his oppo-
nents turned on this question,-—Are ministers obliged
to administer the sacraments to those whom they
judge unworthy; or, (which amounts to the same
thing) are the decisions of the church court in such
matters to be reviewed and reversed by the civil
* M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, Vol. II , p. .5.

court? '* 5* And this will be found to have
been the true state of the question in Scotland, in
the greater part of the discussions between the court
and the church after the establishment of the Re-
ibrmation.”e '
lVhat tended greatly to strengthen and encour-
age those who were opposed to the ratification or
the Book of Policy, was the return of queen Mary
to Scotland. Bringing along with her that deep-
rooted enmity to the Reformation in which she had
been nurtured under her bigoted relatives lL
France, she was but too well disposed to throw her
weight at once into the scale of those who were
obstructing, from whatever motive, the progress
and prosperity of the Reformed church; while they
on the other hand found a fresh incentive to pursue
the course they had begun in the prospect of court
favour which it was so likely to procure. Accord-
ingly, when the General Assembly convened, the
first after the return of the queen, in December
1561, the separation between the two parties be—
came more open and proclaimed. “The courtiers,”
says Knox, “drew unto themselves some of the
lords, and would not convene with their brethren as
before they were accustomed, but kept themselves
to the abbey.”'l' A conference having taken place,
a scene occurred of which we make no apology for
extracting Knox’s graphic description, not simply
because of its own intrinsic interest, but especially
because of the light which it throws on the real
nature of the struggle which had now fairly begun.
“The reasoning was sharp and quick on either
side; the queen’s faction alleged, that it was
suspicious to princes that subjects should assemble
themselves and keep conventions without their
knowledge. It was answered that without the
knowledge of the prince the kirk did nothing, for
the prince perfectly understood that within that
realm there was a reformed kirk and that they had
their orders and appointed times of convention.
And so without knowledge of the prince they did
nothing. “ Yea, said Lethington, the queen knew
and knows well enough: but the question is,
whether the queen alters such conventions?” It was
answered, that if the liberty of the kirk stood or
should stand upon the queen’s allowance or dis-
allowance, we are assured not only to lack Assem-
blies, but also to lack the liberty of the public
preaching of the Evangel. That affirmative was
marked and the contrary affirmed. “ W'ell,” said
the other, “time will try the truth ; but to my former
words this will I add take from us the freedom of
Assemblies and take from us the Evangel: for with-
out Assemblies how shall good order and unity in

‘ M‘Crie's Life of Knox. Vol. II.. p. 3, foot note.
+ Knox‘s Hjlstory, p. ‘256.



xx vi
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO





doctrine be kept? 9* *1‘ 9* 9* Hereafter,” continues
the Reformer, “was the Book of Discipline proponed
and desired to have been ratified by the queen’s
majesty.” That was scripped (derided) ‘at: and
the question was demanded,—“ How many of
those that subscribed that book would be subject
unto it ?” It was answered, "' All the godly.”
“ \Vill the duke?” said Lethington. “If he will
not,” answered the lord Ochiltree, “ I would that
he were scraped out, not only of that book, but also
out of our number and company: for, to what pur-
pose shall labours be taken to put the kirk in order,
and to what end shall men subscribe, and then
never mean to keep word of that which they pro—
mise ?” Lethington answered, “Many subscribed
them in fideparentzmz, as the children are baptized.”
One, to wit, John Knox, answered, “Albeit ye
think that scoff proper, yet as it is most untrue, so
it is most improper. That book was read in public
audience, and by the space of divers days the heads
thereof were reasoned, as all that here sit know
well enough, and ye yourselves cannot deny: so
that no man was required to subscribe that which he
understood not.” “Stand content”-—said one——
“that book will not be obtained.” “Let God,”
said the other, “require the lack which this poor
commonwealth shall have of the things therein con—
tained, from the hands of such as stop the same.“
It were beside the object of the present essay, to
attempt to trace out in detail the conflict which had
now fairly begun between the Erastian spirit of
the court, on the one hand, and the Reformed church
bent on the vindication of her freedom, on the other.
Suffice it to say that, though both smiles and threats
were employed to seduce the Reformers from their
principles, they nobly maintained their ground.
Acting on her own intrinsic authority as a divine
institution, the church proceeded to perfect her
arrangements; to put her discipline in force; and to
carry out her own views of the constitution given
to her by her divine Head and Lord, in his own
holy word. “ They took not their example,” says
Row, “from any kirk in the world, no not from
Geneva.” Their aim was to form all things “ ac-
cording to the pattern showed to them,” in the
volume of inspiration. Accordingly, without any
sanction from the state, and entirely on her own
responsibility, the church held a series of General
Assemblies, reaching fi‘om 1560 to 1567; in the
course of which she developed all the great features
of Presbyterian government. She sanctioned the
office of elder; instituted kirk sessions for the
exercise of church discipline in each congregation;
erected provincial synods; claimed and exercised
all the powers and functions of a true church of
"' Knox’s History of the Reformation. H‘Gavin‘s Ed. p. 257.

Christ. So far from yielding up any of her scrip-
tural rights and liberties under the pressure of that
hostility with which, in asserting them, she was
constantly assailed, she held on her way through
sunshine and storm, with unabating energy and
faithfulness, until at length, in the good providence
of God, the state, in 1567, consented to take her
into union upon her own terms. The statute by
which in that year she was recognised as the na-
tional church, did not pretend to confer upon her
a constitution, or to convey to her the spiritual
jurisdiction she was thenceforth to exercise. It
dealt with the church as an existing institution,
having already her own peculiar powers in full
operation, and simply ratified what the church al-
ready possessed as her own rightful and inalienable
jurisdiction derived to her fi‘Olll the Lord Jesus
Christ.
The struggle, however, by no means terminated
here. N o sooner had the church, by her growing
moral influence, and by her steadfast and unwearied
assertion of the great Scripture principles she had
imbodied in her constitution, wrung from the state
a ratification of her rights and liberties, than eflbrts
to subvert them were renewed with greater energy
and bitterness than ever. It is instructive to mark
through what means these assaults were made on
the constitution of the church, and on the privileges
of her people. W’ hen the act 1567, above alluded
to, was passed, the only point at which a pretext
for interference with the spiritual affairs proper to
the church was left open, was in regard to the
appointment of ministers. By the statute in ques-
tion, “ The ministers and people professing the re-
formed faith,” were, “declared to be the only true
church of Christ within the realm ;” (c. 6.) and the
“examination and admission of ministers,” was
ordained to be “ only in the power of the kirk now
openly and publicly professed within the same ;”—
but,——and here was the seemingly narrow crevice
at which the secular power has never failed to
thrust in its hand, to the deadly injury of evangeli-
cal religion,—-“ the presentation of laic patronages
was always reserved to the just and ancient pa-
trons.” The clnu*ch had formerly declared against
lay patronage, by laying down in her first Book of
Discipline, as already noticed, the broad general
principle, that “ it appertaineth to the people and
to every several congregation to elect their minister.”
In adverting, therefore, to the fact of their submit-
ting to a system under which lay patronage was to
be maintained, it is due to the Reformers to state,
that the evil was at that time confined within com~
paratively narrow limits. “ Of the parochial bene-
fices of Scotland, amounting to nearly 1000, all
except 262 had been annexed permanently, by

THE SCOTS W ORTHIES.
xxv'n



grant of the patrons, to abbacies and other religious
institutions which came in place of the rector, and
as such drew the tithes; while the spiritual duty
was performed either by a member of the establish-
ment, or a stipendiary substitute or curate, paid by
a salary, or at times by a vicar having right to
Vicarage tithes. All these appropriated parochial
benefices were thus merged in the greater benefices
to which they had been annexed, and the patron-
age was altogether sunk and extinguished; no pre-
sentation being ever required to be made, the bene-
fice being always full by the continued existence of
the abbacy or other religious institution to which
it had been granted. After the Reformation these
greater benefices (abbacies, priories, &c.) were
erected into temporal lordships, in favour of pri-
vate individuals, who were called “ Lords of Erec-
tion,” or “ Titulars,” being in titulo of the benefices
so erected, including of course the whole annexed
parochial benefices of the erected lordship. These
individuals thus came into the same situation with
the religious institutions; being entitled, as titular
rectors, to draw the tithe of their respective paro-
chial benefices, under the obligation of providing
the cure to be served. This obligation the lords
of erection in very few instances fulfilled ; and the
ministers serving the cure, though sometimes having
a stipend from these parties, were generally sup-
ported out of the fund of “ thirds,’”* or the contri-
butions of their flocks. In no case, however, had
they any right to the benefice, but were mere sti-
pcndiaries; and there was no room for any presenta-
tion to the benefice, which was always filled by the
titular and descended to his heirs. Accordingly, lord
Stair, the highest authority in our law, with re-
ference to these churches, says, that “ there were no
patronagcs of all these Icirks.”
Again, as to the 262 non-annexed, and therefore
still patronate benefices, the patronage of a con-
siderable number belonged to bishops or religious
houses ; but by the Act 1567 it was only as to late
patronages that the right of presentation was re-
served, so that all those which had been in the pre-
sentation of ecclcsiastics now became free.”T
There can be no doubt that this consideration avail-
eal greatly in inducing the Reformers to tolerate the
existence of patronage. Had faith been kept with
the church, four-fifths, at least, of the parishes of
* The name given to the propoition, nominally a third part
of the ecclesiastical property, which was professedly appro—
priated, after the Reformation, to the maintenance of the
Reformed clergy. The great barons who seized on the
residue, and who thus defeated, by their avarice, the patriotic
schemes of the Reformers for the support of the poor, and
the universal education of the people, were derisively termed
by one of their own order "' my lords of the tvva pairts.“
'l' Dunlop’s letter to Dean of Faculty, pp. 48. 49.

Scotland would have been entirely free from that
unnatural and oppressive yoke. Falling to be re‘-
gulated by ecclesiastical authority, they would have
come under the rule which the church had already
laid down, that the members of each congregation
should elect their own minister; and, the “ examina-
tion and admission” of all ministers being “only in
the power of the kirk,” the whole proceeding would
have been ordered and concluded in strict accord-
ance with the great Scripture principles of the
church’s own constitution. But in this case, as in
every other, we see the force of the celebrated
maxim, “ obsta pr-incz'piz's.” The little leaven soon
leavened the whole lump. Lay patronage, at first
limited to a small fraction of the parishes, was
speedily extended over the whole kingdom. For, as
the same writer already quoted from observes,
“After king James assumed the reins of govern-
ment, he resorted to the practice of including a
right of presenting to the annexed churches, in his
erections of the greater benefices into temporal
lordships, rc-erecting the parochial benefices and
subjecting them-to patronage.“e
But having seen how lay patronage, from a
comparatively small beginning, gradually spread
itself over all the parishes of Scotland, it will now
be necessary to mark how patronage opened the
door for prelacy. It has been mentioned in a fore-
going quotation, that the abbacies, priories, and
other greater benefices, were after the Reformation
erected into temporal lordships in favour of private
individuals—court favourites or powerful barons
eager to enrich themselves out of the spoils of the
popish church. This system and the train of gross
abuses connected with it came in by degrees. The
dignitaries of the church of Rome, though disowned
by the nation, in 1560, as to their ecclesiastical
functions, were allowed to retain two-thirds of the
revenues which had formerly been attached to their
office. As these larger benefices fell vacant by the
| this proposition the court and the more avaricious
l
l
l
l
|
|
l
1
death or forfeiture of the popish prelates, the de-
sign of the Reformers and the claim of the Reform-
ed church, was, that they should be appropriated
to the maintenance of the religious and literary
establishments of the country. It was by such an
arrangement they prepared, and hoped to carry into
execution, their noble and truly patriotic schemes
for the diffusion of education and religious instruc-
tion, throughout the whole body of the people. To
portion of the nobility had from the first been re-
solutely opposed. It stood too directly in the way
of their own selfish and ambitious schemes. There
was, however, a difficulty to be surmounted before
1‘- Dunlop’s letter, p. 49.



xxviii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO








ops,” observes Calderwood, “were called T ulchan
Bishops. A Tulchan is a calvis skinne stuffed with
straw, to caus the kow give milke. For the lords
gott the benefices, and presented suche a man as
would be content with the least commoditie, and
sett the rest in fewes, tacks, pensions, to them or
theirs.”'* Nor do they seem to have been treated
with much ceremony by those whose creatures they
were, when they failed in any case to serve the base
purpose for which they were designed. There is
an anecdote related in Melville’s diary respecting
Boyd, who upon this same simoniacal system had
been made bishop of Glasgow, which sufliciently
illustrates this remark. “This Mr James Boid,”
says he, “ was a gentleman of the Lord Boid’s kin,
a guid man, and lover of lerning and lernd men,
inducit be his chietf to tak the bishopric, the gift
whereof the said Lord Boid, being a graitt coun-
sellor to the regent, haid purchasit for his commo-
ditie: bot within a yeir or twa, when he fund
nocht his Bischope plyable to his purpose, he caust
his sone, the Maistcr of Boid, tak the Castell and
intromit with all than-in, keepe it, and gather ups
the rents of the bishoprik to intertein the saming;
and this was done impune, nochtwithstanding the
Regents streat justice, because the Tulchan causit
nocht the kow gifi" milk aneuche to my Lord.”1'
The system thus begun by Morton speedily
became general. As the death or forfeiture of the
Romish dignitaries left the greater benetices and
rich livings which they still held to fall vacant, they
were now openly conferred on men of rank and in-
fiuence,——on men who had neither the qualifications
nor the desire to exercise any spiritual function.
In this way pluralities multiplied. Schemes of per-
sonal aggrandizement and ambition were prosecuted
at the expense of trampling on all the sanctities oi
the ministry, and on the most valued rights and
privileges of the church. An instance of this latter
kind took place in the case of the very first of the
Tulchan bishops, Douglas of St Andrews, to which
it may not be unimportant to refer, as serving to
bring out the clear and well-defined views that were
already held on the grand question, which, both in
ancient and modern times, has entered so deeply
into the contendings of the Church of Scotland—
the question of the separate and independent juris-
diction of the church of Christ. It has been noticed
in a former part of this Essay, that the fund out of
which the ministry of the Reformed church was at this
period maintained was known by the name of the
“ thirds,” a third part of the ecclesiastical revenues
formerly belonging to the church of Rome having
been at least nominally set apart for this purpose.
these schemes could be realized. The revenues of
the bishoprics were ecclesiastical property, held by
an ecclesiastical tenure. To seeularize them entirely,
and all at once, was a step too bold even for rapa-
city like theirs. And on the other hand, for secular
men to hold these revenues, was to run too out-
rageously in the face of law and justice. It is a
somewhat singular and very memorable fact, that
Scottish prelacy owed its rise, subsequently to the
Reformation, to this dilemma of needy courtiers
and rapacious feudal lords. It happened thus:
Upon the execution of Hamilton the popish arch-
bishop of St Andrews in 1571, the earl of Morton
procured a gift of the archbishopric with power to
dispose of its revenues. As events of this nature
had for some time been anticipated, the expectants
of these rich prizes had privately agreed upon a
method, by which to make good their title to the
booty. “The expedient resolved on was, that the
bishoprics and the other rich livings should be pre-
sented to certain ministers, who, previous to their
admission, should make over the principal part of
the revenues to such noblemen as had obtained the
patronage of them from the court.”'‘6 In prosecu--
tion of this scheme, Morton, in violation of the law
and constitution of the Reformed church, presented
Douglas, rector of the University of St Andrews,
to the archbishopric. Morton had the efi'i'ontery
to ask Knox to inaugurate Douglas. Instead of
consenting, the intrepid Reformer pronounced an
anathema against both the giver and the receiver
of this prelatic dignity. The transaction was dis-
creditable to both parties alike; if there was sacri-
lege on the one side, there was simony on the other.
The light in which the sort of bastard prelacy thus
introduced was universally regarded, may be ga-
thered from the quaint and pithy note of a sermon
preached by Patrick Adamson, shortly thereafter,
and which is preserved in James Melville’s singu-
larly interesting diary. “ I heard a sermont of his
the ouk after the Bischope was maid, upon ane
extraordinar day, that he might haitf the greater
audience; wherein he made thrie sorts of Bis-
choppes: My Lord Bischop, My Lord’s Bischop,
and the Lord’s Bischope. ‘My Lord Bischope,’
says he, ‘was in the Papistrie ; my Lord’s Bischope
is now, when my Lord getts the benefice and the
Bischope serves for na thing but to mak his tytle
sure: and the Lord’s Bischope is the true Minister
of the Grospel.”’]L The sarcastic description thus
given of “ my Lord’s Bischop,” was so literally true,
that the people very soon learned to give those who
so degraded themselves and betrayed their church,
the appropriate name of Tulchans.
* M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, Vol. II., p. 197.
+ Melvilles Diary, \Voda'ow edition, p. 3'2.
“ These Bish- ‘
*5 Calderwood, \Vodrow edition, Vol. IV, pp. ‘Z67, ‘208.
+ Helvillek Diary, Wodrow edition, pp. 47, 48.



THE SCOTS
\VORTHIES. mix



The collectors of the church were interdicted fi'om
levying this portion of the tithes of the archbishop-
ric of St Andrews by the earl of Morton, because
they refused to pay over the amount to his crea-
ture Douglas. It was on this occasion one of the
most eminent of the Scots \Vorthies of that or any
subsequent age, Erskine of Dun, addressed an
earnest remonstrance to the regent Mar, with whose
concurrence the proceedings of Morton had been
carried on. “There is,” says he, “ a spiritual
jurisdiction and power which God has given unto
his Kirk and to them that bear office therein;
and there is a temporal jurisdiction and power
given of God to kings and civil magistrates. Both
the powers are of God, and most agreeing to the
fortifying one of the other if they be right used.
But when the corruption of man enters in, con-
founding the offices, usurping to himself what he
pleases, nothing regarding the good order appointed
of God, then confusion follows in all estates. The
Kirk of God should fortify all lawful power and
authority that pertains to the civil magistrate, be-
cause it is the ordinance of God; but if he pass
the bounds of his office and enter within the sanc-
tuary of the Lord, meddling with such things as
a-ppertain to the ministers of God’s Kirk, then the
servants of God should withstand his unjust enter-
prise; for so are they commanded of God.“
The progress of this struggle strikingly showed
how the toleration of one abuse paves the way for
the introduction of another. Lay patronage, that
root of bitterness which was left behind when the
church first entered formally into connexion with
the state, in 1567, grew up and increased until it
overspread the whole church. Its existence both
tempted and enabled those who obtained grants of
ecclesiastical propertyto introduce prelacy. Had lay
patronage had no existence in the Reformed church;
had the principles of the First Book of Discipline
been from the beginning insisted 011 as those on which
alone any ecclesiastical ofiicebearer could be cho-
sen, the T ulchan scheme would have found an ob-

stacle in its way which nothing short of the church's
overthrow could have removed.
was the patent doorway at which the world intruded l
into the church, at which a power purely secular ,
and earthly came in to domineer over the spiritual
affairs of the sanctuary. It is true that the nobles I
and courtiers on whom the greater benefices had I
been conferred were violating the law and consti-
tution of the church, when, in order to carry out
their selfish ends, they took upon them to present
men to the vacant sees, bringing prelacy into a But the existence of lay;
Lay patronage
patronage, the recognition of a right founded on
the mere possession of property or feudal lordship,
to nominate men to offices purely spiritual, could
not fail both to encourage and facilitate the Tulchan
scheme. And both patronage and prelacy were
the grand pretexts on which the civil power founded
its Erastian interference with the liberties of the
church.
It has been remarked in a former part of this
Essay, that when the church’s struggle for evangeli-
cal doctrine was at its height, the Lord suddenly
brought a mighty auxiliary into the field, in the
person of John Knox. Soon after her second
great contest, her struggle for a scriptural system
of policy, had begun to assume a serious and
alarming form, that eminent servant of God, en-
feebled by age, and worn down with incessant toil,
was withdrawn from a world of sin and strife to
the holy and peaceful “ rest which remaineth for
the people of God.” Nor is it possible to read the
history of those discouraging events connected with
the Church of Scotland, which immediately pre-
ceded and followed his death, without being made
deeply sensible what a loss the cause of truth and
righteousness sustained, when his powerful mind
and dauntless courage were no longer present.
But the same watchful and gracious Providence
that called him forth 'at the very period when the
work, which he of all men was most qualified to
perform, stood most in need of his aid, now again,
at a moment equally critical, interposed. After an
absence of ten years from his native land, Andrew
Melville, in 1574, arrived in Scotland. The repu-
tation he had earned abroad may be gathered from
the observation of Beza, then, perhaps, the most
learned and renowned of the continental divines,
who, in a letter to the General Assembly of the
Church of Scotland, written when Melville left
Switzerland to return home, makes this significant
remark, " that the greatest token of affection the
Kirk of Geneva could show to Scotland, was that
they had suffered themselves to be deprived of Mr
Andrew hlelville.”
\Vhat rendered his presence in his own country
peculiarly seasonable and necessary was, the cir-
cumstance that Morton was now the regent of
Scotland.
It may be readily supposed that the founder of
the system of Tulchan bishops would not be less
‘ likely to pros-acute his Erastian eneroachments on




presbyterian church. i
* Iletheringtonis History of the Church of Scotland, p. l'ZT. .
+ The presentation of the bishops to their sees ran in the
the church’s (onstitution and liberties, now that he
had gained the seat of power and had in his hands
the government of the kingdom. I'Iis daring and
determined character must in any position have
name of the regent, though they were, of course, the nmninees
of those on whom the revenues of the sees had been conferred.
_-_____._____.
XXX
HISTORIC AL INTRODUCTION TO




Jaw-"gnu



made him a formidable antagonist. And, perhaps,
when a few days after his appointment to the
regency, he attended Knox’s funeral, and pro-
nounced over the Reformer’s grave the well—known
eulogy, “There lies he that never feared the face of
man,” it was with a secret satisfaction that the
grand obstacle to his selfish and ambitious schemes
was now out of the way. He had yet to learn that
the quiver of Zion’s King was not emptied of its
arrows. In the struggle for Bible doctrine the
queen regent was no match for Knox. In the
struggle for Bible discipline even Morton proved no
match for Andrew h/Ielville.
IfMorton loved his Tulchan scheme for the sake
of its pecuniary results, he loved it, if possible, still
more for the facilities it promised to afford in ac-
complishing his despotic purpose of subverting the
independence of the church. The correspondence
into which he had entered with queen Elizabeth
taught him how serviceable bishops were likely to
be, in bringing ecclesiastical affairs into harmony
with the wishes of the court. It seems to have
been for this reason that, while the priories and
abbacies of the Romish church, as has been already
noticed, were, for the most part, erected into tem-
poral lordships and conferred on the favourites of
the crown, this course was not followed with the
Romish bishoprics. From the outset of the Refor-
mation, it is probable the court secretly designed
to restore prelacy, though it was not till the regency
of Morton the design was vigorously prosecuted.
Had the object been simply to seize the episcopal
revenues, the simpler and more effectual plan would
have been to deal with them as they dealt with the
abbacies and priories, to have secularized them at
once. But as the thing to be secured was to com-
bine the plundering of the revenues of the bishops
with the preservation of their office, the Tulchan
scheme was devised. The degraded functionaries,
to whom that appellation was so fitly given, enabled
Morton to indulge both his avarice and his ambi-
tion. As the creatures of the court they paid over
to their masters the greater part of the revenues of
their sees, while they made their ofiice itself a tool
to serve the political ends of the ruler of the day.
prelatic and Erastian system was designed to rend
in pieces the constitution and liberties of the Re—
formed church, was introduced in 1572, at the con~
vention of Leith. The body of superintendents and
ministers which the regent of that day (Lennox)
had there convened, unhappily and unwarrantably
took to itself the authority and functions of a
General Assembly, and gave its consent, under the
pressure of adverse influences, that for the present
the titles of the bishops andarchbishops and the


bounds of their dioceses should remain as formerly.
They expressly stipulated, however, at the same
time, that whoever might be appointed to these
prelatic offices should have no higher jurisdiction
in the church than the superintendents had previ-
ously enjoyed; and should, like them, be subject
in all spiritual matters to the General Assemblies
of the church. But for this important reservation,
the sort of quasi sanction thus irregularly given, to
a kind of‘ nondescript prelacy, must have led to con-
sequences still more pernicious than those to which
it actually gave rise. It was on the footing of that
supremacy, thus reserved to the General Assemblies,
that the church found the chief means of defending
herself against the machinations of the court. The
convention of Leith had smoothed the court’s
way, in so far as the creating of bishops and there-
by posscssing itself indirectly of the episcopal
revenues was concerned. But the right of the
Assembly to control these bishops remained as a
point of defence when they came to be employed
as the court’s tools for Erastianizing the church.
Such was the posture of affairs when Melville
returned to Scotland,—-Morton at the height of his
power, pushing with his wonted energy the advan-
tage the convention of Leith had given to his fa-
vourite scheme,——the church roused to a sense of its
danger, and doing its utmost to resist the conse-
quences of that all but fatal error. As evangelical
truth seemed quivering in the balance when the
providential appearance of Knox so triumphantly
turned the scales, so scriptural discipline, the in-
dependence of the church’s government as a spiritual
kingdom, was in a state of equal peril when Melville
arrived. Nor was Morton blind to the influence
which this great man was likely to exert. The
regent met him with smiles and courtesies, and
sought with much skill and assiduity to buy off with
court favour one whose opposition he foresaw could
not fail to be formidable. But Melville was as little
moved by bribes and flattery, as his subsequent
history showed him to be indifferent to threats and
persecution. At the first meeting of the General
Assembly that took place after Melville’s return,
, steps were taken to prepare a more perfect scheme
The end of the wedge, by means of which this i
of church policy; and dissatisfaction with the state
in which ecclesiastical affairs had been left by the
convention at Leith was unequivocally indicated.
In a second Assembly which met the same year,
August 1575, the question was openly raised and
discussed: “Have bishops, as they are now in Sect-
land, their function from the word of God or not;
and ought‘ the chapters appointed for electing them
to be tolerated in a Reformed church?” Here the
grand test, the infallible rule of faith and manners,
is brought to bear on prelacy, the church evincing



THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
xxx'i



1ts determination to decide the point by that rule
alone. At the Assembly of the succeeding year, a
step, still more decidedly in advance, was taken,
when this deliverance was adopted by the House:
“' ‘hat the name of bishop is common to all who
are appointed to take charge of a particular flock
in preaching the word, administering the sacra-
ments, and exercising discipline with the consent of
their elders. and that this is their chief function
according to the word of God.” It is easy to un~
derstand how offensive such proceedings were to
the haughty regent. Speaking of this period in his
diary, James Melville quaintly observes that Morton
“ could nocht suffer Chryst to reing frielie be re-
buking of sinne, bot maid opposition to the minis-
trie of Edinbruche in public place; nor be the right
government of his Kirk be the Presbyterie of his
lawfullie callit pastors and elders; mislyked the
Assemblies Generall, and would haitf had the name
thairof changit that he might abolische the privilege
and force thairof, wharunto my uncle, Mr Andro,
speciallie opponit himself and thairby, and for the
Bischops, incurrit his speciall indignation.”‘*' It
was about this period that well'known incident oc-
curred which illustrated so strikingly the intolerance
of Morton on the one hand, and the high principle
and indomitable spirit of Melville on the other.
Having tried to bend the integrity of Melville by
offers of prefermcnt, and having found, to his bitter
disappointment, that even the mitre of St Andrews
had no charms to allure the honest presbyterian
from the path of duty, he had recourse to the more
characteristic expedient of threatening him with his
high displeasure. Hearing that the Assembly were
in the course of adopting some measures that were
calculated to cross his designs, he sent for Melville.
\Vhen the Reformer appeared, the regent began by
expatiating on the importance of preserving the
peace of the kingdom, and insinuated that it was
now in danger from the attempts certain individuals
were making to bring in their own foolish conceits,
or the laws of foreign churches to regulate the
ecclesiastical affairs of Scotland. To all this Mel--
ville calmly replied, that he and his brethren were
looking in all that they did to the word of God as
their only guide, as the authority which alone must
direct them in all spiritual things. Morton next
attacked the Assembly as having no right to con—
vene but by the allowance of the king, and called
it treason so to assemble the king's lieges without
his permission. If so, answered Melville, then must
Christ and his apostles have been guilty of treason;
for they unhesitatingly convocated multitudes, and
taught and governed them, without asking the con-
it» Melville's Diary, p. 6], lVodrow edition.

sent of the civil power. And that, moreover, all this
involved no disloyalty or want of respect to the
secular authorities, seeing that the Lord Jesus ever
commanded that the people should render unto
Cesar the things that were Cesar’s. Finding he
had so little success in argument, and impatient at
the resistance so calmly but resolutely offered to his
despotic schemes, the regent at length gave way to
the natural haughtiness and impetuosity of his char-
acter ; and biting the head of his staff, and speak-
ing in tones which few that knew the man could
have heard without alarm, he exclaimed: “There
will never be quietness in this country till half a
dozen of you be hanged or banished!” Tush, Sir,
replied Melville, threaten your courtiers after that
manner. It is the sainc to me whether I rot in
the air or in the ground. The earth is the Lord’s.
Patria est ubicumque est bene. I have been ready
to give my life where it would not have been half
so well wared, at the pleasure of my God. I have
lived out of your country ten years as well as in it.
Let God be glorified, it will not be in your power
to hang or exile his truth.”** The insolenee of
power was rebuked by the high daring of Christian
principle and conscious integrity. As Haman of
old began to fall from the day he committed him-
self against the people of God, so did it fare with
the regent Morton. All his sagacity and courage,
rank and influence, could not protect him from the
machinations of those enemies who laboured in-
cessantly to secure the overthrow of his power.
\Vithin a few months after his interview with Mel-
ville had indicated his determination to push mat-
ters to extremity against the friends of truth and
Reformation, he was compelled to resign the
regency. And although he subsequently regained
for a brief period an ascendency over the mind and
counsels of the youthful sovereign, James I., who,
in the twelfth year of his age had the reins of gov-
ernment placed in his hands, this gleam of return—
ing prosperity did not long endure. The court
favourites, who now surrounded the young king,
rested not till they had compassed Morton’s death.
He was beheaded upon a charge of treason, in 1581 ;
nor can I deny myself, or the reader, the gratifica-
tion of here introducing a singularly graphic and
touching passage on the subject of his death from
the diary of James Melville.
May he was brought till Edinbruche and keepe in
Robin Gourlayis house with a band of men of wear:
and the very dayes of his putting to assizee and
execution I happened to be ther in Edinbruche,
and heard and saw the notablest example bathe of
God's judgment and mercie that to my knowledge

* M‘Crie’s Life of Melville. Vol. 1., pp. 148, 149.
“ In the monthe of



xxxli
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO







ever fell out in my tyme. For in that Tolbuthe,
whar oftentymes during his government he had
wrysted and thrawn judgment, partly for gean
wharto he was gein, and partlie for particular favor,
was his judgment overthrown; and he who above
anie Scotsman had maist gear, friendschipe, and
clientell, had nane to speak a word for him that day,
but the graittest part of his assyzors being his
knawin unfriends he was condemned to be lieadit
on a skaffauld: and that head quhilk was sa wittie
in warldlie aflairres and polecic, and haid eommandit
with sic authoritie and dignitie within that toun
and judgment seat, to be sett upe on a prick upon
the hichest stane of the geavell of the Tolbuthe;
that is towards the publict streit. The quhilk
sentence, in my sight, was put in execution upon
the morne. But in grait mercie when the Lord
haid stryped him naked and bare of all these things
warldlie, and of a cable made a twynde thride, to
go in at the narrow ei of that needle, he guiff him,
after unfeiynit repentance, sic faithe and assurance of
his favour in Chryst, that he maist magnanimouslie
contemned insulting of enemies, bewaling of friends,
all warldlie dignitie, riches and pleasures, and tuk
him with his Chryst, be deathe to overcome and
gett the crown of lyff. * He keepit the
same countenance, gesteur, and schort sententious
form of language upon the skafl‘alde, quhilk he usit
in his princlie government. He spak,—-set about
and urgit be the commanders,——at the four newkes
of the skaffald: but after that ance he haid verre
feetfullie and gravelie uttered, at guid lainthe that
quhilk he had to speak, thairafter almaist he al—
tered nocht thir words: “ It is for my sinnes that
God has justlie brought me to this place, for gif I
haid servit my God als trewlie as I did my king I
haid nocht come heir. Bot as for that I am con-
demned for be men, I am innocent as God knows.
Pray for me.”516
It was almost immediately after his resignation
of the regency, in the year 1578, the General
Assembly completed, approved, and adopted the
great standard of ecclesiastical policy, commonly
called the Second Book of Discipline ; “ the quhilk,”
says James Melville, “because this declining age is
beginning to forget and slip fra,” he thought good
to insert entire in his diary. If we do not follow
his laudable example here, it is not certainly because
the present age is less in need, than the men of his
time were, of instruction on the great questions of
which this standard treats. The late disruption of
the Established Church, and the Erastian decisions
of the courts of law and of the supreme legislature,
which led to that memorable event, sufficiently
*4 Melville’s Diary.

show that Morton and king James were not more
hostile to the principles of a scriptural church
policy than are the lawyers and politicians of the
nineteenth century. The nature and design of this
Essay manifestly require a special notice of this im-
portant work,--a work, the completion of which,
together with the assertion and vindication of the.
principles it imbodies, we have described as con-
stituting the second branch of the church’s conflict
for the supremacy of Scripture, as the one infallible
rule to which her doctrine and discipline must be
conformed.
It was remarked before, that it ought to be re-
garded as a kind interposition of Providence that
hindered the settlement of the great subject of
church policy in 1560, when the Reformers first
brought it under the consideration of the estates of
parliament. There can be no doubt in the mind of
any one who has examined the ecclesiastical history
of those times, that while the legislature, addressed
by Knox and his colleagues, were both ignorant of,
and altogether averse to, the scriptural view of the
question, the Reformed church herself had not then
had occasion so thoroughly to study it, as to have
been in a favourable position for maintaining a con-
troversy regarding it. The struggle of two and
thirty years with the doctrinal errors of the church
of Rome had thoroughly qualified her for a clear
and comprehensive testimony on those truths which
immediately concern the way of salvation; and a
process not dissimilar in its nature, and equally pro“
longed, was the means by which she was destined
to be trained to a like maturity on all that relates
to the church's constitution and government, and
to the relation which these bear to the kingdoms
and governments of this world. \Vhat Cardinal
Benton and the queen regent had done to sift the
Reformed church’s doctrine from every remnant of
popery, Morton and king James were equally in-
strumental in doing to sift her policy from every
vestige of Erastianism.
The individuals who had been intrusted with the
weighty and responsible task of preparing the Book
of Policy were the elite of the church; they were
nominated by the Assembly of 157 6, and were se-
lected from different districts of the country, so as
to secure in their consultations on the subject a
full representation of the wisdom, piety, and learn--
ing of the whole church. Those from the west
country were, James, Bishop of Glasgow, Mr
Andrew Melville, Mr Andrew Hay, Mr James
Greig, Mr David Cunningham; for Lothian, Mr
Robert Pont, Mr James Lawson, Mr David Lind—
say; and along with them Mr Clement Little, and
Mr Alexander Sim, lawyers; for Fyfe, Mr John
\Vinrain. superintendent. with the principal masters



THE SCOTS \VORTHIES.
xxxiii


of the university of St Andrews; for Mearns and
Angus, Erskine of Dun, Mr \Villiam Christison, Mr
John Row, Mr \Villiam Rhind, Mr John Duncan-
son; for Aberdeen, Mr John Craig, and Mr Alex-
ander Arbuthnotff The result of their deliberations
was that noble form of ecclesiastical polity of which
M‘Crie has justly said, that “it has secured the
cordial and lasting attachment of the people of
Scotland. \Vhenever it has been wrested from them
by arbitrary violence, they have uniformly embraced
the first favourable opportunity of demanding its
restoration; and the principal secessions which have
been made from the national church in this part of
the kingdom have been stated, not in the way of
dissent from its constitution as in England, but in
opposition to departures, real or alleged, from its
original and genuine principles”;L
The work on which so competent an authority
has pronounced this merited eulogium is not more
remarkable for the profoundness of its views, than for
the logical accuracy with which they are arranged.
Beginning with a brief definition of the church, it
proceeds to state the origin and object of all ecclesi-
astical power. “This power ecclesiastical,” it says,
“is an authority granted by God the Father,
through the Mediator Jesus Christ, unto His church
gathered and having its ground in the word of God; '
and Governor of his church.


a a as a Them,
fore this power and policy of the church should lean
upon the word immediately, as the only ground
thereof, and should be taken from the pure foun-
tains of the Scriptures, the church hearing the voice
of Christ and being‘ ruled by his laws.” Having
thus, with admirable precision, set forth the church’s
relation to Christ, and her obligation, in all her
proper affairs, to be guided implicitly by his divine
word; the Book of Policy, for the further clearing
of this fundamental point, places over against one
another the respective provinces and functions of
the church and of the civil power, marking the ex-
tent and the limits of both,'and that with a com»
prehensiveness and an accuracy which leave nothing
to be desired.
“ As the ministers and others of the ecclesiastical
estate are subject to the magistrate civil, so ought
the person of the magistrate to be subject to the
church spiritually and in ecclesiastical government.
And the exercise of both these jurisdictions cannot
stand in one person ordinarily. The civil power is
called the power of the sword; and the other the
power of the keys.
“The civil power should command the spiritual
to exercise and do their office according to the
word of God; the spiritual rulers should require
the Christian magistrate to minister justice and
punish vice, and to maintain the liberty and quiet-
ness of the church within their bounds.
“The magistrate commands external things for
external peace and quietness among the subjects ;
the minister handles external things only for con-
science’ cause.
“The magistrate handles external things only,
and actions done before men; but the spiritual
ruler judges both inward affections and external
actions, in respect of conscience, by the word of
God.
“The civil magistrate craves and gets obedience
by the sword and other external means; but the
ministry by the spiritual sword and spiritual means.
“ The magistrate neither ought to preach, minis-
ter the sacraments, nor yet prescrlbe any rule how
it should be done, but command the ministers to
observe the rule commanded in the word and punish
the transgressors by civil means.'* The ministry
exerclse not the civil jurisdiction; but teach the
magistrate how it should be exercised according to
the word.
“The magistrate ought to assist, maintain, and
fortify the jurisdiction of the church. The minis-
ters should assist their prince in all things agreeable
to be put in execution by them unto whom the
spiritual government of the church, by lawful call-
ing, is committed.” The paragraphs of this in-
troductory chapter which follow, and which are
designed to point out the relation of the church of
Christ to the civil power, and to draw the line of
demarcation between them, seem clearly to indicate
the hand of Erskine of Dun, whose earnest and ad-
mirable remonstrance on this very point, addressed
to the regent )Iar, in 1571, we have already quoted.
Those who have studied the controversy which
originated the Free Church of Scotland, can hardly
fail to notice that it turned entirely on those clear
and scriptural views of the constitution of the church
of Christ, which more than two centuries and ahalf
ago were laid down in the Second Book of Discip-
line. “ This power and policy ecclesiastical,” it
observes, “ is different and distinct in its own nature
from that power and policy which is called the cin'l
power, and appertains to the civil government of
the commonwealth; albeit they be both of God.
and tend to one end if they be rightly used; to wit,
to advance the glory of God, and to have godly and
good subjects. For, this power ecclesiastical flows
immediately fi'om God and the Mediator Jesus:
Christ, and is spiritual, not having a temporal head i
on earth but only Christ, the only spiritual King l
' Mel ville's Diary, “'odrow edition, p. 55.
'l‘ BI‘Crie’s Life of Melville. Vol. I., p. 1'25.
* As for example, by depriving ministers deposed by the
, church for proper ecclesiastical offences, of the civil emolu-
ments granted by the state.


xxxiv
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO







to the word, providing they neglect not their own
charge by involving themselves in civil affairs.
“Finally, as ministers are subject to the judg-
ment and punishment of the magistrate in external
things, if they offend, so ought the magistrates to
submit themselves to the discipline of the church,
if they transgress in matters of conscience and
religion.” '
A more tl‘orough and yet concise exposition than
these paragraphs contain was perhaps never given,
of all that is involved in that memorable command,
“ Render unto Cesar the things that are Cesar’s, and
unto God the things that are God’s.” They strike
the golden, because the scriptural mean, between
the spiritual despotism, in the exercise of which
popery would enslave the state to the church;
and the Erastian oppression, by the force of which
the state would’ bend the church into a mere tool
of the civil power. The divine origin and authority
of both ordinances—the church and the state—are
fully owned; their distinct provinces and functions
are clearly laid down; their mutual duties and their
individual independence are defined and declared.
In a word, that very constitution of things for which
the Church of Scotland so strenuously contended
is here fully set forth. In the one we see the exact
image of the other.
Having thus carefully defined the nature and
limits of church power, and having with such
remarkable clearness and precision “ redd the
marches” between the civil and ecclesiastical uris-
dictions, this admirable standard points out in its
Second Chapter the “persons or officebearers to
whom the administration is committed.” “There
be three extraordinary functions, the office of the
apostle, of the ev. ngelist, and of the prophet, which
are not perpetual, and nowhave ceased in the church
of God, except when it pleased God extraordinarily
to stir up some of them again. There are four
ordinary functions or offices in the church of God,
the office of the pastor, minister or bishop; the
doctor; the presbyter or elder; and the deacon.”
Here prelacy is explicitly repudiated, and that
parity of rank and authority among the ministers
of the gospel which is the characteristic of presby-
terianism is laid down. The Third Chapter takes
up the question: “How the persons that bear
ecclesiastical functions are admitted to their office?”
As in the first chapter so much pains was bestowed
to assert and vindicate the crown rights of the
church‘s Head, so here a becoming solicitude is
evinced to guard the purchased liberties and privi—
leges of his people. The ordinary calling of the
church’s oflicebearers is declared to consist “in the
calling of God, and the testimony of a good con-
science.” together with “the lawful approbation

and outward judgment of men.” This latter, or
outward calling, is explained as being made up of
two things, election and ordination; election is de-
scribed as the choosing out of a person or persons
most qualified for the vacant office “ by the judg-
ment of the eldership (presbytery) and consent of
the congregation;” and it is added, as a general
and fundamental rule to be observed in all cases,
“ that no person be intruded into any of the oflices
of the church, contrary to the will of the congrega-
tion to which they are appointed, or without the
voice of the eldership.” At first sight it might.
seem as if in these words there was a receding from
the ground taken up in the First Book of Discipline,
in which it was expressly laid down, that“ it apper-
taineth to the people and to every several congre—
gation to elect their minister.” It has been alleged.
indeed, that the First Book of Discipline never was
ratified, even by the church herself, and that now
it was entirely superseded by the Second Book
adopted in 1578. On this subject, Dr M‘Crie, a
witness of the very highest authority, remarks in
his evidence taken before the anti-patronage com-
mittee of the House of Commons in 1835 : “ I
have a number of passages marked down which,
I think, in the most distinct manner prove that it
was ratified by the church as an authority in eight
or ten General Assemblies, fi*om the second Assem-
bly to 1571; it is mentioned once in the minutes of
almost every meeting of Assembly, often thrice,
four times, and more frequently.”*‘ And further,
to the question “ Did the Second Book of Discip-
line set aside the first, or establish a different mode
from it as to the election of ministers ?”-——Dr M‘Crie
replies, “I do not think that the First Book of
Discipline was supplanted by the Second. *6 if *6 '*
Nor do I think that the Second Book of Discipline
lays down any doctrine on the subject of the elec-
tion of ministers, substantially different from the
first.” The apparent difference he proves to arise
from the circumstance, that the Second Book com-
prehends under the one term “election” that which
the First Book divided into two points, election
and examination. And he adds iri further explana-
tion of the point, “that the jurisdiction of the church
was called in question at this time by the court:
and as this jurisdiction had been ratified by parlia-
ment, the Assembly, by declaring that election and
examination belong to this jurisdiction, at once
asserted their own rights, and took the liberties of
the people under their wing.”]L
It were out of place in this Essay to adduce the
arguments and authorities by which Dr H‘Crie sup-
ports these views. Suffice it to say, they appear thor-
*“ Minutes of Evidence,°p. 358.
'1' Minutes of Evidence, p. 358.



THE SCOTS \VORTHIES.
X XXV



oughly to bear out his conclusion that the Second
Book of Discipline takes up substantially the same
ground, on the question of the election of ministers,
which the First Book had so clearly laid down. One
thing it is highly important to notice in connexion
with this subject, and that is, the judgment this
standard of church policy pronounces regarding
the whole system of lay patronage. Being a yoke
imposed upon the church by an external power, no
mere decision of the ecclesiastical courts could re-
move it. But among those “special heads of re-
formation” which in this Book of Policy the church
craved, was this explicit statement in reference to
patronage. “ Because this order which God’s word
craves (i. e. as to the liberties of the people and the
courts of the church in electing ministers) cannot
stand with patronages and presentations to benefices
used in the pope’s church, we desire all them that
truly fear God earnestly to consider that, foras-
much as patronages and benefices, together with
the effect thereof, have flowed from the pope and
corruption of the canon law only, in so far as thereby
any person was intruded or placed over churches
having curam am'marum. And forasmuch as that
manner of proceeding has no ground in the word
of God, but is contrary to the same, and to the said
liberty of election; they ought not now to have
place in this light of reformation.” The Fourth
Chapter defines the nature and duties ofthe pastoral
office. The Fifth Chapter treats of the office of the
doctors or teachers of theology. The Sixth Chapter
“ of elders and their ofiice;” ‘that is, of those elders
who are appointed “ to rule,” but not “to labour
in word and doctrine.” The Seventh Chapter in
due order proceeds to the consideration of those
ecclesiastical courts, in and through which the
otfieebearers of the church are to exercise their
spiritual government; and states that of these there
are four sorts :—the congregational court or kirk-
session ; the district courts, as presbyteries or
synods; the national court or General Assembly;
the universal or oecumenical council, composed of
the representatives of all true Christian churches.
The duties devolving on each of these are concisely
laid down, and the final end of them all is declared to
be "' first to keep the religion and doctrine in purity
without error and corruption; next to keep come-
liness and good order in the church.” The Eighth
Chapter discusses the office of deacons; the Ninth
treats of the patrimony of the church. The Tenth
returns to the grand question which in its more
general bearings was so fully expounded in the intro~
ductory chapter; the relation, viz., of the church
to the civil power. The title of this important
chapter is, "‘ Of the office of a Christian magistrate
in the church;’’ and while the Second Book of

Discipline here readily accords to such, and requires
of him all which the Reformers held that Scripture
had given him—the right and duty of “maintaining,
fostering, upholding, and defending the church,
against all that would procure the hurt thereof,”—
there the same care best-owed to discriminate
his functions as a civil ruler, from those which pro-
perly and exclusively belong to the courts of the
church. It concedes to him a power circa sacm
but none in sacris. It belongs to him “to
make laws and constitutions agreeable to God’s
word, for advancement of the church and policy
thereof,” but always “without usurping anything
that pertains not to the civil sword, but belongs to
the affairs that are merely ecclesiastical; as is the
ministry of the word and sacraments, using of ecclesi -
astical discipline and the spiritual execution thereof;
or any part of the power of the spiritual keys,
which our Master gave to the apostles and their
true successors.”
The eleventh Chapter reviews “the present abuses
remaining in the church.” Among these a promi-
nent place is assigned to that whole mongrel system
which was sanctioned by the Convention at Leith,
and which bred so much trouble and peril to the
church. In the Twelfth Chapter are enumerated
certain special heads of reformation which the
church thereby pledged herself to seek, one of the
chiefest of which, as has been already noticed, was
the abolition of Lay Patronage; and finally, the
closing chapter of the work, adverting to the mani-
fold advantages which the recognition and enforce-
ment of this noble standard of policy might be ex-
pected to bring, both in the way of promoting the
honour and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, the im-
provement of other churches, the comfort of the
poor, the prosperity of the people, the safety of the
king and country, thus concludes: “all being wil-
ling to apply themselves to this order, the people
suffering themselves to be ruled according thereto :
the princes and magistrates not being exempt, and
those that are placed in the ecclesiastical estate,
rightly ruling and governing, God shall be glorified,
the church edified, and the bounds thereof enlarged,
Christ Jesus and his kingdom set up, Satan and his
kingdom subverted, and God shall dwell in the
midst of us, to our comfort, through Jesus Christ,
who, together with the Father and the Holy Ghost,
abide blessed in all eternity. Amen 3”
Such is the Second Book of Discipline. Its char-
acteristic feature is undoubtedly the clear and un-
qualified assertion which it makes of the church’s
spiritual independence, of her right and duty to
take direction in her spiritual affairs, only from the
pure fountains of the Scriptures, “ hearing the
voice of Christ, and being ruled by His laws."



xxxvi
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



Founded on and flowing out of this fundamental
truth, a distinct recognition is made of the privi-
leges of the christian people. These privileges
have been invaded and overborne in other churches
chiefly in two ways,—by the despotism of prelacy on
the one hand, and by the usurpations of lay patron-
age on the other. Against both of these sources of
oppression, the Second Book of Discipline lifts up a
solemn protest, denouncing them as forbidden by
the word of God, and therefore to be repudiated by
every church which desires to regulate her consti-
tution and government by the only infallible rule of
faith and manners These are unquestionably the
salient points of this great standard of church
policy ; and here accordingly it may be truly said,
we have an epitome of the principles for which the
Scottish \Vorthies chiefly suffered, and a conclusive
proof of their substantial identity with those which
have distinguished the memorable controversy of
our own times. This will sufficiently appear as we
now proceed with our Historical Sketch of these
events in which the principles of the Second Book
of Discipline were put to the test.
The church having now fairly taken her stand on
those scriptural views of policy, which her Second
Book of Discipline so clearly laid down, proceeded
resolutely to put them in force. Tulchan prelacy
having been the court’s grand instrument for break-
ing down her presbyterian constitution and her
spiritual discipline, her first efforts were directed
to the overthrow of that corrupt and disgraceful
institution. For this purpose the General Assembly,
of 1580, passed an act condemning prelatic episco-
pacy, as having no warrant from the word of God,
and requiring peremptorily all those who had ac-
cepted the ofiice of bishop to demit the same imme-
diately. Such was the influence exerted by this
unanimous decision of the supreme ecclesiastical
court, that, within the same year, all the bishops but
five submitted themselves to its authority. It was
now evident that the Tulchan scheme was on the eve
of being completely overturned, and along with it all
hope of Erastianizing the church. But the court
had no mind to abandon the contest, and, accord-
ingly, a very memorable, and in reference to the
object of this Essay, a highly instructive collision
between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities en-
sued. It arose, in 1581, out of the well-known case
of Robert Montgomery, ——-a case of which an eminent
authority remarks, that it “ deserves particular
attention; for it will be found that the very same
question formed the main subject of dispute in all
the subsequent contendings of the church, whatever
shape or form these may have taken, just as it forms
the real subject in dispute at present.“ The case
* Dunlop's Letter to the Dean of Faculty, p. 52.

fell out thus :——On the death of Boyd, archbishop
of Glasgow, in June, 1581, the duke of Lennox,
the favourite of the day, obtained from the privy
council a grant of the revenues of the vacant see.
To make this grant available to the duke, one or
other of two things was necessary: either the rev-
enues of the archbishopric must be secularized and
erected into a temporal lordship in the duke’s
favour, as had been done in the case of the forfeited
abbacies and priories, or some one must be found
willing to be made the court’s tool, by accepting an
ecclesiastical office which the church had expressly
repudiated, and agreeing to reward his master for
the dignity conferred on him by handing over the
revenues to the duke. To have done the former
would have been for the court to relinquish the
attempt to set up prelacy. It would have been to
give up the attack upon the church’s spiritual liber-
ties, and to content itself with robbing her of her
temporal goods. But, bent as the court was on
having, not the property alone of the church, but
the church herself under secular control, a deter-
mination was evinced at all hazards to adhere to
the Tulchan scheme; and therefore the latter
alternative was at once adopted. The court re~
solved to fill up the archbishopric of Glasgow, and
Robert Montgomery, then minister of Stirling, was
the person selected to play this despicable and des-
perate game. This resolution at once and inevitably
brought the church into direct conflict with the civil
power, and that on a point so radical and essential
that to yield was impossible. The real question at
issue was this: “ Is the state to decide for the church
what shall be the form of her government?” The
church acting on the great fundamental principle
laid down in her Second Book of Discipline, thaT
the “policy of the church must lean on the word
inimediately,”—1nust be “taken from the pure
fountains of the Scriptures,”—had come to the
conclusion that prelacy is not sanctioned by that
only infallible authority, and that presbytery on the
other hand is of divine institution. In opposition
to, and defiance of this solemn judgment, the civil
power, represented by the privy council, virtually
declared that the church must disregard “the voice
of Christ her only spiritual King,” and adopt pre-
lacy at the bidding of Cesar. The state, it is true,
was not bound to adopt the church’s decision as its
own; on the contrary, as a professedly Christian
government, it was under an obligation to Him
who is the King of nations, as well as King of Zion,
to have exercised its own deliberate and independent
judgment on this question of church government;
just as the estates of parliament, which represented
the supreme civil power, in 1560, exercised their
judgment on the question of church doctrine. IQ




THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
xxrvii


I
after hearing the church upon the point, and using
whatever other means of coming to a full and ma-
ture decision it might think fit to employ, the result
should have been a conviction that not presbytery
but prelacy was the divinely instituted form of
church government,—-what in this event would
have been the state’s correct and lawful course of
proceeding? N ot certainly to overhear the church
by force; not to settle a question of Scripture prin-
ciple as Brennus, the haughty invader of ancient
Rome, proposed to settle a question of tribute by
throwing his sword into the scale. If the mind of
the church was to be changed, it could be so, legiti-
mately, only by an appeal to Scripture. And if
that appeal failed to bring both parties to one, the
liberty of the state still remained entire. It might
refuse to lend civil support to the church, because
of her adherence to presbyterianism, and might
reserve its countenance and aid for a prelatic church,
should it be able to find one within the kingdom.
But beyond this the state could not go without
assuming the attitude and the arms of persecution.
Keeping these general considerations in mind, it will
at once be seen how vital was the struggle to which
the case of Montgomery gave rise—and how direct is
its bearing on the great controversy of the present
times.
It is not improbable the remark of James Melville
was well founded, that there was popery as well as
Erastianism at the back of this obstinate purpose of
restoring prelacy. “The great gydar wharof the
Due of Lennox, by Guisian counsall, and direction,”
says Melville, “ nocht daring put at religion plean-
lie, pressit the restoring of the esteat of Bischopes.”i6
Certain it is that in Scotland prelacy has ever ap-
peared hand in hand both with popery and arbi-
trary power.
Montgomery, whose name, in connexion with
this memorable transaction, has gained so unenvi-
able a notoriety in Scotch ecclesiastical history,
appears to have been like most tools, weak, vain,
and unprincipled; wanting either the conscience to
refuse the bribe, or the sense to anticipate the con-
sequences of accepting it; but abounding in that
ambition and self-complacency which the dazzling
offer of a mitre was so certain to allure.
Having accepted the archbishopric pleno jurc
nrincipis, and in direct contravention of the laws
and authority of that church to which he had
solemnly vowed obedience, he was straightway
summoned to the bar of the Assembly. The reader
will not fail to be struck with the exact parallelism,
in every essential particular, between this case and
that of the Youngs and Edwardses of our own

times. The Assembly foreseeing the manifold evils
and dangers that must arise from a conflict with the
civil authority, employed every means in its power,
on the one hand, to dissuade Montgomery from
committing himself to so reckless and rebellious a
course; and on the other, to satisfy the king and his
council that, should he persist, they had no choice
but to put the discipline of the church in force
against him. The detail of their proceedings, as
given in Calderwood,ale sufficiently shows how little
there was in the conduct of the men of those days,
of that heat and rashness which ignorant and pre-
j udiced opponents have inj uriously imputed to them.
The Assembly prohibited him from further meddling
with the archbishopric, ordained him to abide in his
charge at Stirling, and remitted to the presbytery
of the bounds to proceed farther against him if
necessary, and to report their diligence to the
Synod of Lothian. Montgomery, persisting in his
unlawful purpose, his presbytery, in obedience to the
orders of the Assembly, took immediate measures
to prevent it; and, having referred the case, as di-
rected, to the Synod of Lothian, that court was
charged by a messenger at Arms, at the instance
of Montgomery, to desist from further prosecuting
it, and was summoned, moreover, to appear before
the privy council to answer for their conduct in at-
tempting to stay the execution of the king’s order,
appointing him to the forbidden office. The Synod
immediately adopted a resolution, declining the privy
council’s jurisdiction as in a matter foreign to their
province. Having appointed certain of their mem-
bers to appear and respectfully to intimate this
declinature, John Dury, an eminent minister of
that day, signified in their name that should Mont-
gomery proceed further, they should feel themselves
bound to subject him to the highest censures of the
church. “ \Ve will not suffer you,” said the king,
then a youth of but sixteen years of age, and utter-
ing no doubt the sentiments his creatures had put
into his mouth. “We must obey God rather than
man,” replied Dury, “ and pray God to remove evil
company from about you. The welfare of the
Kirk is your welfare: the more sharply vice be
rebuked the better for you.” The king was then at
Stirling, where Montgomery resided, and to make
.it manifest how little they were daunted by the
threatenings of the court, they summoned the
delinquent, before they left the town, to appear and
answer for his conduct at the approaching General
- ssembly.
At this Assembly, accordingly, which met at St
Andrews in the month of April, 1582, a letter was
handed in from his majesty, requiring that they
it Melville's Diary, p. 118.
* Vol. UL, pp. 577—579, \Vodrow edition.




xxxviii
HISTORICAL INTR OD U CTION TO



should proceed no further in h/Iontgomery’s case.
To this, an answer was immediately returned, that
they would handle nothing belonging to the civil
power, but would act in the matter on their re-
sponsibility to God. This method having failed to
deter the Assembly from its duty, at more violent
course was adopted. Scarcely had the case been
entered on when a messenger at Arms appeared,
and, “by virtue of the king’s letters, delivered by
the lords of secret council and session, discharged
the moderator and his assessors, the brethren of the
Assembly, to direct any citation against Mr Robert
Montgomery to excommunicate, slander, or trouble
him in his ministry, for aspiring to the bishopric of
Glasgow; or for calling or pursuing of his brethren
for the same, or for any promise made thereanent,
or any other thing depending thereupon in time
bygone, under the pains of rebellion and putting
them to the horn. Certifying them if thev fail, he
will denounce them our sovereign lord’s rebels, and
put them to his Highness’ horn.”*
Here then the civil and spiritual authorities were
in direct collision. Which was to give way? An
eminent authority, in the present Residuary Estab-
lishment, publicly declared that, in all cases of the
kind, the church, like the goat which was met by
another of its kind upon the centre of a narrow
plank that spanned a yawning chasm among the
mountains, must “ bow down and suffer the state
to go over.”]L In the same spirit, another authority
of the same school, the era—chancellor Brougham,
gave it as his opinion that the church, as being
“the weaker party must go to the wall.” Our
forefathers thought otherwise, because they believed
the word of God had given a different decision.
They claimed no jurisdiction over the revenues of
the archbishopric; but as regarded the arehiepisco-
pal oflice they had no doubt at all that they were
entitled and bound to decide upon its lawfulness
according to the word of God. And what can be
more manifestly a matter spiritual, than the deter-
mination of the question: “IVhat offices hath Christ
instituted in His church? Vvithout a moment's
hesitation, and treating the interdict with the same
indifference which similar attempts to arrest the
church’s discipline have met with in our own times,
the Assembly proceeded with Montgomery’s trial.
The main charges on which he was arraigned were
exactly those which formed the grounds of the libel
against the Strathbogie ministers in 1841; viz., his
contumacy in disregarding the sentence of suspension
previously pronounced upon him, and exercising
the ministry notwithstanding and his bringing in


the arm of the civil power to overthrow the dis—
cipline of the Kirk! Being convicted of these
offences he was found “ worthie to be deprived, in
all time coming, of the ministry, and that the sen-
tence of excommunication should strike upon him,
except he prevented it by repentance.”* The firmness
of the Assembly seemed to shake Montgomery from
his purpose. He appeared at the bar and withdrew
his appeal to the civil power, and entreated that
some conference might be held with him before any
further step was taken. The Assembly with all
lenity and tenderness agreed to his request. The
result was that he came forward, and publicly, and
humbly, in face of the Assembly, confessed himself
guilty of the offences laid to his charge, sought for-
giveness, and promised solemnly, as in the sight of
God, to abandon the archbishopric and to accept
of no oflice in the church without the advice and
consent of the General Assembly.
In these circumstances the Assembly delayed pro-
nouncing sentence against him; but having little
confidence in his steadfastness or integrity, they en-
joined the presbytery of Glasgow to watch his pro-
ceedings, to report immediately to the Presbytery of
Edinburgh any attempt he might make to intrude
himself into the prelatic oflice, giving, at the same
time, authority to the latter presbytery, in case he
should violate his promise, to exeommunicate him
at once. It soon appeared how needful was this
caution.
been dissolved, when, impelled by his own avarice,
and by the solicitations of Lennox, the poor hire-
ling, Montgomery, broke through all his solemn‘
engagements, and resumed his purpose of intruding
himself into the forbidden ofiice. The presbytery
of Glasgow, in prosecution of the trust committed
to them, immediately took up the case. The faith-
less delinquent, and his powerful supporters, vainly
thought to frighten those faithful men from their
duty. \Vith this view, and at their instigation, the
provost of the city, accompanied by certain others
of the local authorities, and by a multitude of their
followers, entered the presbytery at the very moment
when they were preparing to take the necessary
steps for informing the presbytery of Edinburgh of
Montgomery’s treachery. These intruders having
rudely and insolently required the presbytery to
desist, proceeded further to assault Mr John Howi-
son, the moderator, with personal violence. For
simply and civilly uttering his defence, he was, like
the apostle Paul, smitten upon the mouth, and that
with such brutal force as to dash out one of his teeth.
N or were his assailants satisfied till they had drag-
ged him from his chair, and thrown him into the
* Calderwood, Vol. 111., p. 60"), \Vodrow edition.

Scarcely had the meeting of Assembly '

ct‘)
* Calderwood, Vol. III., p. 601, \Vodrow edition.
1‘ The Rev. Dr M‘Leod, of Glasgow-speech in the pres- :
bytery of Glasgow.
._ A ___.___ _ _—.4..A ..*_4 .44 -‘.________i _.A____ 7 _
l
THE SCOTS \VORTHIES.
xxxix





common prison. Nothing daunted, even by this
gross outrage, the presbytery continued its sitting;
chose a new moderator, and completed the business
in which they were engaged; found Montgomery
guilty of violating his engagements to the Assembly,
and transmitted intimation of the fact immediately
to the presbytery ofEdinburgh. \Vith the charac-
teristic vigour and decision of our presbyterian
forefathers, the sentence of excommunication against
Montgomery was, accordingly, forthwith pronounced
as the Assembly had ordained; the church thus
evincing her determination to suffer no interference
with her own internal government, and to accept
any amount of loss or suffering, rather than com-
promise her spiritual independence. But if the
church was resolute on her side, the court seemed
equally bent on carrying out its selfish and tyranni-
cal schemes. In our own times, the court of session
suspended and pronounced null and void the sen-
tences of suspension and deposition given forth by
the Assembly against the ministers’ of Strathbogie.
In this procedure they had their appropriate pre-
cedent in the act of the privy council of 1582, which
by public proclamation condemned and overturned
the sentence of the church against Robert Mont-
gomery. Matters had now come to extremity.
Sentences in direct opposition to each other had
issued. from the respective authorities of the church
and of the state. On one side there was truth; on the
other there was power. At a moment so critical,
when, for the church to yield would have been to
sanction the grossest Erastianism, and to hand over
her spiritual authority to the civil power, it was
w ell that she enjoyed the counsel and guidance of
such a man as Andrew Melville. \Vith that true
greatness that rises and expands with the difficulties
and dangers to be confronted, he summoned an
extraordinary meeting of Assembly, and in the
sermon, with which as moderator he opened it, his
trumpet truly gave no uncertain sound. “He
inveighed against those who had introduced the
bludie gullie (as he termed it) of absolute power
into the country, and who sought to erect a new
popedom in the person of the prince. The pope,
he said, was the first who united the ecclesiastical
supremacy to the civil, which he had wrested from
the emperor. Since the Reformation he had, with
the view of suppressing the gospel, delegated his
absolute power to the emperor and the kings of
Spain and France; and from France, where it had
produced the horrors of St Bartholomew, it was
brought into this country. He mentioned the de-
sign then on foot of resigning the king's authority
into the hands of the queen, which had been devised
eight years ago, when he was in France, and was
expressed in prints containing the figure ofa queen

\
l
l
l
with a child kneeling at her feet and craving her
blessing.fie And he named bishops Beaton and Lesley
as the chief managers of that affair: ‘This will be
called meddling with civil affairs,’ exclaimed he, ‘but
these things tend to the wreck of religion, and there-
fore I rehearse them.‘ ”1'
In a tone of similar energy and decision, the
Assembly prepared a remonstrance to the king and
council, representing in clear and emphatic lan-
guage the outrage that had been done by the civil
power in Montgomery’s case, to the constitution of
the church, and to the first principles of religious
liberty. “Your majesty,” said they, “by device
of some counsellors, is caused to take upon your
Grace that spiritual power and authority which pro-
perly belongeth to Christ, as only King and Head
of his Church. The ministry and execution thereof
is only given to such as bear office in the ecclesias-
tical government of the same. So that in your
Grace’s person some men press to erect a new
popedom, as though your majesty could not be free
king and head of this commonwealth, unless as well
the spiritual as the temporal sword be put in your
Grace’s hand: unless Christ be bereft of his author-
ity, and the two jurisdictions confounded which God
hath divided.”I Having followed up this pointed
and spirited statement of their general ground of
complaint, with an enumeration of the several specific
grievances arising out of it, by which the church’s
rights and liberties had been invaded, commis-
sioners were appointed to lay this important
document before the king. It were to deprive the
reader of a high gratification, to withhold the quaint
and pithy record James Melville has preserved
of the interview between these commissioners and
the court: no modern description can compare in
graphic force with the narrative of this faithful eye-
witness of the whole memorable scene. “ Newes,”
says he, “were sparpelit athort the countrey,
that the ministers war all to be thair massacred:
quhilk moved me to repear to Perthe with diligence,
to tak part with my uncle and father in Chryst.
Coming ther, Sir James Melvill of Ha-hill schawes
me how evill my uncle and I was thought of at
court. because of our sermons in St Androis, the
tyme of the fast, and our doings and sayings at
Asse1nblies,—and counsallit to depart af the toun,
quhilk I schew Mr Andre, and willit so to do,—
but in vean, for ‘I thank God,’ says he, ‘I am
nocht fieyed nor feible spirited in the cause and
* That is, representing the youthful king James kneeling
before his mother queen Mary, at this time a prisoner in
England, and asking her forgiveness for taking possession of
her throne.
'i' M‘Crie‘s Life of Melville, Vol. I., p. l8].
: Calderwood, vol. III, p. 6'28.



xl
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO


message of Chryst. Com what God pleases to send,
our commission sall be discliargit.
“ At last the commissioners of the Kirk war callit,
wha coming in befor the king and his counsall, de-
lyverit their grietfes and articles, quhilk being read,
Captain James (Stewart) beginnes to threttin, with
thrawin brow, and bosting language. ‘ \Vhat,’
says he, ‘wha dar subscryve thir treasonable
articles,’ &c. Mr Andro answers, ‘IVe dar and
wil subscryve them and gif our lyves in the cause!’
And withal starts to and taks the pen fra the
clerk, and subscryves and calles to the rest of the
breithring with couragius speitches,—wha all cam
and subscryvit. This bauldness when the Duo and
Captain perceavit, they gatherit thairon that the
Kirk haid a bak, and became affrayit: and efter
sum calmer language, dismissit them in peace,
whan everie ane supposed they sould haiff bein
hardliar delt withall.”
How true it is that the wicked flee when no man
pursueth! Iniquity is timid, even when surrounded
with all the insignia and instruments of power; in~
nocence is bold though unprotected and alone. It
was the mere suggestion of the favourites’ own fears
that the commissioners must be backed by some
force ready at hand to support their claims. They
had and desired to have no other backing than what
was derived from the goodness of their cause, and
the blessing of God. Their weapons were not car-
nal but spiritual, and because they employed these
alone, therefore were they made mighty through
God to the pulling down of strongholds. These
-- weak things of the world,” humble ministers of
Christ, confounded and broke up the plots and
power of princes by their faith and firmness in the
cause of Christ. The point which Montgomery’s
case raised was a vital question. It was no affair
of outposts; but the main battle which Melville and
his colleagues had in that case been fighting. That
which was at stake in the conflict was not some
petty outwork—it was the citadel itself. To have
yielded would have been to surrender; not alone
their influence; not alone their character; not alone
their usefulness; but along with all these it would
have been to surrender their very existence as a
free church of Christ. The question resolved it-
self substantially into this :—-Is the church a human
or a divine institution? If it be of earthly origin;
if it be what one party in our more recent contro—
versy have called it, the “ creature of the state ;” if
it stand upon the vulgar level of a common munici- ‘
pal corporation, then, doubtless, all those preten-
sions to intrinsicurisdiction and authority, for which
the founders and fathers of the church of Scotland
so zealously contended, would have been alike un-
founded and dangerous. No sphere can have more

than one centre. If the church be nothing more
than a portion of the state, as h/Iorton and king
2 James, in the sixteenth century, the Charleses in
the seventeenth, and the law courts and legislature
of the nineteenth would insist on making it, then
unquestionably the state must be its governor. Its
rights, privileges, and functions, must be defined by
the state’s will, and controlled by the state’s power.
But, on the other hand,‘ if the church, as the
Scotch Reformers and all their genuine successors
have uniformly contended, and as the constitution
and standards of their church, following the Scrip-
tures of truth, unequivocally proclaim, be not of this
world; if it be an institution whose existence, offices,
and laws, have all emanated directly from heaven,


then this Jerusalem which is from above is free, and
no secular power may lawfully bring her into bon-
dage. As a divine society, founded and upheld by
the Lord Jesus Christ, deriving its whole govern-
ment, together with all the privileges that govern-
ment is designed to dispense, and all the rights it
is intended to guard, exclusively from Him; the
church, as to all matters spiritual, is complete in
Christ. In all ecclesiastical affairs—affairs; that is,
which natively and inherently belong to her pro-
vince as a church of Christ—she is responsible to
Him alone. N ot only is she not bound to take;
she is not at liberty to take, any other direc-
tion in those affairs than the will of her sole Head
and King. The church, therefore, has another and
different centre of government from the state, be-
cause she is herself another and a different sphere.
She has her own centre; and that centre is the
Lord of glory, from whom radiates continually the

light which is the church’s guide; the warm and
quickening energy which gives and sustains her life;
the controlling power which determines and regu-
lates her course.
The favourites Lennox and Stewart (earl of
Arran), who had the chief hand in those violent
measures to which the king and council had re-
course, in attempting to break down the constitu-
tional liberties of the church, had, at the same time,
been giving deep and deadly offence, by their
haughtiness and tyranny, to the nobility and lead-
ing persons in the kingdom. Religious liberty is
the grand bulwark of civil freedom. Those who
might have been blind or indifferent to the dangers
of the former were aroused when they found the
latter in danger of being swept away. Nor can
there be a doubt that the energy and resolution
with which the Assembly was seen to assert and
vindicate its rights, in matters spiritual, encouraged
and stimulated the nobles to make a corresponding
effort to rid the country of that civil despotism

which was so rapidly gaining ground. Bv one of

M
THE SC OTS
\VORTHIES. Xli




those sudden and decided movements, characteristic
of that age, and well known in history as the “ Raid
of Ruthven,” the king was forcibly separated from
the obnoxious favourites, and surrounded with a
new administration. ‘Ve advert to the circumstance,
only for the purpose of remarking on it as one of
those events by which “the earth” has often been
made in God’s overruling providence “to help the
woman.” The church’s oppressors were dispossessed
of their influence by this great political movement,
at the very moment when they were likely to have
used it for the purpose of urging the king to some
fresh outrage upon the Assembly, or its ministers.
Those who succeeded them had too much need to
strengthen their own position, to incur the risks of
a collision with the church. The storm was thus
all at once changed into a calm; and Montgomery,
seeing new little prospect of effecting his sordid
design, with his usual suppleness professed his deep
contrition for what he had done, declared his wil—
lingness to submit himself to the discipline of the
church, and his anxiety to be restored to her com-
munion. It will not surprise the reader to learn
that this profession, like all the others he had made
before, was in its turn disregarded with the shame-
less effrontery and perfidy which distinguished his
whole career.
The circumstances in which this wretched person
next appeared on the stage of our ecclesiastical
history must now engage our notice, as belonging
to the last great struggle which preceded the
formal recognition by the state of the church’s
policy and discipline. Hitherto her liberty had
been struck at indirectly; but the time had at length
arrived when it was to be openly and broadly
assailed. By keeping in its own hand the key
of lay patronage, the civil power had dexterously
reserved to itself a means of intruding into the
province of the church, so soon as a convenient
occasion for doing so might be found. The subse-
quent institution of Tulchan prelacy carried this
encroaching spirit a step further, claiming, as thereby
it did, to nominate men not only to offices recognised
by the church, but to offices which the church had
expressly repudiated and condemned. So far, how-
ever, it was by single administrative acts, and these
utterly at variance with constitutional law, that the
state had attempted the subversion of the church’s
freedom. The statute which instituted lay patron-
age, however wrong in principle, did not pretend
to give the patron any right to intermeddle with
the internal government of the church, or even with
the disposal of his presentee. In like manner, Tul-
chan prelacy, though set up flagrantly and outra-
geously in violation of the church’s ratified consti—
tution, was not based on any avowal ofa pretended
right of supremacy in matters spiritual; on the
contrary, the utmost pains were taken, through the
convention of Leith, to secure for it something like
an ecclesiastical sanction. And when that sanction,
even to the very limited and qualified extent to
destitute of all legal competency to do so, was
authoritatively disclaimed and condemned by the
Assembly, the efforts that were still strenuously
made, as in Montgomery’s case, to force the obnox-
ious institution upon the church, were mere acts of
violence for which no ground in law or constitu-
tional authority could be alleged. It was simply
the deed of the robber who founds his claim to the
traveller’s goods, not on any plea of right, but solely
and nakedly on the brute argument of force. These
preliminary contests, however, had paved the way
for an aggression of a different kind. ‘What had
been tried in detail was now to be attempted at
once by the establishment of a complete and whole-
sale usurpation. The interference with the church’s
jurisdiction, which hitherto had been carried on by
a succession of violent acts, was at length to be
imbodied in a principle. The king, as head of the
state, resolved to invest himself with ecclesiastical
as well as civil supremacy; and as the fountain of all
authority, both in spiritual and temporal things, to
realize the charge made in the remonstrance for-
merly quoted, by erecting a “new popedom” in
the person of the sovereign, as if he “ could not be
full king and head of this commonwealth unless as
well the spiritual as temporal sword should be put
into his hands.”
In preparation for the assault that was now about
to be made on the liberties and whole constitution
of the church, Melville had been compelled to quit
the kingdom. In the month of May, 1584, that
parliament assembled which was to be the base in-
strument of carrying the court’s despotic schemes
into execution. The lords of articles, as the select
committee which prepared the business to be brought
before the legislature was then called, were sworn
to secresy. In spite of all the cautions thus taken
to conceal from the church and the country the con-'
spiracy against their common freedom, their design
came to be known. One of the ministers who had
gone in consequence to the palace to remonstrate
with the king was seized at the gate and hurried to
prison. Meanwhile parliament, with a tameness and
subserviency truly miserable, and which strikingly
proved how easily men are induced to sanction any
encroachment, however unjust and injurious, upon
the church of Christ, submitted implicitly to the
wishes of the king and of his haughty and reckless
favourites who had once more regained their former
; place and power. \VithTout opposition the barons

which it had been most irregularly given by a body .


xlii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO






and burgesses of Scotland passed those infamous
statutes by which an entire revolution was made in the
constitution of their country; by which the founda-
tions of religious liberty were completely over-
thrown. The “black acts,” as they were appro-
priately termed, subverted at one blow the whole
fabric of church policy which the founders of the
church of Scotland had reared. They utterly anni-
hilated the church’s spiritual independence, pros-
trating all its powers and functions at the feet of
the civil power. The first of these statutes enacted
that the king and his successors, “ by themselves
and their councils, are, and in time coming shall be,
judges competent to all persons his highness’ sub-
jects of whatever estate, degree, function, or condi-
tion that ever they be, spiritual or temporal, in all
matters wherein they or any of them shall be ap-
prehended, summoned, or charged to answer to sik
things as shall be required of them by our sovereign
lord and his council.” By this act the king was made
head of the church, and invested with a complete
supremacy in all matters and causes spiritual. To
make this supremacy more clear and absolute, an-
other of these statutes “discharged and abolished
all udgments andurisdictions, spiritual or temporal,
which were not approved by his higlmess and his
said three estates convened of parliament;” thus
making the authority of the church, in those mat-
ters which the Lord Jesus Christ hath expressly
committed to her government, to depend entirely
on the allowance or disallowance of the secular
power. The third of these Erastian acts put this
usurped supremacy in force, by impowering the
prelates and certain commissioners appointed by
the king “to put order to all matters and causes
ecclesiastical,”——-t11us at once setting aside the
presbyterian constitution of the church, and dele-
gating to the court’s creatures, authority to rule the
house of God. Once more, one of these acts was so
framed as virtually to suppress all the ecclesiastical
courts, denying them liberty to convene or to discuss
any question, however strictly ecclesiastical, without
the sanction of the crown.
\Vhen these disgraceful statutes were proclaimed
on the twenty-fifth of May, 1584:, at the market»
cross of Edinburgh, certain of the ministers of that
city, with dauntless courage came forward and
boldly met the proclamation with a solemn public
protest, which they took with all the customary
formalities; and having done so, immediately with-
drew into England. The persecution of the church
now went forward with an unsparing and relentless
hand. Adamson, he who ten years before so wit-
tily satirized the system of Tulchan prelacy, now
himself archbishop of St Andrews, and the court’s
chief tool in this determined effort to Erastianize

and enslave the church, framed a bond to be sub-
scribed by all ministers within forty days, whereby
they were required to own the king’s ecclesiastical
supremacy, and to submit to the whole of that
oppressive and unscriptural system which the black
acts established. A number of the ministers sought
safety from the consequences of resisting these
usurpations by following those of their brethren
who had already fled into England. The bond
was generally refused, until Adamson dexterously
introduced into it one of those cunning and ambi-
guous clauses which have been so often employed
in the history of the church of Christ to seduce men
from the path of strict integrity. The phrase which
too many suffered themselves to be blinded by was
this—they were “ to obey” what the bond required
“according to the word of God!”—-as if it were
possible according to the word of God to do what
God’s word condemns. “It was,” remarks James
Melville, “ as if one should say he would obey the
pope and his prelates according to the word of
God.” This pithy observation occurs in an able
and elaborate remonstrance which this worthy man
addressed, from his exile in England, to those
brethren whom this wretched evasion had tempted
into an abandonment of their duty. Some of these,
like Craig and Erskine of Dun, were men of whom
other things might have been expected; “ so difii-
cult is it,” says M‘Crie, “ even for good men to
preserve a strict and inflexible integrity in the
hour of temptation.” The archbishop’s clause will
probably put more than one reader in mind of
the somewhat similar design and effect, in our own
times, of lord Aberdeen’s bill. And, perhaps, the
honest rebukes and faithful warnings of James
Melville may seem hardly less applicable to the
subscribers of the bond of 1584, than to a certain
class of the approvers of the bill of 1843. “ Butit
may be that sum of you,” writes the faithful remon-
strant, “your unhappy complices and counsellors
in this course, thinks, and will say, what neids all
this ado? why are yie sa hat in threatening? the
matter is nocht of so grait weght, &c. Alas! my
breithring, miserable and lamentable experience,
except God of his mercie prevent it, I feir sall
teatche you and the pure Kirk of Scotland what ye
haiff done, and whow grait and sear are the con-
sequent-s that insewes on your fact. For first be
the approving of that act of parliament anent the
king’s supremacy in all causes ecclesiastical or civil,
and na appellation to be maid from him ye haff,
nocht onlie sett upe a new pope, and sa become
traitors to Chryst, and condescendit to the chiefi
error of papistrie whereupon all the rest depends:
quhilk gif it be nocht to deny and refuse Chryst
I knaw nocht what it is sa to do. But, farder, ye




THE SCOTS \VORTHIES.
xliii


haiff in sa doing granted mair to the king than eer
the popes of Rome peaceblie obteined how tyran-
nuslie and ambitiuslie soever they sought the
same.” Having established this by referring to the
fact that the councils of Constance and Basil “ had
decreet in the pope’s face,” that an appeal lay from
the pope to a general council of the church; he
next adverts to their having, by their subscrip-
tion, acquiesced in the assumption that those who,
though it be in a matter ecclesiastical, decline to
submit to the civil power, ought to be branded
and treated as rebels and traitors: an assumption
exactly parallel to that made in our recent contro-
versy by the court of session, and since sanctioned
by the British parliament, and laid down as the
basis of lord Aberdeen’s bill. Melville thus pro-
ceeds to notice the consequences to which that
assumption might fairly lead. "' \Vhat, I pray you,
giff these profest papistes and jesuistes that flockes
ham out of France, Spean, and Italie, and finds
graittur favour and credit in court than all the
ministers, what if they sall challenge you for the
doctrine of justification, frie will, reall presence,
and the rest of the heids of religion; for these, as
chieff matters ecclesiasticall, sall the king and his
counsall be judge to you, and ma appellation be
maid under the pean of treason; what sall then, I
pray you, becom of religion and the professours
thairof? Sall they nocht be either forced to deny
Christ, or maid to disput with the torments apoint-
ed for traitors? And syne this for a clok to be casten
over it. ‘It is nocht for religion but for hie trea-
sone, that sic are sa handlet.’ Do yie nocht heir
espy the craft of the crewall fiend wha dar nocht
in this age of knowledge and light of the gospell
oppose himself against the treuthe, as the scribes
and Pharisees durst not gainstand the doctrine of
Chryst, but seiks, under pretence of lawes and clok of
justice, to mak the godlie and true professours and
preachours to be schamfull spectacles, that thairby
men may be eschamit of the veritie of the evangell:
even as Chryst was put to deathe under the 11am
of sedition and treasone.”
‘Ve shall have occasion to trace more fully the
resemblance between that period and our own
times in a future part of this Essay. Meanwhile,
in thus noticing here, incidentally, some of the
analogies which James Melville’s remonstrance
suggests, many will feel as if these solemn sentences
which follow had been written for the present day.
“IVhat a conscience and mynd sall ye haiff when
yie remember, reid, or heir that wa pronounced
be Chryst upon them be whome sklander and
offence comes! And O! whow many godlie hartes
bathe in Scotland and Eingland, yea, in France and
in all Reformed Kirkes, are crewallie wounded with

this fact of yours, and that nocht Without graitt
cause! For als lang as the haill ministerie stud
constant, there was gud hope of a happie redres of
matters: but now be this fact yie haiff giffen the
devil entres within the walles of Jerusalem to spoil
and destroy all the guid and constant citiziners
thairof, wha will nocht defyll themselves and bow
their knees to Baal.” IVe cannot, indeed, speak of
any Craigs or Erskines of Dun as having in these
latter times left their former associates and their
original church independence principles and gone
over to the Erastians; but still men have done this
of whom better things might have been expected,
nor can it be doubted that the fact of their doing
so effectually put an end to whatever hope might
previously have existed of obtaining a right settle-
ment of that controversy which has ended in the
disruption of the Established church. The responsi-
bility they have thereby incurred is not materially
different from that of those whom Adamson per-
suaded to become bondsmen and to keep their
livings in 1584.
We have more than once had occasion, in this
historic sketch of the contendings of the earlier
“Torthies of the Church of Scotland, to mark the
interposition of Providence, on behalf of them and
their cause, suddenly removing dangers which
threatened their ruin. In 1560, when the queen
regent, supported by the French troops, seemed to
be on the point of crushing the Reformers with the
iron hand of oppression, the English queen all at
once threw herself into the contest, and the dark
cloud melted away. Again, in 1577, when Morton,
at the height of his power, was on the point of
pressing the church to extremity, bent as he was,
at whatever cost on carrying into execution his des-
potic schemes, his influence at the critical moment
was broken up, and his high office taken from him,
and this storm also was thus unexpectedly turned
aside. Once more, when the court favourites, by
whose machinations Morton’s fall had been achieved,
were ready in their turn, in 1582, to have made the
case of Montgomery the occasion of driving the
royal prerogative over the prostrate liberties of the
church, the ‘raid of Ruthven ’ in an instant over-
turned their power. And now, when these proud
and worthless men had succeeded in expelling from
the court, and driving into exile the nobles by whom
the ‘raid of Ruthven’ was contrived, and in re-
covering their former place in the favour and con-
fidence of the king: when they had declared open
war against the liberty of the church by the passing
of the Black Acts, and by enforcing their execution,
had compelled all the more faithful and energetic
defenders of the church's constitution to take
refuge in England, when despotism and intolerance


xliv
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO







appeared to have triumphed over every adversary, ;
the sword and the fetters were again struck out of ‘
Arran’s tyranny ‘
the insulting opprcssor’s hands.
and haughtiness had grown beyond endurance: and
by a sudden and general movement on the part of
both nobles and people, the favourite was finally
expelled from the court, stripped of all his ill-gotten
honour, and reduced to insignificance. This event,
which occurred in 1585, relieved the church from
persecution, and though it by no means restored
her rights, it enabled her to prosecute without
danger the efforts which were necessary to the re-
For some years thereafter
little progress was made,—the king on his side re-
fusing or evading the church’s claims, and she on
the other hand as resolutely resisting all his insidious
and incessant attempts to obtain her consent to any
of those Erastian usurpations which the Black Acts
had made. There were two circumstances which
shortly afterwards occurred that contributed not a
little to promote the settlement which the church
at length obtained. The one was the threatened
popish invasion of 1589, which resulted in the cele-
brated Spanish Armada. In this great crisis the
church took the lead in awakening the country to
an adequate sense of the dangers which menaced
the religion and liberties of the kingdom. An ex—
traordinary meeting of the Assembly was convened:
a deputation was sent to the king who was too little
inclined to move: a bond of allegiance and mutual
defence was framed and signed by men of all ranks
with such ardour and unanimity, that the whole
nation was aroused. The services which the church
rendered on this memorable occasion were so im-
portant and valuable as both to demonstrate and
to increase her influence, and thereby to strengthen
considerably the weight of her subsequent repre-
sentations to the king. The advantage thus gained
was powerfully confirmed by the other circumstance
to which allusion was made above, and which fol—
lowed almost innnediately. In the month of
October of the same year, the king went over to
Norway, where he married the princess of Den-
mark. During his absence, one of the leading
members of the provisional government to which
he intrusted the care of his kingdom, was the cele-
brated Robert Bruce one of the ministers of Edin-
burgh. To his fidelity in this department the king
himself bore the strongest testimony. In a letter
written from the castle of Gronenburgh shortly
before his return to Scotland, his majesty thus
addresses him: “ Good Mr Robert, Besides the
welcome news that by your last letter you sent unto
me, you pointed out so vively therein your honest
covery of her freedom.
meaning to my service, besides the good report I i
have otherwise of your daily travels for that effect, ,

now during my absence, as I think myself beholden,
while I live, never to forget the same.”
Speaking of this period, James Melville in his
diary remarks that the king, “at his departing
apointed Mr Robert Bruce to be in the counsall,
and reconnnendit the estate of his country to him
and the ministerie in speciall, reposing as he
professit, upon him and them above all his nobles.
And indeed he was nocht disappointed, for of the
favour of God thair was never a mair peaceable
and quyet estate of the country nor during that
tyme of the king’s absence: so that whar before or
sin sync, few moneths, yea oukes, were ther with-
out sum slauchter, ther was non sic thing during
that tyme.”
Bruce was not alone in his efforts to promote the
peace and good order ofthe kingdom. The church
as a body was at the utmost pains to cultivate and
cherish sentiments of loyalty towards their absent
sovereign, and of respect for the laws, among the
people at large. And so sensible was the king of
the obligations under which he and the country
had been laid, that shortly after his return, he
openly, in St Giles’ church, Edinburgh, expressed
his thanks to the ministers for their patriotic
exertions in promoting the public welfare. It was
apparently under the influence of similar feelings
he pronounced at a meeting of the General Assem-
bly held some months after his return,‘lL his well-
known panegyric on the church of Scotland. “He
praised God that he was born at such a time, as in
the time of the light of the gospel, and in such a
place, as to be king in such a kirk, the purest kirk
in the world. The kirk of Geneva, continued his
majesty, keepeth Pasche and Yule. What have
they for them? they have no institution. As for
our neighbour kirk in England, their service is an
evil said mass in English: they want nothing of the
mass but the liftings. I charge you my good people,
ministers, doctors, elders, nobles, gentlemen and
barons, to stand to your purity: and I forsooth, as
long as I brook my life, shall maintain the same
against all deadly.”i
The subsequent conduct, and the whole char-
acter and life of king James, render it altogether
impossible to regard these favourable expressions
as indicating anything more than the high esteem
which the church, in the midst of all her difficulties
and contendings, then enjoyed; and the necessity
which, in consequence, his majesty felt himself
under, in his peculiar circumstances, of assuming
a more kindly tone towards her than he was wont
* Bruce's Life, \Vodrow Ed. p. 19.
August, I590.
i M‘Crie's Life of Melville, Vol. I. p. 304.



THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
xlv





or was really inclined to exhibit. The church,
however, naturally availed herself of the opportu-
nity thus presented of pressing for a reversal of the
obnoxious and. oppressive acts of 1584, and for the
ratification of her own scriptural constitution. Her
efforts in this direction were unwearied. At length
in the Assembly which met in May, 1592, certain
articles were drawn up to be urged upon the king,
the very first of which was this, that “the acts of
parliament made, anno 1584, in prejudice of the
kirk’s liberties be annulled, and the discipline pre-
sently in practice ratified.” It will be seen from
these words, that the church never acquiesced in the
Erastian usurpations which the Black Acts made,
but held steadily to her own principles. ‘Vhat she
sought was, simply, that the state should withdraw
those unrighteous and despotic statutes by which
it was attempted forcibly to deprive her of her in-
herent rights and liberties, or violently to obstruct
her in the exercise of them. It may be said, indeed,
that if the church could not in conscience accede
to the terms which the state imposed, she ought
to have relinquished her connexion with the state
altogether; and because she did not adopt this
latter course, notwithstanding of the gross invasion
made on her spiritual urisdiction by the Black Acts,
some have been disposed to argue, that neither
ought the advocates of that jurisdiction in the pre-
sent day, to have withdrawn from the Establishment.
T hose who have recourse to such a plea must be
either strangely ignorant of the history of the times
from which it is borrowed, or so hard pressed for
something to allege in their own vindication, as to
be in too great haste to notice what that history re-
cords. The law of toleration had then no existence.
Even the principles on which that law is founded
were not understood. The church could not then
have escaped one hair’s-breadth further from the ty-
ranny of the Black Acts, by renouncing her connec-
tion with the state. That alone, which according
to the notions of the age, and the circumstances in
which she was placed, she could do, was to refuse
submission to what she considered to be sinful, and
to bear whatever in the form of worldly loss or
suffering she might, in consequence, be called to
endure. Every one who is capable of thinking
must see at a glance how entirely the case is al-
tered now. In times like ours, when the law of tol-
eration secures, to all professing Christians, liberty
to worship God according to their conscience, and
when accordingly the alternative exists,—an alter-
native totally unknown to the church in the reign
of James VI.—of renouncing her state alliance,
and thereby of escaping from the Erastian control
which the state was resolved to exercise; to have

necessity involved either dishonesty to the state, or
disloyalty to Christ.
The articles which the church drew up at the
Assembly, in May 1592, were in the following
month of June brought under the consideration of
Parliament. The statute which thereupon was
enacted, entitled “Ratification of the liberty of the
true kirk” &c., has always been regarded as one
so important and fundamental as to have been
commonly designated the Charter of the Church of
Scotland. Both on this account, and because the
passing of it concluded the period of what has been
described as the church’s second conflict, it will be
necessary to notice somewhat minutely the leading
points which it secured. To what extent did this
celebrated act sanction those principles of spiritual
independence, and that ecclesiastical constitution
which the church had laid down in the Second
Book of Discipline? This question is both inter-
esting in itself, and bears a very close relation to the
controversy which terminated in the late Disruption
of the National Church. In the course of that re-
cent controversy it was the common allegation of
the anti-independence party, that, nothing what»
ever of the Second Book of Discipline was ratified
by the act 1592, excepting only those specific por-
tions of it which that statute in terms imbodied.
IV ere this a correct statement of the case, there
would be no propriety in setting up the act in
question as the honourable landing place on which
the church was at length enabled to plant her foot,
after a two and thirty years’ contest for a scriptural
system of ecclesiastical policy and discipline. But
how does this matter really stand? Those who
hold the low view, above noticed, of the act 1592,
have been accustomed to talk of the doctrine laid
down in the Second Book of Discipline as to the
inherent rights of the church and the functions of
its several courts, as nothing more than an exposi-
tion of what the church claimed; and to argue that
every part of that claim is to be held as having
been rejected by the legislature, excepting only so
much of it as is expressly recited in the act of rati-
fication. Indeed it has long been a favourite way
of speaking with the moderate party in the Church
of Scotland, that, it is only in acts of parliament
the powers and prerogatives of the church were to
be found: that whatever could not be pointed out
in the civil statute, was to be regarded as having
no existence in the church. Now even, a priori,
one might surely venture to regard it as a far more
legitimate and common-sense principle of interpre-
tation, to say the very opposite; viz., that whatever
rights the church has assumed in her avowed stan--
dards, are to be held as having the consent of the
continued in that alliance now, would have of , state, excepting in so far as the civil statute which



xlvi
IIISTOB [CAL INTRODUCTION TO





refers to these standards expressly disallows them.
In regard to the standard in question, it is easily
demonstrable, that this is the only principle of in-
terpretation that can be followed consistently either
with right reason or with undoubted facts. If the
ratification of the Second Book of Discipline were
according to the other view, limited to the passages
actually introduced into the statute, 1592, that
statute, instead of ratifying the liberty of the true
kirk, would actually have denuded her of the very
essentials of a church of Christ. The fourth chap-
ter, for example, of the Second Book of Discipline
defines the power of pastors; asserts it to be the right
of their office to preach the word, to administer
the sacraments; to solemnize marriage. Not one
of these sections has a place in the act 1592, and
therefore, according to the theory we are contro-
verting, they would fall to be accounted as claims
made indeed by the church, but rejected by the
civil power!
That some things in the Second Book of Discip-
line were not ratified is true; but then we are to
ascertain what these are, not from the silence of
the statute, but from some express reference to
them in the statute; a reference by which the
things in question are disallowed. The only an-
swer that can be made to a statement so plain and
conclusive is this,—1Vhy then are certain things
which are allowed introduced into the statute?
Does not this imply that these have an authority
allowed to them which is not granted to the others?
There appears at first sight some plausibility in this
consideration,which, however, a closer examination
easily sets aside. In the first place, let it not be
forgotten, as already shown, that according to this
objection, authority will have been denied by the
act 1592, to the pastors, to preach the gospel and
administer the sacraments, which is surely a suffi-
cient reason for at least suspecting that there must
be a. flaw in it somewhere. But in the second place,
there was a very intelligible and obvious reason
for expressly specifying some things, as ratified by
the act, while others were merely included under
some general principle which the act recognised.
It is most instructive, on this point, to examine
the passages of the Book of Discipline introduced
into the act in the light of those events which the
immediately preceding part of this historical sketch
has narrated. These passages refer to the power
and functions of the different courts of the church.
By the Black Acts, passed eight years before, it
will be remembered that a direct assault had been
committed upon the most sacred rights and pre-
rogatives of the church.
By these acts the supremacy of the king and his courts, in matters spiritual as well as temporal, had 1

been declared. The church courts were liable
to be treated as unlawful conventions; and the
power of admitting and depriving ministers was
vested in the bishops or commissioners of the king.
Now, to remove the fetters which had thus been
despotically fastened on the struggling church, it
was not enough that the act, 1592, should “ cass
and annull,” as it did, “all and whatsoever acts,
laws, and statutes made at any time before the day
and date hereof, against the liberty of the true
Kirk, jurisdiction and discipline thereof, as the same
is used and exercised within this realm.” This
might be a sufiicient security as to most things, and
especially as to all those rights which, without in-
terruption, had been used and exercised within this
realm. But it was not sufficient to give the church
an adequate security that those special restraints
which the Black Acts had imposed were to be
entirely removed. The church would not and could
not be satisfied unless the gross violation of her
rights and liberties, perpetrated by the Black Acts,
were prevented in time to come, by a clear and
unambiguous ratification of the very rights and
liberties which these acts had trampled on. And
hence the introduction into the statute, 1592, of
those portions of the Second Book of Discipline to
which reference has been made. And the true
light in which that statute is to be regarded is this,
that while it condescends on certain important par-
ticulars, as to which past events had made the
church peculiarly jealous and sensitive, it at the
same time recognised and sanctioned the church
as existing according to her own constitution,
established by her own authority, and the jurisdic-
tion and discipline she had been accustomed to use
and exercise. And, therefore, it follows of neces-
sity, that her whole internal government and policy,
as then subsisting in the Second Book of Discipline
and Acts of Assembly, must have been acknowledged
and ratified by the act, 1592, excepting in so far as
any express provisions to the contrary are found in
the act itself. It seems, therefore, as clear as noon-
day, that the spiritual independence of the church
of Scotland—her entire and unrestricted freedom
‘ in all matters ecclesiastical, so broadly and une-
quivocally asserted in her practice and in her then
subsisting standards—is to be held as having been
distinctly owned and confirmed by the settlement
of 1592.
It 1s true that under this settlement the obnox-
ious law of patronage was still maintained. Pres-
byteries were “bound and astricted to receive
and admit whatsoever qualified minister presented
by his majesty or laic patrons.” On this clause,
indeed, the civil courts, in the recent controversy,
mainly rested that right of interference and coercion



THE SCOTS “"ORTHIES.
xlvii


which they have at length made good at the expense
of the total subversion of the ancient constitution
of the Established church. Had the clause in
question been so understood by our forefathers, the
act, 1592, would have been regarded, not as the
reparation of a wrong, but as the repetition of a
deadly injury. That act, instead of annulling the
royal supremacy, would, on such a construction have
been in fact confirming it. The astricting clause
was read in 1592, and from that remote period
down till 1838, in conjunction with the whole scope
and spirit of the act in which it occurs, and with
the other acts in which the independent urisdiction
of the church was so explicitly recognised; and, so
read, it never once occurred to either civil or
ecclesiastical courts, during these two centuries and
a half, that it could by possibility he meant to bear
the interpretation it has recently received. Pres-
byteries were bound to admit qualified presentees,
but it was “ according to the discipline of the Kirk.”
To affirm that she was not to be the judge of what
her own discipline really was, would. be to deny to
her that very liberty which it was the express
object of the act, 1592, to ratify and confirm.
Moreover, that act had specifically recognised the
admission or collation of ministers to be entirely
within the church’s province, describing it as a
“privilege which God has given to the spiritual
officebearers of his Kirk.” Further, the act revived
and restored to its full force, the act, 1567, formerly
noticed, by which “ the examination and admission
of ministers” was declared to be “only in the
power of the Kirk;” and which, in addition,
provided, that if a presentee were refused by the
inferior church tribunals, the patron might “appeal
to the General Assembly of the whole realm, by
whom the cause being decided shall take end as
they decern and declare.” The church’s freedom,
therefore, even under the astricting clause, to re-
fuse admission to any presentee whom she held to
be, “according to the discipline of the Kirk,” dis-
qualified, was unequivocally acknowledged. Nay,
even if in the exercise of her intrinsic power “ to
put order to all matters and causes ecclesiastical”
—-a power which the act, 1592, in terms allowed
—she should go so far as to refuse collation to a
minister whom she admitted, in her own sense of
the term, to be “ qualified,” her refusal, according
to the settlement of 1592, subjected her to no
interference on the part of the civil power. The
courts of civil law might indeed, in such a case,
interpose; but only to the effect of disposing of the
benefice. “Providing always,” says the statute,
1592, c. 117, “in case the presbytery refuses to
admit any qualified minister, presented to them by
the patron, it shall be lawful to the patron to

retain the whole fruits of the benefice in his own
hands.”
The light in which the church regarded the
settlement of 1592, and the importance of those
securities which it provided, are thus described by
Dr lVI‘Crie. “The church of Scotland did not
regard the present or any other parliamentary
grant as the basis of her religious constitution.
This had been already laid down from Scripture
in her Books of Discipline. For all her internal
administration she pleaded and rested upon higher
grounds than either regal or parliamentary author-
ity. \Vhat she now obtained was a legal recogni-
tion of those powers which she had long claimed as
belonging to her by Scripture institution and the
gift of her Divine Head. She had now a right in
foro poli ct soli, by human as well as divine law,
to hold her assemblies for worship and discipline,
and to transact all the business competent to her as
an ecclesiastical society, without being liable to any
challenge for this, and without being exposed to
any external interruption or hinderance whatever,
either from individuals or from the executive gov-
.ernment.” *9 ‘f * * “Melville,” he continues,
“must have been highly gratified with this act of
the legislature. He had now procured the sanction
of the state, as well as the church, to a form of
ecclesiastical polity which he regarded as agreeable
to the Scripture pattern and eminently conducive
to the spiritual and temporal welfare of the nation.
Principles, for the maintenance of which he had
often been branded as seditious and a traitor, were
now not merely recognised as innocent and lawful,
but pronounced ‘most just, good, and godly,’ by the
highest authority in the land. It was the triumph
of the cause which had cost him so much labour and
anxiety during eighteen years.We
The limits of this Essay obviously render it im-
possible to prosecute with the comparative fulness,
hitherto maintained, the long remainder of that
interesting and eventful history in which so many
of the Scottish \Vorthies witnessed and suffered.
For the object we have in view, a narrative, briefer
and more concise, will now suffice. \Vithin the
two important periods already passed under re-
view, were completely developed the grand princi-
ples which it is our design to illustrate, and which
constitute the substance of that testimony so reso-
lutely maintained by our forefathers, and recently
renewed and confirmed by the Free Church of
Scotland. That, “God alone is Lord of the con-
science, and hath left it free from the doctrines and
commandments of men which are in anything con-
trary to His word, or beside it, in matters of faith
)I‘Cric’s Life of Melville, Vol. I., pp. 321-324.



iii xlviii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO
'


and worship ;”* this was the sum and essence of
their testimony and of ours. On this broad and
immovable foundation did the Reformers struggle
to rear the spiritual liberties both of the individual
members and of the collective body of the church
of Christ, in their native land. By the faithful and
resolute application of this fundamental principle
they first rescued the church from the doctrinal
heresies, the gross superstitions, and the degrading
tyranny of the church of Rome,—and they next,
by the same means, resisted the Erastianism of the
civil power. In every question, whether of doctrine
or of discipline, their appeal was exclusively
to the word of God; and that word, as revealing
the law of the Lord Jesus Christ, the church’s only
Head and King, was the only authority which in all
matters and causes ecclesiastical they could ac-
knowledge or obey. And surely no one can read
the record of those painful and arduous conflicts in
which, from the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton,
till the year 1592, a period of twice thirty-two
years, they held up the banner which had been
given them to be displayed because of truth, with-
out venerating their holy zeal and unflinching_
steadfastness, and admiring the grace of God
It is true, as has been already hinted, that even
in that important settlement, the obtaining of which,
in 1592, we have characterized as the successful
issue of an arduous and protracted contest, there
were considerable defects. The continuance of
the law of patronage was noticed as one of these;
another was the provision by which, while the
right of Assemblies to meet once a—year at least, or
oftencr pro re nafci, was fully ratified; the precise
time and place of meeting was to be fixed by his
majesty or his commissioners, the Assembly being
empowered to name the time and place in case of
their absence. As Dr M‘Crie remarks, “ So long
as the court was disposed to respect the law, and
to allow the church to meet annually in General
Assembly, the settling of the particular time and
place of meeting was of minor importance, and the
arrangement might be regarded as an accommo-
dation to the ideas that then generally prevailed
as to all public conventions.”1' But on the suppo-
sition that the court was or should become
hostile to the church’s spiritual freedom, it was not
difficult to see how mischievously such a provision
might be employed. In point of fact, this seem-
ingly innocent assumption came afterwards to be
wielded as a most formidable instrument of oppres-
sion. And it is by thus marking the small inlets
through which the church’s adversaries have intro-
* “ Confession of Faith,” Ch. xx. Sect. II.
1' “ M‘Crie’s Life of Melville,” Vol. I. p. 320.

duced their deleterious influence, that we shall best
profit by the great lessons which her history un-
folds. Meanwhile, before advancing from the point
at which we have now arrived, we shall here en-
deavour to set up certain leading landmarks indi-
cative of the course which, in our remaining obser-
vations, it is our purpose to pursue. The period
which, as connected with the contendings and suf-
ferings of the Scots 1V orthies, these observations
have yet to embrace, reaches from 1592 down to
the memorable Revolution of 1688. Twice during
that period were the constitution and liberties of
the presbyterian church of Scotland overturned,
and in both cases the triumph of the oppressor
lasted exactly twenty-eight years. From 1610 till
1638, and again from 1660 till 1688, presbytery
and the principles of church independence, in mat-
ters spiritual, were put under the ban of the civil
power ; and prelacy and Erastianism were, in their
stead, established by law. It is most interesting
and instructive to observe the means by which
these results were effected. The process was alto-
gether different in the one instance from what it
was in the other. And accordingly, while there is
a strong and decided resemblance between the two
periods of the ascendency of prelatic and Erastian
tyranny,-—there is a very striking contrast between
the periods by which these were respectively pre—
ceded. The years which elapsed from 1592 till
1610 were years of busy, crafty, and cruel tempta-
tion—a season of incessant and relentless attack
upon the church’s steadfastness and integrity. The
years on the other hand which preceded the second
prelatic and Erastian triumph,——those which inter-
vened between the memorable Glasgow Assembly
of 1638, and the restoration of Charles II. in 1660,
were a time of reviving and refreshing from the
presence of the Lord. It was the time of the Second
Reformation, a time when the few remaining fetters
which the First Reformation failed to remove, which
the settlement of 1592 still left to encumber the
church’s movements, were struck from her limbs,
and when she walked forth over the length and
breadth of the land, in the full and glorious liberty
wherewith Christ had made her free.
To those who contemplate the periods now
alluded to with a careless or unspiritual eye, they
may seem like the chance and chequered incidents
of an aimless dream. To such observers it may
appear as if these ups and downs in the church’s
history, these alternatives of progress and retro-
gression, of declension and reformation, of triumph
and trial, were altogether devoid of purpose and of
plan; and as if they taught no other lesson than this
comfortless one, that there is nothing to be expected
here but instability and change. But the thought-






THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
xlix


ful Christian does not need to be told that there is
a divine philosophy in all the shifting and varied
incidents to which we have referred: a philosophy
which, had we the skill to understand it, would
pour a flood of light upon them all. The reflec-
tions on this subject, however, which we design to
offer, it will be proper to reserve for a future stage
of this Essay. IVhen the naked outline, now briefly
sketched, shall have been filled up and rendered
more intelligible by the recital of some of the lead-
ing events which it includes, we shall be in a better
position to perceive and estimate the principle of
that wise, and righteous, and gracious Providence
by which it is pervaded.
It has been already remarked, that the entire
interval from 1592 till 1610 was a time of cunning
and cruel temptation to the church of Scotland.
Scarcely had the ratification of her constitution and
liberties been conceded, than the bad faith of the
king began to appear. For a few years, indeed, the
commotions which the popish faction excited, and the
dissatisfaction which the king’s too evident leaning to
that party produced throughout the kingdom, kept
him too busy, and too much occupied in clearing
himself to leave him much leisure to prosecute his
despotic designs against the freedom of the church.
But there can be no doubt that the promptitude
and zeal which the church discovered, in arousing
the country against the machinations of his popish
favourites, was tending to deepen the malignity with
which he regarded an institution which was the one
grand obstacle to his selfish and tyrannical schemes.
It was not likely that a mind like his, so little and so
ungenerous, would soon forget or forgive the high-
toned faithfulness of that memorable address, which
his majesty’s tergiversation on the subject of the
return of the popish conspirators drew forth from
Andrew Melville. The address in question was
delivered to the king in his palace at Falkland, in
the year 1596. The commissioners of the General
ssembly, accompanied by some patriotic gentlemen
of the county of Fife, had waited on him to remon-
strate against the injurious and dangerous course
which the king’s council were following in reference
to the popish lords. They were admitted to a
private interview ; and, as had been previously
arranged, James Melville, a man remarkable for his
mildness and courtesy, had been selected to speak
to the king on a subject which all knew was both
of a delicate, and to royal ears, distasteful kind.
But his gentle spirit was no fit instrument for such
a duty. The king, with his usual impatience and
haughtiness, interrupted him ere he had well begun;
and before the milder nephew could again resume
the address which had been so rudely and ungra- ,
ciously stopped, the bold and commanding spirit of 1

the uncle had already impelled him to take the
speaker’s place. Advancing towards the king, and
taking hold, in the ardour of his mind, of the sleeve
of his majesty’s robe, and calling him “ God’s silly
vassal,” he proceeded to address him in a tone
which reminds us forcibly of one of the Lord’s
ancient prophets remonstrating with some wilful
king of Israel. “Sir,” said he, “ we will always
humbly reverence your majesty in public; but since
we have this occasion to be with your majesty in
private, and since you are brought in extreme
danger both of your life and crown, and along with
you the country and the church of God are like to
go to wreck for not telling you the truth and giv-
ing you faithful counsel; we must discharge our
duty, or else be traitors both to Christ and you.
Therefore, Sir, as divers times before I have told
you, so new again I must tell you, there are two
kings and two kingdoms in Scotland : there is king
James the head of this commonwealth, and there
is Christ Jesus the King of the church, whose sub-
ject James the Sixth is, and of whose kingdom he
is not a king, nor a lord, nor ahead, but a mem~
ber. Sir, those whom Christ has called and com-
manded to watch over his church, have power and
authority from Him to govern his spiritual king-
dom both jointly and severally, the which no
Christian king or prince should control or discharge,
but fortify and assist, otherwise they are not faith-
ful subjects of Christ and members of his church.
We will yield to you your place and give you all
due obedience; but again I say you are not the
head of the church; you cannot give us that eter-
nal life which we seek for even in this world, and
you cannot deprive us of it. Permit us, then, freely
to meet in the name of Christ, and to attend to the
interests of that church of which you are the chief
member. Sir, when you were in your swaddling
clothes, Christ Jesus reigned freely in this land in
spite of all his enemies; his officers and ministers
convened and assembled for the ruling and welfare
of his church, which was ever for your welfare, de-
fence, and preservation, when these same enemies
were seeking your destruction and cutting ofi‘.
Their Assemblies, since that time, continually have
been terrible to these enemies, and most steadable
to you. And, now, when there is more than ex-
treme necessity for the continuance and discharge of
that duty, will you (drawn to your own destruction
by a devilish and most pernicious counsel) begin to
hinder and dishearten Christ’s servants and your
most faithful subjects, quarrelling them for their con-
vening and the care they have of their duty to Christ
and you, when you should rather command and coun-
tenance them, as the godly kings and emperors dit .”*‘
* treads Life of Melviéle, VOL I. pp. 391, 392.


l HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



This energetic and uncompromising address, de-
livered with all Melville’s characteristic fervour and
commanding power, overawed for the time the
fickle monarch. Truth and genius asserted their
natural supremacy over more adventitious authority.
But as one of the king’s household remarked, “the
church got only words and promises, her enemies
get the deed and efifect.” Like a bent bow, the
instant the pressure of the occasion was withdrawn,
the king returned with a rebound violent in pro-
portion to the constraint to which for the moment
he had yielded, to his natural course of mean and
relentless tyranny.
From this point may be dated the commence~
ment of that systematic and sustained attack on
the church’s integrity, which, carried on by a
succession of measures equally distinguished for
cunning and cruelty, at length succeeded, at the
end of fourteen years, in bringing the church, with
her own suicidal hands, to renounce and destroy
both her presbyterianism and her spiritual inde-
pendence. Towards the close of 1596, under
pretence of punishing some injurious expressions
alleged to have been used in a sermon by one of
the Scottish Worthies, the Rev. David Black,
Melville’s colleague at St Andrews, a determination
was evinced entirely to subvert the liberty of the
pulpit by making ministers amenable, and that in
the first instance, to the privy council for every
pretended offence in the ordinary discharge of their
public duty as preachers of God’s holy word.
The greatest unanimity and energy was exhibited
in meeting this assault. Black gave in a represen-
tation declining prime instant-it? the privy council’s
jurisdiction; and for persisting in this course was
banished from St Andrews into the northern parts
of the kingdom.
Shortly thereafter James, finding that little pro-
gress was made by the method of a direct and
avowed attack on the church’s constitution, began
to employ that king-craft in which he so greatly
prided himself. A publication appeared in his
name containing a number of questions to be re-
solved, which, by bringing under dispute the chief
points in the church’s established government and
policy, were designed to pave the way for the in-
tended innovations. A meeting of the Assembly
and also a convention of estates were summoned to
take these questions into consideration. The call-
ing of this extraordinary meeting of Assembly,
without the concurrence of the church, was itself a
sufficient indication of the fatal use the king was
disposed to make of the claim which had been in-
troduced into the settlement of 1592. The com-
missioners of Assembly took instant alarm; they
immediately opened communication with the pres-

byteries under their inspection, advising them how
to act in this grave emergency. But the king on
his side was not less busy, and the artifice to which
he had recourse may remind the reader of some
not dissimilar manoeuvres in our own times. In
those days when travelling was both difficult and
dangerous, it was not customary for the ministers
in the remoter districts to attend, except in very
limited numbers, the meetings of Assembly. King
James, however, resolved to employ a recruiting
officer to collect and muster his adherents, and,
accordingly, despatched Sir Patrick Murray, one of
the gentlemen of the bedchamber, into Angus and
Aberdeenshire, where, by some singular peculiarity,
the supporters of Erastianism have always abound-
ed. In executing this not very creditable mission,
Murray was at pains, like others who have laboured
more recently in the like vocation, to throw out all
manner of offensive insinuations against the able an d
faithful men who, from their high talents and char-
acter, together with their position in the central
parts of the kingdom, had been called to take a
chief part in the conduct of ecclesiastical affairs.
The usual means by which jealousy and envy are
stirred up in ill-informed or unfriendly minds were
busily and unscrupulously employed. The leaders,
“the popes of Edinburgh,” as Murray trained the
northerns to call them, were charged with rashness,
ambition, indifference to the opinions and interests
of the rural brethren; in a word those very con-
trivances which proved, by God’s grace and bless-
ing, unavailing when put in practice to break up
the convocationists previously to the Assembly of
1843, were but too successful in the hands of king
James’ court emissary in 1597. Accordingly, when
the Assembly met and the struggle at once com-
menced on the question whether that was a lawful
Assembly, Erastianism prevailed, and the afiirmative
was carried by a majority of votes. The kings
questions having been subsequently taken into con-
sideration, court influence was again triumphant;
and the church, thus fairly embarked in a course of
defection, went on step by step, now cajoled with
guile, now coerced with severity, until, as M‘Crie
observes, the Assembly “was at last converted into
a mere organ of the court, employed for register-
ing and giving out royal edicts in ecclesiastical
mattersf’f
Though painful it is highly instructive to trace
the church’s downward career. In doing so we
cannot fail to mark how true it is that all error is
on a slope. The first movement in this direction
departs from the grand level of truth, and carries
the unwary foot over the edge of an inclined plane,
* M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol. II., p. 17.


THE SCOTS IVORTHIES. 11



which, once entered on, has a constant tendency to
hurry the victim on with accelerating rapidity, until,
making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience,
he plunges at last into the depths of a complete
apostasy. The church had already betrayed the
great cause intrusted to her when she consented
to parley with the king on the subject of his insidi-
ous questions at all. The French proverb, true as
it is in the cases to which it makes reference, is
eminently so as regards the Christian church.‘
Femme qui econte et chateau gui parle, tous les deux,
vont se Tendre. To submit to discuss propositions
subversive of her constitution, and that too in an
Assembly not duly convened, was to put herself into
the enemy’s hands. Nor was the crafty sovereign,
who was thus laying snares for her feet, negligent of
the advantage which irresolution and treachery had
given him. Having succeeded in thus getting the
church to open up the settlement which the statute
1592 had made, his next device was to induce the
Assembly to appoint certain of their number to
advise with him on various matters of ecclesiastical
economy and administration. Duped by his plau-
sible assurances the Assembly consented, and in
so doing gave the king, as Calderwood happily
' expresses it, “ a wedge taken out of the church to
rend her with her own forces.” This ecclesiastical
council became ere long the king’s willing'tool,
and enabled him to carry forward his subsequent
encroachments on the church’s constitution and
liberties with the appearance of having her own
concurrence and co-operation. Under the king’s
guidance a petition speedily emanated from this
body, soliciting from parliament that a place and
a voice should be conceded to the church in the
national legislature. Court influence secured a
ready acquiescence in this proposal. In the very
act of granting this request parliament allured the
church on a step farther in the course of defection.
It allowed the church to have representatives in
the legislature, but ordained that these represen-
tatives should be bishops. And, when even the
faithless portion of the Assembly began to take
alarm at the prospect, which was now becoming
every day more clear, of the entire overthrow of
the church’s presbyterian constitution, the king cut
the knot of those difficulties which they attempted
to interpose in the way of his favourite scheme, by
nominating three of the ministers to the bishoprics
of Ross, Caithness, and Aberdeen, without waiting
for the Asssembly’s concurrence at all.
‘Vhile James was thus gradually bending the
church into submission, partly by intrigue and
partly by force, he missed no opportunity of oppress- 1
,ing and harassing the more upright and zealous ‘
ministers whose resolute and unflinching opposition ;

was the chief hinderance in his way. On the occa—
sion of that mysterious occurrence, the Gowrie
conspiracy, an order was issued by the privy
council enjoining all ministers to give thanks for his
majesty’s preservation according to a prescribed
form, and in terms which many fairly believed to be
a dishonest representation of the facts of the case.
Among those who resisted this outrage on the rights
of conscience was Robert Bruce. All his former
services were as nothing compared with the offence
of daring to hold out against the mandate of the
imperious king. The man whom he had acknow-
ledged to be the wisest and best of his subjects was
treated as a felon because he would not become the
servant of man in the things of God. Bruce was
banishedfrom the kingdom, and though afterwards
suffered to return‘ to his native land was never for-
given nor permitted to appear in Edinburgh.
Every year now witnessed some fresh aggression
on the liberties and privileges which the settlement
of 1592 had recognised. The Assembly, as not
being sufficiently prompt and pliant for the king’s
purposes, but on the contrary often discovering a
disposition to return to its duty, was again and
again summarily and arbitrarily interdicted from
holding its appointed meetings, in direct contra-
vention of its constitutionally ratified right to do
so. For protesting against this flagrant wrong in
1605, fourteen of the most distinguished ministers
were immediately cast into prison. Of these, eight
were banished into the remote Highlands, to the
Western, Orkney, and Shetland Isles, while the
remaining six after being immured for fourteen
months in a dungeon were exiled from the kingdom.
It was remarked as a somewhat singular coinci—
dence that at the very time when these zealous men
of God, who had been the most honoured of
Christ’s ministers in the great work of converting
souls, were thus treated as malefactors, Gilbert
Brown, abbot of New Abbey, a notorious emissary
of Rome, was brought forth out of prison with all
honour and entertained at the public expense.
“ Barabbas was released, and the faithful preachers
of the word of God were retained in loathsome
dungeonsmf Among those sufferers was one of
the most eminent of the Scottish ‘Vorthies, the
godly John ‘Velsh, the son-in~law of Knox. From
the place of his confinement, in the castle of Black-
ness, this devoted servant of the Lord, in a letter
to the countess of \Vigton, thus speaks of the cause
for which he was then in bonds. “ IV hat am I
that I should have been first called to be a minister
of Christ these fifteen years, and now, last of all, to
be a sufferer for his cause and kingdom? To
* Simsoni Annal. p. 93. M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, Vol.
IL, p. 123.


lii HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



witness that good confession,—Jesus Christ is the
King of saints, and that his church is a most free
kingdom, not only to convocate, hold, and keep
her Assemblies, but also to judge of all her affairs
in all her meetings. These two points, first, that
Christ is the Head of his church; secondly, that
she is free in her government from all other juris-
dictions except Christ’s, are the special causes of
our imprisonment, being now committed as traitors
for maintaining thereof, and are now waiting to
confirm it with our blood.”
IVhile the king was thus ridding himself with a
high hand of all those who had sufficient courage
and integrity to stand out against his usurpations,
he was, at the same time, steadily carrying forward
his preparations for the total subversion of that
order of things which the act, 1592, had establish-
ed. Having succeeded, on Elizabeth’s death in
1602, to the throne of England, his increased
power and patronage gave him still more ample
means of bribing or intimidating those of the
nobility and gentry who were hostile to his schemes.
And, accordingly, in 1606, he succeeded in in-
ducing parliament to overturn everything which
the settlement of 1592 had recognised. Presbytery
was set aside by the legislative restoration of
bishops to all their ancient dignities and preroga—
tives ; and the church’s spiritual independence was
not less effectually swept away by the recognition
of his majesty as “absolute prince, judge, and
governor over all persons, estates and causes both
spiritual and temporal within his said realm.”
With the view of meeting this shameless attempt
to deprive the church of her chartered constitution,
a formal protest had been prepared. It was sub-
scribed by forty-two faithful men, at the head of
whom was Andrew Melville, who appeared in the
face of that venal parliament, and though prevented
from lodging it in the ordinary form, took care to
make the tenor of it sufliciently well known. This
document set forth respectfully, but firmly, those
noble views of the relation in which the civil power
ought to stand to the church of Christ, which had
been laid down in the Second Book of Discipline,
and sanctioned by the act 1592. It warned the
legislature of the danger to civil as well as to reli—
gious freedom, which the course they were following
involved. vThe church which, for state favour, has
sold its own freedom, will not be slow to betray
the freedom of the commonwealth. “ If one shall
ask,” said the protesters, “ How shall these
bishops be more subject to be carried after the
appetite of an evil prince than the rest of the
estates? The answer and reason is, because they
have their lordship and living, their honour, esti-
mation, profit and commodity of the king. The

king may set them up and cast them down, give
them and take from them, put them in and out at
his pleasure, and, therefore, they must be at his
direction to do what liketh him.” 9* 9* “ If any
succeeding prince please to play the tyrant and
govern all, not by laws, but by his will and pleasure,
signified by impious articles and directions, these
bishops shall never admonish him as faithful pastors
and messengers of God; but as they are made up
by man, they must and will flatter, pleasure, and
obey man. And as they stand by affection of the
prince, so will they by no means jeopard their
standing, but be the readiest of all to put the king’s
will and pleasure in execution, though it were to
take and apprehend the bodies of the best, and such,
namely, as would stand for the laws and freedom
of the realm, and to cast them into dark and
stinking prisons, put them in exile from their native
land, &c. The pitiful experience in times past
makes us bold to give the warning for the time to
come.’”"“
Subsequent events sufliciently proved, that the
men who uttered these things in the ears of parlia-
ment were the truest friends of their country. But
their warning voice was unheeded. The act was
passed, the political rank and privileges of bishops
were restored, and the king’s supremacy over the
church was unequivocally affirmed. Mere secular
politicians, and men of the world in general, care
little about the rights of the church of Christ. They
will look on, not simply with apathy and indifference,
but with cordial satisfaction at wrongs and aggres-
sions, which, if committed on the least of their own
temporal interests they would resent with indigna-
tion. It were well that this fact, so conspicuous
in the past history of the church of Scotland, were
kept in mind by the fiiends of evangelical truth and
of christian liberty in the present day. Many are
too apt to think that the spirit of freedom, the zeal
for popular rights, the controlling influence of the
public mind, which are so characteristic of this age,
must be a sure and sufficient protection to the
rights of conscience in matters of religion. Never
was there a greater delusion. If the public mind
were pervaded by real religion, the popular cast of
our political constitution would no doubt tend
greatly to guard our religious liberty. But an
irreligious public will be quite as faithless to the
cause of spiritual freedom as an irreligious prince.
The parliament of James VI. voted away, without
hesitation, the chartered independence, in matters
spiritual, of the church of Scotland. The parlia-
ment of Charles II. did the same thing half a
century thereafter with equal promptitude. Think-
* Reasons of Protest.
pp. 129- 131.
M‘Crie's Life of Melville, Vol. II.,





THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
liii



mg their own secular rights and interests secure, it
seemed to them a small thing to trample on the
liberties of the church of God. It was not in either
case till they had been made, in righteous retribu-
tion, to reap the fruits of their own venality and
injustice, by finding the oppressions that were prac-
tised, under the sanction of their enactment, on the
servants of Christ, brought to bear in the form of a
grinding and intolerable tyranny upon themselves,
that, first in 1638, and again in 1688, they were
taught to repair their grievous error, and to identify
civil with religious freedom. A far more popular
parliament than either of these has repeated, in the
19th century, the injury and the injustice which in
the 17th century were committed by them. Nor
is there anything exaggerated, or even unlikely, in
the supposition, that it may be by an experience not
dissimilar from theirs, that modern statesmen and
legislators may yet come to learn, that to deny
spiritual freedom to the church of Christ is to
subvert the liberty of the commonwealth, and to
lay the foundations of a real despotism.
The statute 1606 enabled the king to plead the
authority of law for those aggressions on the church’s
constitution and liberties, which, till then, rested on
his mere arbitrary will and pleasure. So long,
however, as the church withheld her consent from
the new order of things his triumph was incomplete.
Accordingly, the work now of bribing, and now of
breaking down opposition to his measures, went on
with still greater vigour than before. And when,
at length, persecution had silenced or banished
those whom royal blandishment could not buy, nor
royal craft deceive, an Assembly was found base
enough to respond to the king’s wishes, by renounc-
ing and overthrowing that noble and scriptural
polity which it had cost so many toils and struggles
to rear. This Assembly was held at Glasgow in
the month of June, 1610. Posterity has branded
it, in bitter derision, with the name of (mgclical, in
allusion to the notorious and infamous fact, that its
members were brought to the decision they gave, not
by any celestial influence, but by copious showers
of those “golden angels” which were then the cur—
rent coin of the realm. The members who con-
stituted this disgraceful Assembly were chosen under
royal missives sent to the presbyteries, and naming
the individuals whom they were to appoint, in the
same fashion as bishops are chosen in the church of
England, by the deans and chapters of cathedrals,
under the congé d’elire of the crown. A body, com-
posed of such “hired servants” of the king, it were
ridiculous to regard as truly representing the church
of Scotland. Accordingly, when in obedience to the royal mandate, it set up prelacy, constituting '
bishops the perpetual moderators of synods. direct-

ing all presentations to benefices to be made to
them, investing them with the exclusive right of
ordaining to the ofiice of the ministry, and with the
whole power of ecclesiastical discipline, and when,
by so doing, it recognised, moreover, that subjec-
tion to the civil supremacy, under which the bishops
held their offices, it manifestly abandoned all that
was most characteristic of the constitution and
principles of the ancient and original church of
Scotland. It will be our object to show in a sub-
sequent part of this Essay, that the modern Assem-
bly which held its sittings in Edinburgh in 184.3:
the Assembly which excluded from a place in it the
ministers and elders of quoad sacra churches, not
because Christ, but the court of session and the
parliament of Great Britain, had declared, that their
right to rule the house of God was the adjunct of
an endowment : the Assembly that gave a place in
it to ministers deposed by ecclesiastical, and reponed
solely by civil, authority : the Assembly that abol-
ished the principle of non-intrusion at the bidding
of the secular power: the Assembly that consented
to hold and exercise all its ecclesiastical autho-
rity in subjection to the supremacy of the courts of
law: the Assembly that did all this, it will be here-
after our object to show, did no more represent the
true church of Scotland than the Assembly of 1610.
Of the Assembly of 1610, M‘Crie remarks, that “ as
it would have been less insulting to the nation, so
it would have been equally good in point of autho-
rity, if the matters enacted by it had been at once
proclaimed by heralds at the market cross, as edicts
emanating from the royal will.” Of the Assembly
1843, the M‘Crie of a future age will have to write
substantially the same thing. The queen's letter
was the real act rescissory which undid the re-
formation work of the ten preceding years.
We have described the interval between 1592 and
1610 as a period of tcmptation,--a period, during
which cunning and cruelty combined to force, or
betray, the church into an abandonment of those
great principles, for which the Scottish VVorthies
witnessed and suffered. The brief sketch of that
period now given, may suffice to show to how lament-
able an extent the temptation prevailed. How
little could such a result have been anticipated
eighteen years before! “ Let him that thinketh he
standeth take heed lest he fall.”
Thus, after a struggle of more than ten years, was
episcopacy established in Scotland. “ The way in
which it was introduced exhibits a complete contrast
to the introduction of the ecclesiastical polity which
it supplanted. Presbytery made its way by the
weapons of argument and persuasion without the aid
of the civil power, which viewed its progress with a
jealous eye, and raised its arm repeatedly to crush it.‘


liv
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



.[ts patrons avowed from the beginning all that they
intended, and never had recourse to falsehood or
fraud to accomplish their favourite object. And it
had been rooted in the opinions and affections of
the nation, long before it obtained a legal establish --
ment. Episcopacy, on the contrary, was the crea-
ture of the state. It had the whole weight of the
authority and influence of the crown, all along, on
its side; and even with this it could not have pre-
vailed, or maintained its ground, without the aid
of those arts to which government has recourse, for
carrying its worst and most unpopular measures.
Deceit, and perfidy, and bribery, were joined to
fines, and imprisonments, and banishments, and the
terrors of the gibbet. Dissimulation was the grand
engine by which the Presbyterian Church was over-
thrown. *‘ * * *' A victory gained by such acts
was more dishonourable than many defeats. It
required only another triumph of a similar kind to
secure the perpetual prescription of episcopacy
from this country, and to fix a stigma upon it, which
must induce its warmest admirers to wish that
every trace of its existence were erased from the
annals of the church of Scotland.We
We have described the work of the first reformers,
the earlier Scottish Worthies, as consisting in the
restoration of evangelical doctrine, and in the
establishment of scriptural discipline. The former
was imbodied‘in the Confession of 1560, the latter
in the First and Second Books of Discipline, whose
grand principles were recognised and ratified in
the settlement of 1592. It is not unworthy of
remark, that the efforts of the king, during the
eighteen years that'followed, were specially directed,
not against the doctrine, but against the discipline
or polity of the church. The consequences which
ensued upon the success of his schemes are well
suited to illustrate how very closely the doctrine
and the discipline of a church are bound up
together. The discipline is the hedge of the doc-
trine. Let the discipline be taken away, or what
amounts to the same thing, let it come under the
control of the secular power, and the security of
her doctrine is at once destroyed. It need not
surprise us, therefore, to learn, that in the train of
that Erastianism which, in 1610, succeeded in sub-
verting the church’s Presbyterian government, there '
came in a general corruption of doctrine accom-
panied by a decline of vital godliness. For six
years after the disgraceful angelical Assembly the
supreme court of the church never met at all. Its
second meeting, during this dark period of the
church’s history, was the notorious Perth Assem-
bly of 1618, in which the Erastian tyranny which
’* M‘Crie's Life of Melville, Vol. II., pp. 251-253.

began with the overthrow of the church’s disci-
pline, was brought to bear with equal haughtiness
on her doctrine and worship. The church which
had suffered herself to be betrayed out of her
allegiance to Christ as her King and Governor, was
called to degrade herself still more by permitting
His prophetic oflice to be in its turn trampled under
foot of the civil power. At the Perth Assembly
five articles were proposed connected with the
administration of the most sacred ordinances of
religion, all of them flagrant innovations on the
church’s established doctrine and worship. They
were these: 1. Kneeling at the Lord’s supper; 2.
The observance of holidays, such as Christmas,
Good Friday, Easter, 810.; 3. Episcopal confirma~
tion; 4. Private baptism; 5. Private communicat-
ing. It was in vain to object, as some did, that
such things were unscriptural. The brief answer
of Archbishop Spottiswood, who presided in this
Assembly, to all reasonings of this kind, was, “ \Vill
you consent to the articles or disobey the king?”
The Assembly in which these proceedings took
place had scarcely the appearance of an ecclesias-
tical body. “There was set in the Little Kirk’s
(of Perth),” says Calderwood, “ a long table and
forms at every side for noblemen, barons, burgesses,
bishops, and doctors, and at the head of it a cross
table with chairs for his majesty’s commissioners
and the moderator. The ministers were left to
stand behind, as if their place and part had been
only to behold. But this apparently was done of
policy, that they might carry some majesty on their
part to dash simple ministers.”
In such an Assembly, composed for the most part
of the king’s creatures, and under such a constitu-
tion as the church had submitted to, the wonder is
that so many as forty-five members should have
been found to protest against the resolution by
which the obnoxious articles were carried. The
day on which they were shortly thereafter ratified
by parliament, is known in our ecclesiastical history
by the significant name of the Black Saturday. To
the faithful remnant, who, in the midst of general
defection, adhered to the principles of the Reforma-
tion, the heavens seemed to frown upon a deed by
which these principles were practically dishonoured
and disowned. When the Marquis of Hamilton,
the king’s commissioner, rose to give the royal
assent to the act of ratification, the hall was enve-
loped in the gloom of a heavy thunder cloud which
overhung the city, and, at the instant, when he
stretched out the sceptre to give the touch which
converted the obnoxious statute into law, the im-
pending storm burst forth. Flash after flash of the
most vivid lightning threw its ghastly glare over
the nation’s awe-struck representatives, while na-


__/ '
THE SCOTS wonrnms. 1v


ture’s artillery shook, with terrific peals, the edifice
in which they were assembled. From the rent
heavens there poured down at the same time a
torrent of rain and hail of unprecedented violence.
If there may have been something of superstition
in the feelings which prompted the pious peasantry
of Scotland to regard this anger of the elements as
indicating the displeasure of an offended God, these
feelings had at least a better warrant, as the younger ,
M‘Crie remarks, “ than the raillery which Spottis- i
wood puts into the mouths of others, who said, ‘ It
was to be taken as an approbation from heaven;
likening the same to the thunderings and lightnings
at the giving of the law of Moses !’”*
The sanction thus given to the Perth Articles,
was immediately converted by the king and his
tools the Prelates, into an engine of cruel oppres-
sion. The Court of High Commission,—a court as
arbitrary and iniquitous as the Inquisition itself,
which indeed it greatly resembled, proceeded to
enforce submission to the obnoxious articles with
the utmost rigour. But He who ruleth overall,
and who maketh even the wrath of men to praise
him, turned the very arts that were thus used to
root out Presbytery from the land, into a powerful
means of overturning prelacy itself. The great
body of the Scottish people, strong in their attach-
ment to the scriptural doctrine and discipline of
the Presbyterian Church, regarded these prelatic
innovations with all the greater abhorrence, that
their introduction was associated with the grossest
tyranny‘ and persecution. Those, on the other
hand, of the more able and faithful ministers,
who boldly refused submission, when banished
on this account from their parishes, carried into
the remoter districts of the country into which
they were driven, the influence of their high char-
acter and powerful preaching along with them.
Like the persecution which arose in the time of
Stephen, and which by scattering apostles and
evangelists over all J udea and Samaria, tended
to the more rapid and extensive diffusion of the
Gospel: or like the act of the British Legislature
in our own times, which was intended “to ex-
tinguish” the principles of non-intrusion and spiri-
tual independence, but which by compelling their
advocates to withdraw from the establishment, and
to form the Free Church of Scotland, promises to
give to these principles a prominence and a force
which will yet by the Divine blessing rally on their
side the homage of all the true churches of Christ
on earthz—in precisely such a manner did the
banishment fi'om their parishes, of the Bruces of i
Kinaird, the Dicksons of Irvine, and other like-
* M‘Crie's Sketches of Scottish Church Hist, p. l'l'l.

M4
minded men, conduce to the spread of evangelical
truth, and to the growth of that spirit, which was
destined, under God, to throw off by one mighty
and convulsive effort, the yoke of intolerable
bondage which the king and his prelates had im-
posed on the church and people of Scotland.
lVhile the causes thus briefly noticed were tending
to arouse the piety of the country, and to set it in
array against the existing order of things, the pre-
latic party were at the same time, by their haughti-
ness and presumption, alienating from them a large
portion of the ancient nobility. The ecclesiastical
dignitaries who had done the bidding of a despotic
sovereign, so promptly in the church, were certain
to be his most pliable instruments in the State also.
To them accordingly almost every civil office of
honour or influence was assigned.
pointments, and the arrogance with which they
were assumed, disgusted and irritated men of rank,
accustomed to lead, where they were now required
to follow. And when at length a proposal was
mooted in 1629 by the commissioner of Charles I.,
to revoke the grants of those greater benefices
which had been erected into temporal lordships,
and to transfer them to the maintenance of the
hierarchy, the indignation of the Scottish Barons
knew no bounds. Every day made it more and
more manifest that no right Or interest, whether
religious or political, was to be allowed to stand
in the way of that despotism in church and state
to which all things were now rapidly tending.
Even worldly-minded nobles were made to feel
when the fetters began to press on their own
limbs, that it was not without reason the faithful
and sagacious Melville warned them in 1606, that
in consenting to the overthrow of the church’s
freedom, they were paving the way for the subver-
sion of their own.
It was in this state of things, when dissatisfaction
was spreading rapidly among all classes of the
people, that Charles I. in 1633 came down to
Scotland. It was his first visit since his accession
in 1625. Inheriting all his father’s wilfulness and
insincerity, and possessing besides an obstinacy of
disposition peculiarly his own, his presence could
hardly fail to hasten the impending crisis. N atu-
rally haughty and imperious, and filled besides
with the high-church bigotry which his popish
queen, and Land, his semi-popish archbishop, had
instilled into his mind, his very first act evinced
a determination to aggravate the yoke which his
father had imposed on the church and people of
Scotland. In the parliament which met at Edin-
burgh, shortly after his arrival, he proposed that an
act should be passed authorizing him to regulate
ecclesiastical vestments; and when some of the

Such ap—v

lvi
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



nobility ventured to avow their objections to such
an enactment,—-“ Gentlemen,” said the arbitrary
and infatuated monarch, “I have all your names
here, and I’ll know who will do me service and who
This violent and unconstitutional
proceeding having failed to secure a majority of
votes, the king had recourse to the despicable ex—
pedient of obtaining a false return from the clerk,
who had been suborned for the purpose, and who
dishonestly gave in the numbers as in favour of the
obnoxious law.
Conduct like this sufficiently revealed to the
Scottish people their sovereign’s true character, and
prepared them for those still more intolerable
manifestations of his despotic spirit which soon after
appeared; and which, at length, blew the smoulder-
ing embers of the nation’s deep and universal dis-
content into a flame, that speedily reduced to
ashes the whole fabric of that civil and religious
tyranny, under which the kingdom had groaned
for upwards of thirty years. “ Sire,” said lord
London to the king, when his majesty was expres-
sing his surprise at that state of public feeling which
every day was becoming more manifest, “the
people of Scotland will obey you in everything with
the utmost cheerfulness, provided you do not touch
their religion and their conscience.” The time was
now at hand when the wisdom of such counsels, and
the folly of despising them, were to receive a signal
attestation. Persisting in his haughty and despotic
determination to make his own will the law for
both church and state, in the year 1637 a book of
canons was sent down for the regulation of the
clergy. A liturgy was at the same time prepared
by Land, the semi-popish archbishop of Canterbury,
which the Scotch ministers were peremptorily re»
quired by the king and council to procure and to
read in all their churches, not only without the
Scotch church being at all consulted on the subject,
but without any opportunity having been afforded
to the clergy of even seeing the service-book they
were thus commanded to use in the public worship
of God. It was now apparent to the whole country
that the changes, which had been made by force
and fraud on the external framework of the church,
were to be carried with the same reckless intoler-
ance into the very heart of the institution. Doc-
trine and worship were to be as little respected as
government and discipline; and unquestionably, if
royal authority or human laws were to be recog-
nised as the guide and standard of the one, it is not
easy to see on what principle they should be
excluded from a like supremacy over the other. The
mass of men, however, seldom see the true nature
of a principle till it is embodied in a fact. The
surplice and Laud’s liturgy revealed in a way, not
not, this day.”

to be misunderstood, their actual condition to the
Scottish people. They were on the verge of a
slavery as degrading as that from which the First
Reformation had rescued their fathers. To yield
was to go back from daylight to darkness—from
freedom to bondage—from saving truth to soul-
destroying error. \Vhen the combustible materials
have been prepared, a single spark suffices for
the explosion. The dean of Edinburgh on the
23d of July, 1637, appeared in the High Church of
St Giles. The sight of his Babylonish garment,
as the people accounted the surplice, and the sound
of his voice, uttering for the first time in the ears of
a Scottish audience, the words of the hated service-
book brought on the crisis. An old woman, start-
ing from the stool on which she sat, and hurling it
in the same instant at the dean’s head, cried out
“Villain, dost thou say mass at my lug?” That
seemingly trivial incident, resulting from the impulse
of the moment, fired the train which years of wrong
and oppression had been laying deep in the national
mind. Not only the congregation in which it
occurred, but Scotland from its centre to its circum-
ference was convulsed. Never, perhaps, in the
history of any kingdom, did the mind of a whole
people break forth into so instantaneous and unani-
mous a demonstration of excited feeling and deter-
mined purpose. The events which followed are too
notorious to need that we should detail them here.
It is enough to state that they issued in the memor-
able Glasgow Assembly of 1638, whose glorious
achievement it was to vindicate and restore the
scriptural constitution and the spiritual independ-
ence of the Church of Scotland.
The swearing of the national covenant was un-
doubtedly the grand means of giving that expres-
sion and concentration to the energies of the
national will, which compelled even the headstrong
and haughty Charles I. to bend and give way. In
that remarkable engagement, the barons and bur-
gesses, the clergy and people of Scotland, threw
themselves back, in this great emergency, on the
characteristic principles of that constitution in
church and state, which had been wrought out
amid the struggles and sufferings of the First Refor-
mation. The innovations, civil and ecclesiastical,
upon that constitution, which despotism had suc-
ceeded in forcing upon the church and country
during the preceding thirty years, were held to be,
as they truly were, incompatible with that order of
things which a host of fundamental and unrepealed
statutes had been intended to establish and tain. In so far as the interests of religion and of
the reformed church were concerned, the national
covenant embodied aview of the Reformation con-
test, closely corresponding to that which in the




THE SCOTS
W ORTHIES. lvii



earlier portion of this Essay, we have endeavoured
to give. The first branch of the covenant renewed
the nation’s protest against popery, and reasserted
those scriptural views of the gospel of salvation,
which it was the work of Knox to establish
on the ruins of the abolished papal superstition.
From this testimony for evangelical doctrine, the
covenant proceeded to a testimony not less explicit
for that scriptural discipline and independent juris-
diction which had been secured to the reformed
church, as the fruit of those labours of which so
distinguished a part was borne by Andrew Melville.
And the main design of the covenant, and that to
which it solemnly pledged all who joined in it, was
simply to promote the restoration of that purity of
doctrine and discipline which the confession of
1560, and the Books of Policy whose principles
were ratified by the settlement of 1592, so fully and
clearly set forth. “We do hereby profess,” said
the subscribers of the covenant, “and before God,
his angels, and the world, solemnly declare that
with our whole heart we agree and resolve, all the
days of our life, constantly to adhere unto and to
defend the foresaid true religion, and (forbearing the
practice of all novations already introduced in the
matters of the worship of God, or approbation of
the corruptions of the public government of the
kirk and civil places and power of kirkmen, till
they be tried and allowed in free assemblies and in
parliaments,) to labour by all means lawful to
recover the purity and liberty of the gospel as it was
established and professed before the foresaid nova-
tions.”
To resist this mighty movement was hopeless,
although, indeed, whatever the arts of an un-
scrupulous diplomacy could accomplish in that way
was tried by the king. A “free Assembly” was
convened. All his efforts to pack it with his own
creatures were in vain. The mind and heart of
the nation were thoroughly aroused. It was a time
of manifest reviving and refreshing from the pre-
sence of the Lord. The energy and unanimity
with which the whole preparations for this memor-
able Assembly were made,—as well as the wisdom,
firmness, and fidelity, with which its affairs were
conducted,—furnish evidence, not to be misunder-
stood, that it was the Lord’s doing; that He had
come to visit and redeem his people. And who
shall let when His time for working comes?
In granting what he found it impossible any
longer to refuse, that the church should be allowed
to meet in Assembly, and to regulate her own pro-
per affairs, the king yielded only inch by inch and
with the utmost reluctance. He clung to the
royal supremacy, in matters ecclesiastical, with the
tenacity of infatuated despotism, and had recourse I

to every artifice which a fraudulent diplomacy could
employ, to retain in his own grasp what he was
affecting freely to surrender to justice and to the
united voice of the kingdom. His secret corre-
spondence on the subject with his commissioner, the
marquis of Hamilton, which has now come to light,
has revealed a system of deliberate deception, the
most shameless that can well be conceived. Hav-
ing, at length, been made to see by his own ad-
visers that the calling of an Assembly was inevit—
able, he thus writes regarding it to Hamilton,
July 27, 1638 :——“You must labour that bishops
may have votes in assemblies, which if you cannot
obtain, then you are to protest in their favour in
the most fervent manner you can think of. As for
the moderator in the Assembly you are to labour
that he may be a bishop, which though you cannot
obtain yet you must give way to their election.
You are to labour that the Five Articles of Perth
be held as indifferent ; strive that the admission of
ministers may continue as they are. *6 9* * * You
are to protest against the abolishing of bishops, and
to give way to as few restrictions of their power as
you can. *6 *1‘ You are to advise the bishops to
forbear sitting at the council till better and more
favourable times for them.” In the month of
October following, and after having found, in the
interval, that many of the points about which he
had been so obstinate must be given up, and when
new the meeting of what he had summoned as a
“ Free General Assembly” was at hand, we find
him again writing to his commissioner in these
words :—“ And as for this General Assembly, though
I can expect no good from it, yet I hope you may
hinder much of the ill; first, by putting divisions
among them concerning the legality of their elec-
tions, then by protestations against their tumultu-
ous proceedings. And, I think, it were not amiss if
you could get their freedom defined (before their
meeting) so that it were not done too much in their
favour.” In this same style of double-dealing he
had, in the preceding month of June, secretly in-
structed Hamilton as follows :-—“ I give you leave
to flatter them with what hopes you please, so you
engage not me against my grounds, and in par-
ticular that you consent neither to the calling of
parliament nor General Assembly until the covenant
be disavowed and given up, your chief end being
to win time that they may not commit public follies
until I be ready to suppress them. *9 *é * This I
have written to no other end than to show you
t I will rather die than yield to those impertinent
and damnable demands, (as you rightly call them)
for it is all one as to yield to be no king in a very
short timefi'j"
* Peterkin’s Records of the Kizirk of Scotland, pp. 69, 81, 93



HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO





On the other hand the friends of truth and liberty
were at least equally resolute. In a long, elabo-
rate, and able “ protestation” which they drew up,
about two months before the Assembly met, they
insist “that all questions and doubts that arise
concerning the freedom of the Assembly, whether
in the constitution and members thereof, or in the
matters to be treated, or in the manner and order
of proceeding, be remitted to the determination of
the Assembly itself, as the only proper and compe-
tent judge. And that it shall be lawful for us,
being authorized with lawful commissions, as at
other times when the urgent necessity of the kirk
shall require, so in this exigence to assemble our-
selves at the diet appointed, notwithstanding every
impediment or prorogation to the contrary. And
being assembled, against all qualifications or pre-
suppositions, to propose, treat, reason, vote, and
conclude according to the word of God, Confession
of Faith, and acts of lawful Assemblies, in all
ecclesiastical matters pertaining to the Assembly,
and tending to the advancement of the kingdom of
Christ and good of religion.We
These brief extracts may suffice to show the
exact identity of this momentous contest with that
of the first reformation. On one side we see the
determination to bind the conscience by human laws,
and to subject the government of the church of
Christ to secular control; on the other a settled
purpose to be subject in such matters to the will
and authority of the Lord alone, as declared in His
own unerring and eternal word. Such were the
memorable circumstances in which the Assembly
met at Glasgow, on the 21st of November, 1638.
Hamilton, as the king’s commissioner, met that
venerable body prepared to maintain Erastianism
by every contrivance which the intrigues of the
most unscrupulous diplomacy or the threats of
offended power could employ. But a watchful
providence had raised up, not only in the Assem-
bly as a whole, but pre-eminently in the person of
its illustrious moderator, Alexander Henderson, a
defender of the great interests which were then at
stake, whom policy was as impotent to beguile as
power was to terrify into submission. The com-
missioner finding it impossible either to entangle
or to intimidate the Assembly, at length took the
decided step of dissolving and leaving it. At that
critical moment the least irresolution must have
been fatal to the liberties of the church and king-
dom. But the “ worthies” of the Glasgow Assem-
bly and their great leader were equal to the
emergency. “All that are here know,” said
Henderson, addressing the Assembly when the
* Peterkin’s Records, p. 89.

commissioner had withdrawn, “ the reasons of the
meeting of this Assembly; and albeit we have ac—
knowledged the power of christian kings for con-
vening of Assemblies and their power in Assem'
blies, yet that may not derogate from Christ’s
right, for He hath given divine warrants to convo-
cate Assemblies whether magistrates consent or not;
therefore, seeing we perceive men to be so zealous
of their master’s commands, have we not also good
reason to be zealous toward our Lord and to main-
tain the liberties and privileges of His kingdom.
Ye all know that the work in hand has had many
difficulties, and God has borne us through them all
to this day; therefore it becomet-h us not to be
discouraged now by anything that has intervened,
but rather to double our courage when we seem to
be deprived of human authority.” In this high
tone of calm and christian determination the
Assembly went forward in their work, nor did they
hold their hand until they had removed every one
of those unscriptural innovations, in the worship,
discipline, and government of the church, which
the king and his father had introduced. They
declared null and void the pretended Assemblies
from 1606 to 1618 inclusive, which in the capa-
city of royal tools had been employed to undo the
church’s original constitution. They condemned
the service-book, the canons, the high commission,
the articles of Perth, and the whole system of
prelacy; restoring at the same time in all its in-
tegrity the presbyterian platform which Knox and
Melville had laid down. The prelates, fourteen in
number, who had been the chief instruments in
corrupting the church and in subverting its liber-
ties, and who were besides guilty of various flagrant
immoralities, were some of them suspended, some
deposed, and some excommunicated according to
the extent and nature of their crimes. “ And
now,” ‘said the moderator, when at length, after
a month’s incessant labour, the business of this
memorable Assembly had been brought to a close,
“ we are quit of vthe service-book, which was a book
of slavery and service indeed; the book of canons
which tied us in spiritual bondage; the book of
ordination which was a yoke put upon the necks of
faithful ministers ; and the high commission which
was a guard to keep us all under that slavery. All
these evils God has rid us of, and likewise of the civil
places of kirkmen which was the splendour of all
these evils, and the Lord has led captivity captive
and made lords slaves. What should we do less
vthan resolve, first, since the Lord has granted us
liberty to labour, to be sensible of it and take
notice of it; for we are like to a man newly
awakened out of a dream, or like a man that has
lain long in irons. who after they are taken off and


I‘HE SCOTS \VORTHIES.
lix





‘mu
he redeemed, he feels not his liberty, but thinks the
irons are on him still. So it is with us. We do
not feel our liberty; therefore it were good for
us to study to know the bounds of our liberty
wherewith Christ has set us free, and then again
to labour earnestly that we be no more entangled
with the yoke of bondage.”*‘ And finally, when the
benediction had been pronounced, the moderator
dismissed the Assembly with these pregnant and
striking words : “ \Ve have now cast down the walls
of Jericho, let him that rebuildeth them beware of
the curse of Hiel the BetheliteY’T
In a former part of this Essay it was remarked
that twice, during the period which elapsed between
the great settlement of 1592 and the revolution of
1688, were the constitution and liberties of the
presbyterian Church of Scotland overthrown; and
that, in both cases, the triumph of the oppressor, by
a somewhat curious coincidence, lasted exactly
eight and twenty years. The former of these dark
passages in the church’s history we have now
briefly surveyed. The interval that immediately
preceded it we characterized as a season of inces-
sant, insidious, and cruel temptation. The interval
which followed it, and at which we have now
arrived, we represented as possessing a character
altogether different ; as a season of revival and
reformation. During this breathing time, so sud~
denly and so wonderfully vouchsafed, the charac—
teristic principles of the Scottish \Vorthies were de-
veloped in still greater completeness than even in the
settlement of 1592. Under that settlement, as we
specially noticed in describing it, lay patronage was
still retained; and so far a pretext, at least, was re-
served for the intrusion of the civil power into the
spiritual concerns of the church. This noxious
element, resting as it did on a civil statute, it was
not of course in the power of the Glasgow Assem-
bly, as a merely ecclesiastical court, to remove. But
that Assembly did in this matter what it could. It
revived the principle of non-intrusion, and took
measures to have it practically and faithfully en-
forced in the calling and settlement of ministers.
And the church, taught by experience, being new
bent on more thoroughly guarding both the inde-
pendence of her courts and the spiritual privileges
of her people, pressed urgently upon parliament
the duty of abolishing lay patronage altogether.
The Second Book of Discipline had noted it down
as one of the “ heads of reformation to be craved.’7
It was craved subsequently to the Glasgow Assem-
bly, again and again; and at length, in the year
" Peterkin’s Records, pp. 190, 191.
'f' See Appendix to this work for a. full report of the pro-
eeedings of the Assembly of 1638.

1649, this last remaining link of the chain of bond-
age was struck off, and for once the state seemed
content to concede to her the full liberty wherewith
Christ .had made her free. The preamble to the
act by which this was effected is not unworthy of
notice, as containing an unequivocal testimony to
the fact that the opposition to patronage in which
our great modern conflict began, is one of those
outstanding features which go to identify that con-
flict with the struggles of our reforming forefathers.
“ Considering,”says the act 1649, “ that patron-
ages and presentations of kirks is an evil and bond—
age, under which the Lord’s people and ministers of
this land have long groaned, and that it hath no
warrant in the word of God, but is founded only
on the canon law, and is a custom merely popish,
brought into the kirk in time of ignorance and
superstition; and that the same is contrary to the
Second Book of Discipline, in which upon. solid and
good ground it is reckoned among abuses that are
desired to be reformed, and unto several acts of
General Assemblies; and that it is prejudicial to
the liberty of the people and planting of kirks,
and unto the free calling and entries of ministers
unto their charge ; and the said estates being wil-
ling and desirous to promote and advance the re-
formation aforesaid, THAT EVERYTHING IN THE
HOUSE OF Goo MAY BE ORDERED ACCORDING TO
Hrs WILL AND COMMANDMENT, do discharge for
ever hereafter all patronages and presentations of
kirks, whether belonging to the king or any laic
patron, presbyteries, or others within this kingdom.”
In this memorable enactment not only is the griev-
ance done away, but that which is solemnly alleged
as the reason for abolishing it, imbodies an explicit
recognition of that fundamental principle of the Re-
formation,-—the principle which runs through all the
contendings of the Scottish lVorthiea—the princi~
ple which lies at the bottom of our recent contest,
—-that the word of God is the only rule of faith, and
that by it alone is the church of Christ to be
governed, not only in her doctrine and worship, but
in her whole policy and discipline.
lVe have had occasion to remark how, in the
preceding period of defection, the subversion of
scriptural discipline led to the introduction of
doctrinal heresies. It is instructive to observe, on
the other hand, that the restoration of discipline to
the ancient scriptural platform, was immediately and
extensively followed by the growth of evangelical
truth and of vital godliness. Speaking of the state
of Scotland, in regard to religion, towards the close
of the period with which we are now engaged,
Kirkton gives his testimony in these unqualified
terms: “At the king’s return,” that is, at the re-
storation of Charles 11.. “ every parish had a


lx HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO



minister, every village had a school, every family
almost had a Bible; yea, in most of the country all
the children of age could read the Scriptures, and
were provided of Bibles either by their parents or
ministers. Every minister was a very full profes-
sor of the Reformed religion, according to the
large Confession of Faith framed at 'Westminster.
None of them might be scandalous in their conver-
sation, or negligent in their office, so long as a
presbytery stood. I have lived many years in a
parish where I never heard an oath, and you might
have ridden many miles before you heard any.
Also you could not, for a great part of the country,
have lodged in a family where the Lord was not
worshipped, by reading, singing, and public prayer.
Nobody complained more of our church govern-
ment than our taverners, whose ordinary lamen—
tation was, their trade was broke, people were
become so sober.”* Strong as this statement is,
“it is fully borne out,” as the younger M‘Cric
remarks, “by that of other witnesses as unimpeach-
able as honest Kirkton.”j'
The years which intervened between the Glas-
gow Assembly and the restoration of Charles II.,
though crowded with important events, do not
require any lengthened notice in the present
Essay. Undoubtedly the greatest of these events,
both in a religious and in a political point of view,
was the adoption in 1643 of the Solemn League
and Covenant; “ a document,” to use the eloquent
language of Mr Hetherington, in his able and
deeply interesting History of the Church of Scot-
land, “ which we may be pardoned for terming the
noblest, in its essential nature and principles, of all
that are recorded among the international transac-
tions of the world. 9* *6 *6 * The great principles of
thatbond are those of the Bible itself. It maybe that
Britain was not then, and is not yet, in a fit state
to receive them, and to make them her principles
and rules of national government and law. But
they are not on that account untrue, nor even im-
practicable; and the glorious predictions of inspired
Scripture foretell a time when they will be more
than realized, and when all the kingdoms of this
earth shall become the kingdoms of Jehovah and
his Anointed, and shall all be united in one Solemn
League and Covenant under the King of kings and
Lord of lords. And though that time may yet be
far distant, who may presume to say that the seem-
ingly premature and ineffectual attempt to realize
it, by the heavenly-minded patriarchs of Scotland’s
Second Reformation, was not the first faint strug-
gling daybeam piercing the world’s thick darkness,
and revealing to the eye of faith an earnest of the

Sun of Righteousness I True, the clouds soon dark-
ened down and hid that herald daybeam, but not
less certainly does the day approach, although its
dawning beam may be shaded in the deepest gloom.
A sacred principle was then infused into the heart
of nations which cannot perish; a light then shone
into the world’s darkness which cannot be ex-
tinguished; and generations not remote may see
that principle quickening and evolving in all its
irresistible might, and that light bursting forth in its
all-brightening glory.”*
The doubt hinted in this passage as to Britain’s
fitness, either then or now, to receive, imbody, and
enforce in her laws and government the principles
which the Solemn League and Covenant lays down
might be used, were it consistent with the design
of this Essay, to suggest some interesting questions
in relation to the whole subject of the union of
church and state. Undeniably it is only on the
footing of a recognised and real subjection to the
Lord Jesus Christ as King of nations, that any
kingdom is in a condition to form a bona fide scrip-
tural union with His church and to recognise His
sole right to reign over it as King of saints. That
Britain is very far from making any such national
recognition of her obligation to regulate and ad-
minister her government in accordance with Christ’s
will, revealed in His word, at present, is too pain-
fully manifest. \Vhile this Essay is issuing from the
writer’s pen,the British legislature, the representative
of the national mind and will, has been debating for
nine days whether or not it shall enter into an alliance
with antichrist by establishing or at least endowing
the church of Rome in Ireland. And if this fatal
measure has not been determined on at once, it
is only because certain political difficulties appear
for the time to stand in the way. Scripture truth
instead of being made, in the discussion of the
question, the standard of appeal, was avowedly and
expressly repudiated as an authority which it were
bigotry to name. State convenience, and not the
word of God, was the only principle which parlia-
ment would consent to take for its guide. The
Free Church of Scotland has had no cause to
wonder that by such a legislature her claims to
spiritual independence should have been disallowed.
And, perhaps, a close examination of the national
authorities with which the church has had to deal
all along, might suggest at least a suspicion whether
at any time they were materially different from the
present.
At some periods the infusion of the Bible ele-
ment may have been greater in the ruling powers
than at others; and certain it is, that more than
* Kirkton's History of the Church of Scotland, pp. 63, 64.
+ M‘Crie’s Sketches, p. 371.
5* Hetherington’s History of the Church of Scotland, pp.
333-335.



A_x___—._.‘_l
THE SCOTS
WORTHIES. lXi

once, in Scotland, as at 1567, 1592, 1649, and
1690, it was with more or less directness acknow-
ledged as supreme. And yet how far, even at
these remarkable times, the admission was either
sua sponte or bona fide on the part of the state,—
was either a willing or a sincere acknowledgment
of subjection to Christ,—is fairly open to question.
Indubitable it is, that in the main the current of
state influence has been governed and directed by
principles altogether diverse from those of the word
of God; and hostile, as we have seen, to the
liberties of the church of Christ. It were, indeed,
to adopt a conclusion, most rash and unfounded to
suppose, that these liberties would have been more
secure, as M‘Gavin in his edition of the Scottish
IVorthies hastily assumes, had the church been
unconnected with the state altogether. The'primi-
tive church was not the less oppressed and perse-
cuted that it had no alliance with the civil power.
As has been already noticed, however, to discuss a
subject, so important and intricate, incidentally,
would be only to do it injustice. Our present
object and limits both forbid us to enter further on
it here.
The only period which it now remains to notice,
as connected with the contendings and sufferings of
the Scottish \Vorthies, is that which intervened
between the restoration and the revolution. Scarcel y
had Charles II. regained the throne of his ances-
tors, when the despotic and persecuting spirit of his
mfatuated race reappeared—a spirit which already
had cost his father his head, and which, ere long,
was to cost his family their crown. The oath of
allegiance which was tendered at the first meeting
of parliament gave unequivocal indication of what
was to be anticipated under the new monarch’s
reign. It involved a complete subversion of the
liberties of the church of Scotland, by acknowledg-
ing the king as supreme “ in all causes,” and bound
all who received it to acquiesce in a jurisdiction
which stretched alike over spiritual as over civil
affairs. All this, it is true, was not in so many
words proclaimed: but the language of the oath
was so framed as to embrace it all. The attack,
however, on the spiritual freedom of the church,
and on all those rights and privileges she and her
people had so dearly won, was not long to be
masked beneath the cunning phraseology of the
oath of allegiance. The act rescissory which imme-
diately followed, at one sweep obliterated from the
Scottish Statute Book every trace of those liberties
which the legislation of the twenty-eight years
preceding had so fully, and carefully, and solemnly
secured. Never did anarchy, in its wildest and most
lawless mood, perpetrate a deed more revolutionary
than this. Not only did it make a wholesale repeal ,

of innumerable acts of parliament, but, in the true
spirit of J acobinism, it annihilated the parliaments
themselves. King James spent eighteen years,
from 1592 till 1610, in subverting the religious
principles and the ecclesiastical constitution which
the struggles of the first reformation had evolved
and secured. His grandson prostrated the noble
edifice which the second reformation had reared in
a single session of parliament. And having thus
levelled the defences of presbyterianism, he pro-
ceeded, with the same high~handed tyranny, to re—
store obnoxious prelacy. The terms in which this
act, for “the restoration and re-establishment of the
ancient government of the church by archbishops
and bishops,” asserts the royal supremacy in matters
ecclesiastical, are of the most unqualified kind.
The act begins by setting forth, that “ the ordering
and disposal of the external government and policy
of the church, doth properly belong unto his majesty,
as an inherent right of the crown.” And, perhaps,
no better or more conclusive evidence, on the other
hand, could be desired of the completeness with
which the opposite doctrine, of the church’s spiritual
liberty, under the Lord Jesus Christ, as her only
head and king, had previously been recognised
and ratified by law, than that which this very
statute affords. The precise and pointed language
it was necessary to employ, in order to withdraw
that liberty, is the best possible proof how thoroughly
it had before been acknowledged and allowed.
The act in question, 1662. c. 2, “ casses and annuls
all acts of parliament by which the sole and only
power and jurisdiction within this church doth stand
in the church, and in the general, provincial, and
presbyterial assemblies and kirk sessions; and all
acts of parliament or council which may be inter-
preted to have given any church power, jurisdiction,
or government to the oflice-bearers of the church
at their respective meetings, other than that which
acknowledgeth a dependence upon and subordination
to the sovereign power of the icing as supreme; and
which is to be regulated and authorized by the
archbishops and bishops, who are to put order to
all ecclesiastical matters and causes, and to be ac-
countable to his majesty for their administration.”
“ At this time the enactments subsequent to 1638
had all been swept away by the general act rescis-
sory of the preceding session, and so the acts of
parliament, here referred to, were of course the act
1592 specially mentioned, and previous acts ratifying
the ‘ liberty’ of the church; the act 1592 being the
only one in which general and provincial Assem-
blies and presbyteries were mentioned by name.
Now what is the construction which in this statute
1662 is put on the act 1592? and where does it
hold the sole government and jurisdiction of the


lxii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO







church to be thereby acknowledged to stand?
Unquestionably the act 1662 held that by the
statute 1592 ‘THE SOLE AND ONLY POWER AND
JURISDICTION within the church,’ was acknowledged
‘ to stand in the church’ and her several church courts
there enumerated; and, further, that ‘the sole and
only power of jurisdiction’ so standing in them did
NOT acknowledge ‘ a dependence upon and subordi-
nation to the sovereign power of the kingas supreme.7
We have thus the acknowledgment of the keenest
supporters of the doctrine of the supremacy of the
civil magistrate over the church, that under the
presbyterian church government, as established by
law in 1592, the SOLE power and jurisdiction with-
in the church did stand in the church and church
courts, independent of and not subordinate to the
supreme civil power."916 I
In regard to the radical change thus effected on
this fundamental point, in the constitution of the
church and kingdom of Scotland, Mr Dunlop justly
remarks, that it lay at the bottom of all the strug-
gles and persecutions which followed. “ The king’s
supremacy over all persons and in all causes was
separately asserted by other acts of parliament,
(1661. c. 11. and 1669. c. l.) and the acknowledg-
ment of, or refusal to acknowledge this supremacy
in matters ecclesiastical was substantially the ‘ test,’
the pressing of which on the people was the occa-
sion of the horrible persecution consequent on the
restoration. Indeed it may be truly affirmed, that
the refusal to acknowledge this assert-ed supremacy,
was truly the cause of all the sufferings of the per-
secuted presbyterians of that bloody period; and
that they might at once have escaped from their
sufferings, if they would only have acknowledged it.
The atrocious barbarities to which the people of
Scotland were on this account subjected, has only
engraven more deeply on the heart of the nation,
the great doctrine of the sole supremacy of Christ
in his church, and perpetuated their repugnance
and horror at the assertion of such supremacy by
any civil authority.”T
\Vith this undoubted fact standing out so promi-
nently in the history of the dark and gloomy period
with which we are now engaged, it will be unneces—
sary to enter into any minute investigation of the
events which so painfully distinguished that memor-
able time, in order to identify the principles for
which its confessors and martyrs suffered, with those
of the Free Church of Scotland. The royal supre-
macy in matters ecclesiastical was first brought to
bear as an engine of persecution upon the clergy.

The privy council, immediately after the rising of
parliament in 1662, published an act to enforce the
authority of the diocesan meetings or bishops’ courts,
which were now put in the room of the provincial
Assemblies of the presbyterian church. To attend
such meetings would have been not only to acqui-
esce in the prelatic form of church government, but
directly to recognise the Erastian doctrine of sub-'
jeetion, in matters spiritual, to the civil power.
The diocesan meetings accordingly were all but
universally shunned by the presbyterian ministers.
But even this passive resistance to the tyranny
which had so suddenly trampled in the dust the
most sacred rights of‘a religious people, was not to
_be endured. The earl of Middleton, the king’s
commissioner, a rude and profligate soldier, came.
in the course of the same year to Glasgow, on what
_ might justly be called a tour of debauchery and
persecution. Fairfoul, the archbishop, having laid
before him a formal complaint as to the non-attend-
ance of the ministers at the diocesan court, had
little difficulty in inducing him to pass an act of
council, to compel their subjection, and that in the
most unequivocal form, to the new order of things.
Nor is it unworthy of notice that the instrument
employed for this purpose was the law of patronage.
We have had occasion to notice the connexion of
that obnoxious law with both prelacy and Erastian-
ism in an early part of this Essay; and it is not
uninstructive to find it again used in the dark and
bloody reign of Charles II., as it has been in the
present more enlightened and civilized age, as a
wedge to rend asunder the church of Scotland.
The proposal of Fairfoul was to banish from their
charges and benefices all ministers inducted subse-
quently to 1649, the year in which patronage had
been abolished, who did not within a month pro-
cure presentations from the patrons and submit to
be admitted de novo to their parishes under the
authority of the prelates. Although the passage
has been often quoted in which bishop Burnet
describes the meeting of privy council at which the
wedge of persecution was thus driven home, the
fact it relates is too characteristic to be omitted.
“They were all so drunk that day that they were
not capable of considering anything which was laid
before them, and would hear of nothing but the
executing the law without any relenting or delay.”
Such is the levity with which the best interests of a
country are often scattered to the winds, by reck-
less statesmen. The archbishop assured Middleton-
and his colleagues that not ten ministers in his
diocese would hesitate about yielding to the act in
,. Dunl 013.5 Answer to Dean of Facultfs Letter to the Lord 1 question when their hvmgs were at stake. Perhaps
l
Chancellor, pp. 70, Tl.
'l' Dunlop's Answer, p. 70.
I
l
* Burnet’s History of His Own Times. Vol. I. p. L54.
4-.-
THE SCOTS WORTHIES.
lxiii

a credulous cabinet may have had Fairfouls to tell
them a similar story in 1843. WVorldly politicians
are almost always out in their reckoning where
conscience is concerned. It is an element for which
their calculations make little or no allowance. But
conscience made the “act of Glasgow” convulse, not
a handful of parishes in a single diocese, for a day
or a year, but a whole kingdom, and that for a
quarter of a century ;—made that act the means,
not, of securing a mitre, but, of overturning a throne.
Instead of ten ministers, two hundred in one day,
forsook all, that they might follow Christ. The act
being soon after brought to bear on other districts, the
number of the “ outed ministers” rose almost imme-
diately to about four hundred; of these men, bishop
Burnet bears the following honourable testimony.
“They used to visit their parishes much, and were
so full of the Scriptures and so ready at extempore
prayer, that from that they grew to practise ex-
t-empore sermons. They had brought the people
to such a degree of knowledge that cottagers and
servants would have prayed extempore. By these
means they had a comprehension of matters of re-
ligion greater than I have seen among that sort of
people anywhere. As they lived in great familiarity
with their people, and used to pray and to talk oft
with them in private, so it can hardly be imagined
to what a degree they were reverenced and loved
by themf’a'é
To trace the history of the fierce and bloody
persecutions with which these men of God, and the
faithful christian people who cast in their lot with
them were followed, is not the province of this
Essay. Of the light in which they themselves re-
garded their sufferings, we may offer to the reader
one or two brief statements of their own, by way of
illustration. It will be seen at a glance how closely
they serve to identify the arduous struggle in which
they were engaged, with the controversy of our own
times. “ I have great peace,” writes Mr John
Livingstone, minister of Ancrum, to his parishion-
ers on being compelled to leave his charge, “ in the
matter of my suffering. I need not repeat, you heard
my testimony of the things in controversy; Jesus
Christ is a King, and only hath power to appoint
the affairs and government of his house. I think
I may sayI could have been well content, although
it had been with many discouragements and straits,
to have gone on and served you all as I could, in the
gospel of Jesus Christ; but the prerogative royal
of Jesus Christ, and the peace of a man’s own con-
science, are not to be violated on any considera-
tion: neither hath there been a blessing on ought
that is done against them.” . Let one other sufiice,
’~‘ Bur-net's History, p. 158.

and it is that, not of a minister, but of a private
member of the flock of Christ, a humble christian
woman. “ Let enemies and pretended friends say
what they will,” said Isobel Alison, who laid down
her life in the cause to which she hears this testi-
mony, “I could have my life on no easier terms
than the denying of Christ‘s kingly ofiice; thus
I lay down my life for adhering to Jesus Christ, his
being a free king in his own house. I bless the
Lord that ever he called me to this.“
In the course of the twenty-eight years during
which this persecution raged it has been computed
that not fewer than eighteen thousand persons
were directly visited, in one form or other, with
penal inflictions, multitudes by heavy fines, and by
the exactions of a brutal soldiery who were quar-
tered upon peaceful families, till, like the devouring
locust, they had left nothing behind, were reduced
to poverty. Nearly two thousand were banished
to the plantations, of whom a large number perished
by shipwreck, while many more pined and died
amid the privations of exile. A still greater num-
ber were cast into prisons and loathsome dungeons.
Not a few were subjected to tortures the very
recital of which makes men’s blood run cold.
Nearly four hundred were judicially murdered by
form of law, while more than an equal number
were put to death without even the mockery of a
trial. “But,” as Defoe has beautifully remarked,
“it would be endless to cnumerate'the names of the
sufferers; and it has not been possible to come at
the certain number of those ministers or others,
who died in prison and banishment, there being no
record preserved of their prosecution in any court
of justice. Nor could any roll of their names be
preserved in those times of confusion anywhere,
but under the altar and about the throne of the
Lamb, where their heads are crowned and their
white robes seen, and where an exact account of
their number will at last he found.”1'
Verily thereis a God that judgeth in the earth:
and though He be slow to wrath, yet is He of
great power, and will not at all acquit the wicked.
The persecuting house of Stewart had at length
filled up the measure of their iniquity; they had
been weighed in the balances and found wanting.
By the memorable and glorious revolution of 1688
their kingdom was taken from them and given to
another.
It is not our purpose to enter on the wide field
of discussion into which the settlement, obtained by
* For these and a multitude of similar testimonies, see the
_ Rev. John Anderson's “Footsteps of the F lock ;" a small
but singularly seasonable and interesting work.
'1' Memoirs of the Church of Scotland, as quoted in
M‘Crie's Sketches, pp. 551, 55?.




lxiv
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO


the church at the revolution, might easily introduce
us. That it was not flee from defects, every candid
student of history must at once allow. IVhat it
chiefly, if not exclusively, belongs to this Essay to
show, is simply this, that in the main it allowed and
ratified the grand characteristic principles of the
Scots \Vorthies. The very first act of king IVilliam’s
first parliament (act 1690, c. 1.) abolished the
royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical, as “in-
consistent with the establishment of the church
government now desired;” a clear admission, on the
part of the legislature, that freedom from civil con-
trol in things spiritual was, and had always been,
a fundamental distinction of the Presbyterian Church
of Scotland. In further confirmation of the church’s
restored liberties, the act in question (ch. 5.) de»
clares it to be the bounden duty of the king and
estates of parliament “to settle and secure 9* *‘ the government of Christ’s church within this
nation, agreeable to the word of God.” With this
view, it revived the act 1592, entitled, “ ratification
of the liberty of the True Kirk.” At the same
time it ratified the Confession of Faith: a confes-
sion which pointedly and explicitly declares that
“ the Lord Jesus Christ, as King and Head of his
church, hath therein appointed a government in the
hand of church oflicers, distinct from the civil
magistratez” and, further, expressly affirms that
“ the civil magistrate may not assume to himself
the administration of the word and sacraments, nor
the power of the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”
Along with this repudiation of Erastianism, prelacy
and lay patronage, the two main pillars on which it
had ever leant for support, were cast out from the
Church of Scotland. And, while the principles
of the \Vorthies were thus once more recognised
and honoured, the men themselves, by whom these
principles had been so resolutely asserted, were
restored to their rightful position. The act 1690, c.
5. re-establishing the presbyterian church govern-
ment, allowed and declared “ that the church
government must be established in the hands of,
and be exercised by, those presbyterian ministers
who were outed since the 1st of January, 1661,
&c., and such ministers and elders only as they
have admitted or received, or shall hereafter admit
and receive.”
We have now run over in this historical sketch
the entire period which the contendings and suffer-
ings of the Scots WVorthies embrace,—a period of
no less than one hundred and sixty years, extend-
ing from the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton, in
1528, to the accession of king William, at the
revolution. And brief and rapid though our sketch
has unavoidably been, the facts which it presents
can hardly fail to satisfy the reader of the truth of
lM


what was stated near the beginning of the Essay,
that “ the distinguishing principles of the Scots
‘Vorthies” were, “in other words, the distinguish-
ing principles of the Reformation.” The sufficiency
of Scripture as the only rule of faith and manners,
was that on which they took their stand at the
outset, and on which they maintained their grand
contest to its close. First, in vindicating evangeli—
cal doctrine, and afterwards in framing and uphold-
ing a right system of church government and disci-
pline,——their uniform object was to maintain the
supremacy of the Lord Jesus Christ, speaking by
his Spirit in the Word. \Vhether it was in con-
tending, at the first reformation, against the doc-
trinal errors and corruptions of the Church of Rome,
or after the first, and throughout the whole of the
second reformation, in resisting the Erastian usurpa-
tions of the civil power, the ground on which they
stood was substantially the same, viz—that the
church has no liberty to believe or do any thing
but what her divine Head has, in the Scriptures of
truth, taught and ordained.
And, having thus endeavoured to set forth and
illustrate the real nature of the principles for which
the Scots \Vorthies contended and suffered, it only
remains in bringing this Essay to a conclusion, to
point out very shortly their substantial identity with
those now witnessed for by the Free Church of
Scotland. To a great extent, indeed, this has been
already done. In prosecuting our narrative the
points of coincidence were so continually forcing
themselves on our observation as almost to render
unnecessary any special and separate discussion.
To any one at all conversant with our recent con-
troversy, the history we have surveyed will, I feel
confidently assured, be more than enough to de-
monstrate its entire accordance, in every essential
particular, with the struggles of our reforming
ancestors. A mere summary of that controversy
is therefore all that is needful, and we shall not
attempt to detain the reader with anything more.alt
To understand and appreciate the recent contro-
versy, it will be indispensable to glance for a moment
* The history of the eventful controversy which led in
May, 1843, to the “disruption " of the church, deserves and
requires to be recorded in full; nor can it ever be done so
accurately or so well as now. Time will soon involve in
uncertainty, or distort into erroneous shapes, facts and cir-
cumstances which at present are well known or can be easily
ascertained. The cause of truth demands that such a work
should be written, and posterity will complain if it be neglect-
ed. Owing entirely to certain advantages of his position, the
writer has been more than once urged to undertake the task.
Its magnitude and difiiculty, together with the want of sulfi-
cient leisure, have, however, deterred him from attempting it.
[Some years later the author produced a history of this con-
troversy under the title of “ The Ten Years’ C0nflict."]




THE SCOTS ‘WORTH lES.
1x \'



._—_.,—_
at a few of the outstanding events in thehistory of
the Church of Scotland, and bearing immediately on
that controversy, which occurred between the
revolution settlement and the year 1834. The
first and most prominent of these was the restora-
tion of lay patronage by the act of queen Anne in
the year 1711. This act, as bishop Burnet states,
and as is notorious to all acquainted with its origin,
was “made on design to weaken and undermine”
the presbyterian establishment. The passing of it
was, moreover, an unquestionable breach of the
Treaty of Union between the two kingdoms, entered
into only four years before,~—-a treaty by which the
entire constitution, rights, liberties, and privileges
of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland had been put
beyond the interference of the British parliament,
and declared to be “ unalterable for ever.” The
church protested against the act as a gross injustice
and a grievous wrong. The feeling of indignation
and alarm which prevailed on the subject among
the people of Scotland was so unanimous and so
strong, that for some years no patron ventured to
assume the obnoxious power which the act con—
veyed. The poison, however, began at length to
work; at first by slow degrees, but in the lapse of
time, with a rapidity and a virulence which had
nearly extinguished the spiritual life of the church.
Infidelity, which already had been r1s1ng mto the
ascendant on the Continent and in England, was,
beyond all question, mightily aided by the act of
queen Anne in gaining that destructive eminence,
which, in the latter half of the 18th century it
reached in Scotland. What must have been the
condition of a church in whose supreme court a
proposal, made in 1796 to countenance the cause of
missions, was scouted out of doors with contempt
and scorn! And what must have been the pre-
ceding amount of spiritual desolation and death
which this climax of iniquity crowned, when in the
course of the discussion which the proposal called
forth, an aged minister, of the school which that
infidel period had reared, could stand up in his
place and say, “ I have on various occasions, during
a period of almost half-a-century, had the honour
of being a member of the General Assembly, yet
this is the first time I remember to have ever heard
such a proposal made, and I cannot help also think-
ing it the worst time.”9
It was during this dreary period the patronage
law of queen Anne was in full and unmitigated
operation, enforced in the church courts by the
party which it did so much to create, with arigour
and a relentless cruelty which the act itself, had as it
*‘ Speech of Rev. Dr Carlyle; vide the Two Parties in the I
. the eyes of the great world when it was seen in
Church of Scotland, by Hugh Miller, p. ‘2'2.



was, had never been understood—till the Auchter-
arder decision was pronounced—to have at all
necessitated or required. That act professed to
do no more than take the nomination of ministers
to parishes from the heritors and elders, to whom
that privilege had been conceded by the act 1690,
and give it to the lay patrons. In all other respects
it left both the congregations and the presbyteries
concerned in the very position which they enjoyed
under the revolution settlement. It expressly pro-
vided that presbyteries were to “receive and
admit in the same manner such qualified person or
persons, minister or ministers, as shall be presented
by the respective patrons as the persons or minis--
ters presented before the making of this act ought to
have been admitted.” The right of the people, there
fore, to approve or disapprove, and the right of the
presbyteries to give or withhold their consent, in
the case of any presentee coming before them, as it
was thus distinctly reserved by the statute itself, so
was it frequently acted on and enforced during that
century by the church courts, and that without
challenge in the courts of law. Indeed, the com-
petency of the church courts to consent or refuse to
settle a presentee, rested on other and still more
unequivocal authority. The statute 1567, ratified
by the settlement of 1592, and again revived by the
settlement of 1690, had provided and declared, that
“the examination and admission of ministers shall
be only in the power of the Kirk ;” while, in addi-
tion to this, all those other statutes which recog-
nise the church’s right to put order “ to all matters
and causes ecclesiastical,” implied of necessity that
the ordaining or declining to ordain of any man to
the office of the holy ministry, and the setting or
not setting of him over a portion of the flock oi
God, must be exclusively under the cognizance of the
presbyteries, synods, and assemblies of the church.
Accordingly, all through the 18th century the
evangelical party in the Church of Scotland, even
when reduced by the disastrous influences above
noticed to a small and despised minority, continued
to protest against the wrong which the “forced
settlements,” then in fashion, were doing, as not
only injurious to the interests of religion, but as
being wantonly and ultroneously perpetrated by
the church courts, in disregard of the liberty which
the law of patronage itself conceded to the people.
At length a change began to pass upon the
Church of Scotland. The speculative infidelity
which had been so fashionable when confined to
the writings of the philosophers and literati, and
when it led to no other visible consequences but
the dissipation and profligacy of the higher ranks
of society, assumed altogether a different aspect in
Z
lxvi
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO




France taking a practical form and bringing forth
among the masses its legitimate fruits. The
shaking of thrones, the confiscation of property, the
incessant clank of the guillotine, and all the other
horrors of the French revolution, revealed to the
terrified aristocracy of Great Britain the abyss of
ruin to which infidelity was fast hurrying their
country and themselves. The effect of this dis-
covery was immediate, and its influence on the
exercise of lay patronage in the churches of both
England and Scotland was undeniably great. The
evangelical party came into a measure of favour to
which they had long been strangers. It was seen
that their principles, and not those of moderatism,
had power to touch the heart and beget in it that
fear of God which is the only sure foundation of
true loyalty. The tide now fairly turned, and each
successive year of the present century witnessed a
constant accession to the ranks of evangelism in the
courts and parishes of the Church of Scotland. In
the year 1834 the evangelical party at length ac-
quired a majority in the Assembly, and from that
day a new and memorable era in the Church’s
history began. For some years before, indeed, the
growth of their numbers and influence had been
infusing a difi‘erent and better spirit into the Church’s
proceedings. Missions, formerly trampled on, had
been set on foot by the Church herself. A struggle
had commenced, and already had been successful in
many of the inferior courts, for the restoration of
their rightful position and liberties, in the settle-
ment of their ministers, to the Christian people.
Many were demanding the entire abolition of lay
patronage, while the whole evangelical party were
insisting that, at the least, the principle of non-
intrusion laid down in the church’s books of dis-
cipline, and so often imbodied in her laws, should
no longer be disregarded. In this movement con-
siderations of expediency induced some even of the
moderate party to join. A formidable attack was
at that moment in progress against all the national
religious establishments of the empire; and it
required but a very common measure of worldly
sagacity to perceive that the likeliest Way to pro--
tect their own establishment against such assailants,
was to secure its hold over the affections, by seat-
ing it deeper in the esteem and confidence of its
own people.
The system which had already driven one-third
of the population out of the communion of the na-
tional church,—-the system of high-handed patron-
age,—was now seen to need some remedy, even
by many who were altogether blind to its unscrip-
tural character, and to the deep injury it had
done to vital godliness throughout the land.
Such is a brief summary of the circumstances in

which the third reformation began. In the year
1834, the General Assembly, under the guidance
of an evangelical majority, passed two acts, which
both in themselves, and in their consequences, will
render that year memorable in the religious history
of Scotland, of Britain, perhaps of the world. The
former of these was the act which since has become
a household word under the name of the veto law.
The latter was the chapel act,—erecting chapels of
ease into parochial churches, quoad sacra. Both
these measures proceeded on the principles of the
church’s original constitution, the one recognising
and enforcing a right which the church’s standards
and law had always declared to belong to congre-
gations, viz., that no “pastor should be intruded
on them contrary to their will.” The other restor-
ing to certain ministers, who, under the regime oi
moderatism, had been placed in a position altoge-
thcr unpresbyterian and anomalous, the full powers
and functions Of their Office.
In passing the veto law, the Assembly had the
express concurrence of the law officers of the
crown, and the adoption of it called forth immedi-
ately a high eulogy both on the law and its promo-
ters, from the then Lord Chancellor,eie the highest
legal functionary in the kingdom. The church
was therefore fully warranted to believe that her
law was as much in harmony with civil rights, as
she knew it to be in harmony with her own con-
stitution. Her competency to frame such a law,
in so far as its ecclesiastical authority and effects
were concerned, she held to be inherent, and not
dependent on the allowance of the civil power.
But at the same time, the fact now noticed, gave
her a sufficient warrant to believe that it travened
no civil statute, and must therefore be good to civil
effects also.
Again, in passing the chapel act, the Assembly,
in addition to immemorial usage, had the prece-
dent of the Assembly 1833, which, by virtue of
ecclesiastical authority alone admitted to seats in
church courts, and to a parochial status, quoad
sacra, the ministers of the forty churches erect-
ed a few years before in the Highlands, and
commonly known by the name of the parliamen-
tary churches. That step had been taken on the
report of a committee, of which the leader of the
moderate party, Dr Cook, was convener, and which
numbered among its members, the late lord presi-
dent Hope, the present lord justice general Boyle,
and the present lord justice clerk Hope. The
adoption of the chapel act therefore in 1834,
seemed to be as little likely to be questioned on
civil and legal grounds, as on grounds spiritual
and ecclesiastical.
* Lord Brougham.

It‘
THE SCOTS XVOBTHIES.
lxvii








Nor was it a mere expenditure of barren legis-
lation by which the ascendancy of the evangelical
party was distinguished. The reformation work on
which they entered was thoroughly practical, and
told immediately, powerfully, and extensively on
the whole character and spirit of the church as a
religious institution.
“In one single year, and by the meeting of next
General Assembly, there were in progress towards
erection, by voluntary contribution, sixty-two new
churches in connection with the establishment,
being exactly the number which had been so erected
in the whole course of the preceding century.
“At the end of five years, the number of new
churches so erected or in progress was 201, being
an addition of more than one-fifth to the whole
number of churches in the establishment in 1834.
“By the same period intercourse had been
restored with more than one foreign protestant
church, the intolerant ban of non-communion had
been removed from the English and Irish presby-
tcrian churches, and the first step thus made to-
wards a return in practice to the catholic principles
of our Confession. *6
“ Three new schemes of christian benevolence had
been instituted by the church ; that of church ex-
tension in 1834; that for the aid of presbyterian
settlers in the colonies in 1836; and that for the
conversion of the Jews in 1838; while those pre-
viously established for education and foreign mis-
sions, were prosecuted with increased activity and
zeal.
“The healthful exercise of discipline was re—
stored, and the church purged of worthless minis-
ters, who in other days would have found protec—
tion and shelter.
“The oversight of presbyteries over parishes, of
synods over presbyteries, and of the Assembly
over synods, was encouraged and rendered more
effective.
“The superintendence and trial of students of
divinity was improved and extended, and the
course of study enlarged.
“ One branch of the secedcrs was restored to the
communion of the church, and so a door was
opened for the return of others. 5*
"' Finally, instead of the apathy and coldness with
which the church was previously regarded, a warm
and zealous attachment to her pervades the great
body of the people: and as her representatives
assemble from year to year in her supreme judi-
catory, they have the delightful satisfaction to

know, that instead of their meeting being receiv-
ed with the utter indifference which formerly pre-
vailed, the fervent prayers of many thousands of
her pious and faithful children are constantly
offered up to God for a blessing on their deliber-
ations.” T
It was in the midst of this career of growing en-
ergy and efliciency, the church found herself at length
so obstructed and overborne by the civil courts in
the exercise of her most sacred functions and duties,
as to have been at length compelled to appeal for
redress to the Imperial Parliament. The rejec-
tion of that appeal, and of the claim to an intrinsic
and exclusive jurisdiction in matters spiritual on
which it was founded, led to the disruption of the
establishment.
This memorable conflict began with the well
known Auchterarder case. The parish of that
name having become vacant in 1834, the patron,
the Earl of Kinnoul, presented to it a licentiate of
the name of Mr Robert Young. In the month of
December of that year the presbytery, having pre-
viously appointed the presentee to preach two
sabbaths in the parish, met in the church of Auch-
terarder, to moderate in the call. The call was of
iinmemorial usage in the church of Scotland. It
was through the medium of the call that the prin-
ciple of non-intrusion was exhibited and enforced.
It was with a view to restore the call to practical
efiiciency, that the “ act on calls,” commonly called
the veto law, was passed by the church in 1834.
Instead of leaving presbyteries to decide in each
case whether or not the call was sufiicient, in other
words, whether there was sufficient evidence of the
consent of the congregation, the act of 1834 laid it
down as a general rule, that the dissent of a ma-
jority of male heads of families in communion with
the church should be decisive against the call, and
should take effect to prevent the settlement, leaving
the patron to bring forward another presentee.
In the case of Mr Young this act was put in force.
Out of a population ‘of upwards of 3000 souls, only
two parishioners could be found to subscribe his call
to be their minister. At the same time, an immense
majority of the qualified communicants came forward,
and tendered their dissent against the settlement. The
presbytery accordingly rejected Mr Young. The
patron and presentee refusing to acquiesce in this
decision, carried the case into the court of session.
Against the form in which this action was originally
laid, the church could have had no right to complain.
In that form the court was called on to entertain
the action solely with a view to determine to whom
*This first step was subsequently followed up in 1842,
by the removal of “ the ban of intercommunion” altogether.
The door thus opened, was characteristically shut by the pp. ‘35, ‘26, 27.
residuary Assembly of 1843.
the benefice of Auchterarder should belong; the
'i' Dunlop's Letter to Dean of Faculty, (written in 1830,)



lxviii
HISTORICAL [NTRCDUCTION TU





patron and presentee, on the ground of alleged ille-
gality in the church’s proceedings, claiming it for one
or other of themselves. Before however the action
was proceeded with. the original summons was
withdrawn, and an amended summons given in, by
which the conclusions sought in the action were
entirely changed. In this new form, What the
pursuers substantially claimed, was not merely that
the civil court should assert its rightful authority
to dispose of the benefice, but should assume what
the civil court had never attempted to touch since
the royal supremacy in matters spiritual was abol-
ished at the revolution, a right to control the church
courts in their ecclesiastical procedure; and in a
word to correct or punish as it might see cause,
the judicatories of the church. After a long liti-
gation, judgment on this momentous case was pro-
nounced in the spring of 1888 by the court of ses-
sion, by a majority of eight to five of the judges,
in favour of the pursuers. The udgment declared,
that in rejecting Mr Young in the circumstances
above described, the presbytery of Auchterarder
had acted “ illegally, and in violation of their duty.”
This sentence, and the terms in which the judges
who pronounced it expressed themselves on the
subject, gave just and great alarm to the church,
and led in the Assembly, which met soon after, to
the adoption of the celebrated independence resol-
ation. That resolution, which the writer of this
Essay had the distinguished honour to move, drew
at once, and clearly, the line between the secular
and the spiritual province ; and while it proclaimed
the utmost readiness to yield up the one freely to
the courts of the state, expressed a firm determi-
nation, through grace, to submit to no civil control
within the limits of the other. In this resolution,
the identity of the struggle, which had now fairly
begun, with that of the ancient ‘Vorthies whose
contendings we have been endeavouring to illus-
trate, may be seen at a glance. " The General
Assembly of this church, while they unqualifiedly
acknowledge the exclusive jurisdiction of the civil
courts, in regard to the civil rights and emoluments
secured by law to the church and the ministers
thereof, and will ever give and inculcate implicit
obedience to their decisions thereanent : do resolve,
that as it is declared in the Confession of Faith of
this national church, that ‘the Lord Jesus Christ
is King and Head of the church, and hath therein
appointed a government in the hand of church-
ofiicers distinct from the civil magistrate,’ and that
in all matters touching the doctrine, government,
and discipline of the church, her judicatories pos-
sess an exclusive jurisdiction founded on the word
of God, which ‘power ecclesiastical (in the words


of the Second Book of Discipline) flows from God i
and the Mediator, and is spiritual, not having a
temporal head on earth, but only Christ, the only
spiritual King and Governor of his kirk,’ and they
do further resolve, that this spiritual jurisdiction,
and the supremacy and sole headship of the Lord
Jesus Christ on which it depends, they will assert
and at all hazards defend, by the help and blessing
of that great God, who in the days of old enabled
their fathers, amid manifold persecutions, to main-
tain a testimony for Christ’s kingdom and crown:
and finally, that they will firmly enforce obedience
to the same upon all office-bearers and members of
this church, by the execution of her laws in the
exercise of the ecclesiastical authority wherewith
they are invested.”
In this resolution the trumpet of the Church
gave forth no uncertain sound. Should the courts
of civil law follow up the decision pronounced in
1838, in the Court of Session, and affirmed the fol-‘
lowing year in the House of Lords, by an order to
the patron or presentee of Auchterarder to take
possession of the benefice of that parish, the Church
by her resolution had signified her readiness to bow,
and would no doubt have made through the voluntary
liberality of her members, suitable provision for the
sustentation of another minister in Auchterarder dur-
ing Mr Young’s life. But on the other hand, should
the civil courts, under cover of the above decision,
issue an order upon the presbytery to proceed
with the settlement of the presentee, in other word.c
to intromit with the spiritual province, the resolution
had unequivocally announced that any such order
would be disregarded as an unlawful interference
with the proper spiritual jurisdiction of the Church.
An order of this latter kind was issued, and it
was disregarded. This gave rise to a supplemen-
tary action at the instance of the same pursuers,
with a view to have it found that the ‘Presbytery of
Auchterarder were liable in damages, laid at the
enormous amount of £16,000, for refusing to pro-
ceed with his settlement. At every step of the con-
flict thus begun, the Erastian supremacy claimed
by the courts of law came out in more glaring
colours. One usurpation was immediately followed
by another still more intolerable, until in the lan-
guage of one of the most eminent judges that ever
adorned the Scottish Bench, it had come to this,
that not a “shred of spiritual independence was
left to the courts of the Church of Scotland.”
Meanwhile the chapel act of 1834, had also been
assailed in the courts of law. Although like its con-
temporary, the act on calls, it had been shedding
down numberless blessings on the church and
country, its spirit and bearing were too hostile to
* Lord Moncreifip.



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THE SCOTS WORTHIE S.
lxix




moderatism, and too favourable to the growth of evangelical i to their will.* 3. By prohibiting the communicants of a
principles and popular privileges, to be endured. Agreeably Q congregation from intimating their dissent from a call. 4.
to that act, the presbytery of Irvine had occasion to set;
apart a certain district of the large and populous parish of
Stewarton as a parish guoacl more, and to set “over the
souls” residing within it a minister of the gospel; dis-
turbing no civil arrangement, touching no civil right or
interest, but simply making more ell'ectual provision for
the spiritual good of the people. Certain landed proprie-
tors in the parish taking exception against this proceeding,
brought an action in the Court of Session to have the
church’s competency to do such things disallowed. At the
same time, they sought and obtained an interdict to prohi-
bit the presbytery from proceeding. In consenting to ap-
pear at all in this action before the civil court, the church
insisted on stating, and having it entered on the record of
the court, that she did so, not as acknowledging, but as
expressly disowning the court’s jurisdiction, and that she
would not obey any judgment assuming such jiu'isdiction,
to which the court might come. llaving taken this very
decided step to clear her conduct from all hazard of
being misunderstood, she endeavoured to satisfy the court,
that in passing and enforcing the chapel act, she was sim-
ply exercising a power that was inherent in her constitu-
tion, and had been in constant exercise, as the uninter-
rupted series of precedents adduced might show, from the
Reformation downwards. But all in vain. The act was
disallowed, and that in terms so broad and sweeping, that
one of the judges justly observed, on such a footing, “ we
cannot fancy the act so spiritual, as that the Court of Ses-
sion cannot subvert it.”
Things were now rapidly drawing to a crisis; and what
posterity will remark with interest, and in which they will
see a fresh evidence of the identity of the modern with
the ancient contests of the Church of Scotland; in exact
proportion as the civil courts became more avowed and
unscrupulous in their Erastianism, the church became more
firm, and more unqualified in her assertion of the great
principles at issue. As the civil courts would not suffer
either the principle of non-intrusion to remain to congre-
gations, or the libertyr of “ examination and admission ” of
ministers to remain to presbyteries, under their new



views of the rights of patronage, the church went back
boldly to the ancient and scriptural ground of the first
reformers, and called on parliament to abolish patronage
altogether.
The same Assembly in which the anti-patronage resolution
was adopted, that of 1842, witnessed the adoption of the
“ Claim of Rights,” a document which will take its place
among the most illustrious and memorable of the church’s
many testimonies for “ Christ’s crown and covenant.” In ‘
this singularly able instrument, the Assembly set forth, in
order, the several acts of aggression which the courts of
law had made on the constitution and liberties of the church. i
I. By interdieting presbyteries from admittingr to a pastoral
charge, even where no benefice was concerned. 2. By
issuing a decree requiring and ordainingr a church court to
take a probationcr on trial, and admit him to the office of

By granting interdicts against the establishment of addi-
tional ministers to meet the wants of an increasing popu-
* The Jlrrnoclr. Intrusion—One of the most notable instances of
intrusion during the whole controversy, was that of Mr. Edwards
into the church of Marnoch. The following account of it is abridged
from the “Ten Years’ C0nfiict:”—“On the 4th of January, 1841,
they (the seven suspended Strathbogic ministers,) assembled at
Keith, resolved to proceed with the induction of M r. Edwards, and
agreed to meet at Marnoch for that purpose on the 21st of the same
month. The parish of that name belongs to Banlfshire, and lies a
short way beyond the northern confines of the county of Aberdeen.
Ascending from the Deveron, which bounds it on the south, it
stretches up the rising ground till it reaches the hills which on the
north bank overhang that very beautiful stream. The manse, or
parsonage, nestles in a nook of the valley, with the river on one side,
and sheltering emineuccs on every other. Removed from the old
church-yard, which still occupies a sweet and secluded spot in the
bottom of the valley, the parish church had, sometime before, been
erected on the height above—as if in preparation for its approach-
ing divorce from all the genial sympathies and time-hallowed associa-
tions of the people. The season and the scenery, on the occasion
about to be described, were in striking harmony with the events of
the day. Nature had put on her most wintry aspect; wrapped in
snow, the country looked as cold and chcerlcss as modcratism itself.
Nothing, however, could chill the intensity of feeling which the ex-
pected outrage had awakened,—not in Marnoch alone, but through.
out the whole country round. 'l‘hough the roads had for some days
been all but completely blocked up, the morning of the 21st beheld
dark lines of people struggling in all directions across the whitened
fields, and gradually converging upon the parish church. For that
day, at least, the lonely looking edifice had the promise of an abun-
dant congregation. At least ‘.2000 people stood in a dense mass
around its still unopened doors,--but the agent of the parishioners
made a way without difficulty through the midst of them, for the
emissaries of the court of session. The lower part of the church
having been reserved for the people of Marnoch, the galleries were
instantly filled by strangers from the surrounding parishes: hundreds
of both these classes of persons being compelled, for want of room,
to remain without. The meeting having been constituted by M r.
Thomson, the suspended minister of Keith, as moderator of the
court of session presbytery, Mr. Murray, one of the elders of Mar-
noch, rose, and inquired by whose authority they had met. This
question was repeated by Mr. Duncan, agent for the people of Mar-
noch, but of course no satisfactory answer could be given. When
this fact had been made quite evident, Mr. Duncan read a protest
against the proceedings, signed by 450 commuuicants besides the
elders. Having concluded the reading of these papers, Mr. Duncan
said—‘ As agent for the elders, male heads of families, and communi-
cants of Marnoch, I have only to say that they take no further part
in these unconstitutional proceedings. They wait for a better time
and another court. They can have no further business here; and
they will, I believe, all now accompany me from the church, and leave
you to force a minister on the parish against the people’s, will, but
with scarcely one of the parishioners to witness the deed.’ The scene
that followed was truly touching and impressive. In a body the
parishioners rose, and gathering up the bibles which they had been
wont to leave from Sabbath to Sabbath in the pews, they silently
retired. The deep emotion that prevailed among them was visible
. in the tears which might be seen trickling down runny an old man’s
cheek; and in the flush. more of sorrow than of anger, that rcddcned
| . . .
many a younger mun’s brow.” Driven in this manner from the
church of their fathers, the parishioners of Marnoch resolved that in
no way would they ever recognise as their minister one who had
been forced upon them that day. They appealed to the Christian
public, who took up their cause, not as the cause of a small parish
or an handful of individuals, but the cause of the Christian com.
munity. The Chrfstian people of Scotland did not leave the inhabi-
tants of Marnoch to remain long without a church. The ensuing
summer saw a complete parochial economy given to those who had
the ministry, and intrude him upon a congregation contrary I in so cruel a manner been driven from the house of God.




lXX
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO





lation. 5. By interdicting the preaching of the gospel,
and administration of ordinances, in a Whole district of
country, by any of the ministers and elders commissioned
by the Assembly of the church for that purpose. 6. By
holding the members of inferior church courts liable in
damages, for refusing to disobey the orders of their ecclesi-
astical superiors, to whom they were bound to yield submis-
sion by their ordination vows. 7 . By interdicting the execu-
tion of spiritual sentences pronounced by church courts; by
interdicting the infliction of church censures, by suspending
such censures when pronounced; by maintaining deposed
ministers in their office and functions. 8 By interdicting
members of Assembly from taking their seats in that court,
&c., &c. “ By all which acts, this solemn oflicial document
aflirms, the said Court of Session, apparently not advcrting
to the oath taken by the sovereign from whom they held
their commission, have exercised powers not conferred on
them by the constitution, but by it excluded from the
province of any secular tribunal, have invaded the jurisdic-
tion of the courts of the church, have subverted its govern-
ment, have illegally attempted to coerce church courts in
the exercise of their purely spiritual functions, have usurped
‘the power of the keys ;’ have wrongfully acclaimed, as
the subjects of their civil jurisdiction, to be regulated by
their decrees, ordination of laymen to the office of the holy
ministry, admission to the cure of souls, church censures,
the preaching of the Word, and the administration of the
sacraments; and have employed the means intrusted to
them for enforcing submission to their lawful authority,
—in compelling submission to a power which they have
usurped,-—in opposition to the doctrines of God’s word
set forth in the Confession of Faith, as ratified by statute—-
in violation of the constitution,——in breach of the treaty
of union,—and in disregard of diverse express enactments
of the legislature.”
In this document, breathing the very spirit, as it was
employed in asseiting the very principles of Knox, Melville,
and Henderson, the church further intimated in the plainest
terms, what must be the inevitable consequence of a refusal
on the part of the legislature, to redress the grievances of
which she complained. However much she valued her
connection with the state, and the benefits resulting from
it, she “ must nevertheless,”—these were her solemn words,
—“even at the risk and hazard of the loss of that connec-
tion, and of these public benefits, persevere in maintaining
her liberties as a church of Christ.” And finally, foreseein g
the too probable result of this solemn appeal to the legisla-
ture, in the concluding paragraph of the “ claim of right,”
the Assembly called “the Cln'istian people of this kingdom,
and of all the churches of the reformation throughout the
world, who held the great doctrine of the sole headship of
the Lord Jesus over his church, to witness, that it is for
their adherence to that doctrine, as set forth in their Con-
fession of Faith, and ratified by the laws of this kingdom,
and for the maintenance by them of the jurisdiction of the
oflice-bearers, and the freedom and privileges of the mem-
bers of the church from that doctrine flowing, that this
church is subjected to hardship, and that the rights so
sacredly pledged and secured to her, are put in peril.”

This “ Claim of Right,” adopted by the General Assembly
of 1842 by a majority of nearly two to one, put the whole
controversy between the church and the civil courts before
the legislature, and suspended her continuance as a church
in connection with the state, on the answer her claim should
receive.
The Commission of Assembly which met in October of
the same year, finding that the government, to whom the
Claim of Right had been transmitted, for the purpose of
being laid before her majesty, had pronounced no decision
regarding it, framed and transmitted a memorial, calling
their attention anew to the subject; and at the same time
adopted a petition to both houses of parliament, in which
the substance of the Claim of Right was imbodied, and in
which their early and earnest attention was requested to the
Claim of Right itself.
What followed is well known. First came, in January
1843, a “ state paper ” from the government, repudiating
the church’s claim in the most unequivocal terms. There‘
after, in the month of M arch following, the motion to take
the Claim of Right into consideration, made in the House
of Commons, and most ably supported by the Right Hon.
Fox Maule, was negatived by a large majority, and from
that moment the controversy within the establishment was
at an end.*
Nothing now remained but to arrange the mode in which
the separation from the establishment was to be carried into
effect. For some time previous, indeed, preparations for
this purpose had been in progress. In the month of
November, (1842-) a Convocation of ministers had been
held in Edinburgh, the practical design of which was “to
set their house in order,” and make ready for the impend-
ing disruption. At that convocation resolutions had been
adopted, setting forth, in harmony with the views of the
Claim of Right, the position in which matters stood, point-
ing distinctly to the duty and necessity of abandoning the
establishment, should the redress sought be refused by par-
liament. 'l‘hese resolutions were signed by about 470
ministers: and were imbodied in a very able memorial
which they transmitted to government? From that period,
* In this division, the Scotch Members voted in favour of Mr.
Maule’s motion, in the proportion of two to one.
+ Convocalz'on 0f .7I[z'm'stcrs.—“ The day fixed for the meeting of
the convocation was 'lThursday, the 17th of November, 1842,—the day
immediately succeeding that of the quarterly meeting of the commis-
sion of the general assembly. The convocation sermon was preached
by Dr. Chalmers. "Never, perhaps, was the truth of that inspired
saying of Solomon—‘a word spoken in due season how good is it,’
Prov. xv. 23, more vividly realized than when the preacher gave out
as his text, Psahn cxii. 4,—‘ Unto the upright there ariseth light in
the darkness.’ Every man looked at his neighbour, and exchanged
the silent but strong expression of conscious comfort and encourage-
ment, which the very utterance of these words, at such a moment,
called forth. It was under the hallowing influence of these most
solemn and seasonable services, the convocation sat down. The place
selected for its sit-tings was Itoxburgh church, a small place of
worship in an obscure street, of a rather obscure quarter of the city
of Edinburgh, and which was chosen solely because its limited size
fitted it better than a 1211'}; or church, for such a free and conversa-
tional conference as it was the great object of those who assembled,
to hold with one another. Although it met in the dreary and
wintry month of November, it was attended by 465 ministers, and









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M'WHSSMN ‘Iron s'r ANhlzFx ‘s (HUI-1"".
'l‘HE SCOTS
WORTHIES. lxxi



an active committee, composed of ministers and elders, had
been at work putting things in train for the great movement
now so rapidly approaching.
Every means, consistent with Christian integrity, to avert
the disruption, had been honestly and perseveringly tried,
and tried in vain. The legislature had unequivocally and
peremptorily declared that subjection in all her affairs to
the control of the secular power must henceforth be the
price of the church’s establishment. However painful the
course, the path of duty was clear. At length the memo-
rable 18th of May, l843, arrived. The Assembly that was
destined to take its place in history, side by side with the
Glasgow Assembly of 1638, convened. The moderator,
Dr. Welsh, offered up a solemn prayer; and immediately,
without allowing a single step to be taken, spoke as
follows:

law, and under the civil coercion which has been brought
to bear in the election of commissioners to the Assembly
this day appointed to have been holden, and on the com-
missioners chosen thereto, is not and shall not be deemed
a free and lawful Assembly of the Church of Scotland, ac-
cording to the original and fundamental principles thereof
and that the Claim, Declaration, and Protest of the General
Assembly which convened at Edinburgh, in May, 1842, as
the act of a free and lawful Assembly of the said church,
shall be holden as setting forth the true constitution of the
said church, and that the said Claim, along with the laws
of the church now subsisting, shall in nowise be affected
by whatsoever acts and proceedings of any Assembly eon-
stituted under the conditions now declared to he the law,
and in submission to the coercion now imposed on the
establishment.
“And, finally, * * * we PROTEST that in the circum-
stances in which we are placed, it is and shall be lawful
for us, and such other commissioners chosen to the Assem-
bly appointed to have been this day holden, as may concur
with us, to withdraw to a separate place of meeting, for the
purpose of taking steps, for ourselves and all who adhere
to us, maintaining with us the Confession of Faith and
standards of the Church of Scotland, as heretofore under-
stood,——for separating in an orderly way from the Establish-
ment, and thereupon adopting such measures as may be
competent to us, in humble dependence on God’s grace and
the aid of his Holy Spirit, for the advancement of his glory,
the extension of the gospel of our Lord and Saviour, and
the administration of the affairs of Christ’s house according
to his holy word. And we do new withdraw accordingly,
humbly and solemnly acknowledging the hand of the Lord
in the things which have come upon us, because of our
manifold sins and the sins of this church and nation; but,
at the same time, with an assured conviction that we are
not responsible for any consequences that may follow
from this our enforced separation from an Establishment
which we loved and prized,——through interference with
conscience, the dishonour done to Christ’s crown, and
the rejection of his sole and supreme authority as King in
his church.”
“According to the usual form of procedure, this is the
time for making up the roll; but in consequence of certain
proceedings affecting our rights and privileges, proceedings
which have been sanctioned by her majesty’s government
and by the legislature of the country, and more especially
in respect that there has been an infringement on the
liberties of our constitution, so that we could‘ not now
constitute this court without a violation of the terms of
the union between church and state in this land, as now
authoritatively declared, I must protest against our proceed~
ing further. The reasons that have led me to come to this
conclusion are fully set forth in the document which I hold
in my hand, and which, with permission of the house, I
shall now proceed to read.”*
This protest, read with deep solemnity, recited succinctly
and clearly the substance of the Claim of Right, enumerated
in succession the various fundamental points in which it had
now been conclusively determined by the legislature, that
the church, established by law, must be subject to civil
coercion, and followed up the narration of these with this
formal and deliberate protest, “That the conditions afore-
said, While we deem them contrary to and subversive of
the settlement of church government effected at the Re-
volution, and solemnly guaranteed by the Act of Security
and Treaty of Union, are also at variance with God’s word,
in opposition to the doctrine and fundamental principles
of the Church of Scotland, inconsistent with the freedom
essential to the right constitution of the church of Christ,
and incompatible with the government which He, as the
Head of his church, hath therein appointed distinct from
the civil magistrate.
“And we further PROTEST, that any Assembly consti-
tuted in submission to the conditions now declared to be
these gathered out of every county from Wigton to Caitlmess; and
never, perhaps, did a meeting so large, and occupied with matters
so exciting and dillicult, present a more remarkable exhibition of
unanimity and mutual love. The convocation commenced its sit-
tings, as has been already mentioned, on Thursday, the 17th 'Nov,
and it concluded them on Thursday, the 24th of the same month.
Its deliberations had resulted in the adoption of two sets of resolu-
tions,-the one containing the answer to the question—what is the
grievance ?—the other, the answer to the question—what is the
remedy?”—-Tm Fears’ Conflict, ii. 535, Ste.
‘ Report of Proceedings of Assembly, 1843, in Presbyterian Re- v
Such was the protest, under the sanction of which
nearly 200 members of Assembly withdrew from the
Establishment? and immediately thereafter, in presence
"1' Tile Procession—“As those who led it on emerged into the
strcet,—as the gown and hands of the moderator, the grey hairs of
the massive head of Chalmers, and the majestic brow of Gordon,
seen through the opening crowd, proclaimed that the deed was done,
—a whisper ran like wildfire through the congregated multitudes,
“They come! they come!”~—and the air was rent with the shout
of admiration and gratitude with which the people gave Scotland’s
welcome to the defenders of the liberties of Scotland’s church.
It was neither the design nor the wish of the protesting body to
move in procession to their intended place of meeting, but the
crowd constrained them. By a spontaneous movement on the
part of the masses who filled the streets, a lane was opened in their
midst,—and through the surging sea of the excited but profoundly
respectful throng, did the host pass out of Egypt, to take possession
of that “large and wealthy place ” which the Lord had provided for
them. In the manner new described, the procession moved on
i towards Canonmills, a suburb lying at the northern extremity of




lxxii
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION’ TO THE SCOTS WORTHIES.


of an assemblage of not fewer than 3000 individuals, 0011- l
stituted, in Canomrrills Hall, the first Assembly of the
Free Church of Scotland. To this protest there adhered
465 ministers of the Establishment, upwards of 200 pro-
bationers, together with an overwhelming majority of the
elders. The banner thus uplifted for “ Christ’s Crown and
the city. Here an immense hall, capable of accommodating at least
3000 persons, had been procured, and hastily fitted up for the recep-
tion of the disestablished assembly. From an early hour of the
day, the entire area, with the exception of the space set apart for the
members, was crowded in every part,—and when at length the
eagerly expected moment arrived, and the representatives of the
protesting church were seen entering the hall, the enthusiasm of the
audience knew no bounds. When this irrepressible outburst of
feeling had subsided, Dr. Welsh, who had meanwhile taken the chair,
rose and lifted up his hands as the signal for prayer. No one who
was present on that memorable occasion can forget, while he lives,
the thrilling pathos and overpowering solemnity of that prayer. It
carried back the mind to the days of the Redeemer’s flesh,-—whcn
lie, the church’s now exalted Head and Lord, Himself dwelt on
ea1'tli,—and when, upon the mountain side, or by the shores of the
sea of Galilee, with no covering but the canopy of heaven above
those who followed Him, He had preached the gospel of the grace of
God: and it sought that His presence might be with His servants
Covenant” has been followed by nearly a million of the
Scottish people formerly connected with the Established
Church.*
Such is a brief summary of the great contest which has
rent the Establishment asunder. The substantial identity
of the principles for which it was maintained with those
of the Scots Worthies, is so manifest that “ he who runs
may read.”
* Ministers Signing Deed of D6Hli\8i0)l.—Tll(3 first Free Church
Assembly having been duly constituted, and the clerks appointed, the
Rev. Dr. Patrick lll‘Farlan thereupon proposed the appointment of a
committee to consider in what way, consistently with the forms of
law, the individual protesting ministers could best, and most speedily,
complete the renunciation of their benefices. A deed of ])emission
having been prcpa-'ed—“ One after another, as their names were
called, the protesting ministers advanced to the table, and atlixed,
with an unt'altering hand, their names to a deed by which they
renounced their earthly all. The first signature after the name of
the illustrious moderator, was that of the venerable Dr. Muirhead of
Cramond, who was ordained in the year 1788. From ltobertsonian
moderatism to Chalmers and the Free church,——his ministry had
reached from the one to the other,—and the youngest of his breth-
ren did not march forth from the dishonourcd and enslaved esta-
blishment more resolutely than he. Onwards, from noon till late

now, when they too were about to go forth into the open fields,
compelled to forsake the pleasant tabernacles of their fathers, in l
in the evening, did the signing of this document incessantly proceed.
Including a few who afterwards gave in their adherence to this deed,
order to maintain unbroken their fathers’ testimony for Christ’s 474 ministers completed, by means of this solemn legal instrument.
covenant and crown."—-Ten Years’ Conflict, ii. 600
2 their separation from the establishment.”




JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.

THE design of the following work is, to
collect from the best authorities, a sum-
mary account of the lives and contendings
of some of our most RENOWNED SCOTS
VVORTHIES, who, for their faithful services,
ardent zeal, constancy in suffering, and
other Christian graces and virtues, deserve
amost honourable memorial in the church
of Christ ;—and whose names will be
savoury to all the true lovers of our Zion,
while Reformation principles are regarded
in Scotland.
Having for some time had a desire to
see something of this kind published; but
finding nothing from the press, except a
few broken accounts interspersed through-
out different and sometimes rare publica-
tions, I formed the resolution to collect
into one volume, a concise account of the
lives of as many of our Scots \Vorthies as
could be obtained, from such of the histo-
rical records. biographical accounts, and
other authenticated manuscripts, as might
be accessible. Such a work, it was thought,
would not only prove more useful, in giv-
ing the reader the pleasure of viewing the
\Vorthies all at once, but, at the same time,
would be free from the inconveniences to
which small pamphlets are liable.
In this publication, it is not pretended to ,
i: London.
give an account of all our Scots \Vorthies: the
following considerations will show that this
would be a task altogether impracticable :
1. There have been many, of different
ranks and degrees of men, famous in the

I
l
I
l
l
church of Scotland, of whom little more is
mentioned in history than their names,
places of abode, and age in which they
existed. Again, there are many others,
of whom the most that can be said is only
a few faint hints, which of necessity must
render their lives (if they may be properly
so called) very imperfect, from what they
might have been, had they been written
a century ago, when their actions and
memoirs were fresh and recent; and when
they might have been confirmed by many
incontestable evidences that are not now
available, especially as there is a chasm in
our history during the time of the Usurper ;
not to mention how many of our national
‘ records were about that time altogether
l lost.*
2. There are others both in the reform-
ing and suffering periods, of whom some-
what is recorded, and yet not sufficient to
‘ form a narrative; so that, except in short
relations, or marginal notes, their lives
cannot be written. It is with regret that
the publishers have to declare, that, upon
*5 “ Of these records belonging to the state,
carried away by Cromwell, to secure our depend-
ence on England, there were eighty-five hogsheads
lost, December 18, 1660, in a ship belonging to
Kirkcaldy, as she was returning with them from
And as for the church records and re_
gisters, a great many of them also, (either through
the confusion of the then civil wars, or falling into
the hands of the prelates, while prelacy prevailed
in Scotland) are an1issing.”—Preface to Stevenson’s
History.
A


‘J JOHN HOWIE’S PREE ACE.



application to several places for farther
information concerning these worthy men,
they could find little or nothing (except a
few things by way of oral tradition), the re-
gisters being, through course of time, either
designedly or through negligence, lost.
3. A few of the lives already in print,
being somewhat prolix, required to be
abridged ; and this is done in a manner as
comprehensive as possible, so that nothing
material is omitted: it is hoped, at least,
that there are no such omissions as to be in
any way injurious to the memory of these
worthy men.
In reference to the utility of this work,
let it be remarked, that biography, in
general, is one of the most entertaining
parts of history ; and how much more, the
lives and transactions of our NOBLE SCOTS
WORTHIES, in which is contained, not only
a short account of the testimony and
wrestlings of the church for nearly 200
years, indeed from the introduction of
Christianity into Scotland‘; but also a great
variety of other matters, both instructive
and entertaining, which must at once edify
and refresh the serious and understanding
reader. For,
1. In these lives we have a short view of
the actions, virtues, and some of the failings
of our ancestors, set forth as examples for
our caution and imitation ; and thus, by the
experience, and at the expense of former
ages, we may learn important lessons for
our conduct in life, both in faith and man-
ners, and for furnishing ourselves with the
like Christian armour of zeal, faithfulness,
holiness, steadfastness, meekness, patience,
humility, and other graces.
2. In them we behold, what the wisest
of men could not think on without astonish-
ment, “ that God does in very deed dwell
with men upon earth ;” nay more, that he
dealeth “ so familiarly with them, as to '

displaying his divine power, and the efficacy
of his grace, through their infirmities; sub-
duing the most hardened sinners to him-
self; while he, as it were, resigns himself to
their prayers, and makes them the subjects
of his divine care and superintendence.
3. Here we have, as in a mirror, set
forth all the virtues and duties of a reli-
gious and domestic life—Here is the
example of a virtuous nobleman, an active
statesman, a religious gentleman, a faithful
and assiduous minister in the exercise of his
office, “instant in season and out of sea-
son,” a wise and diligent magistrate, “ one
fearing God, and hating covetousness,” a
courageous soldier, a good christian, a lov~
ing husband, an indulgent parent, a faithful
friend in every exigence; and, in a word,
almost every character worthy of our imi~
tation. And,
4. In them we have the different changes
and varieties of soul-exercise, the experi-
ences, savoury expressions, and last words,
of those once living, now glorified, wit-
nesses for Christ. And “ if the last speeches
of men are remarkable, how much more
valuable then must be the last words
and dying expressions of these NOBLE
WITNESSES and MARTYRS for Christ!” For,
the nearer the dying saint is to heaven,
and the more of the presence of Christ
he has in his last moments, when death
looks him in the face, the more interest
ing will his conversation be to survi~
vors, and particularly to real christians ;
because all that he says is supported by
example, which exerts a strong influence
upon the human mind—It is true, there is
an innate evil in man’s nature, that makes
him more prone to follow bad than good
examples ; yet sometimes, nay often, there
is a kind of compulsive energy arising from
the good examples of such as are eminent
either in place or godliness, leading others
make them previously acquainted with his I to imitate them in their graces and virtues.
secret designs, both of judgment and mercy, 1 We find that the children of Israel followed



JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 3



the Lord all the days of Joshua, and the
elders that outlived him ; and Christ’s har~
binger, John the Baptist, prevailed as much
by his example as by his teaching. His
apparel, his diet, his conversation, pro-
claimed his holiness. Nazianzen saith of
him, “ That he cried louder by the holiness
of vhis life, than by the sincerity of his doc-
trine.” And had it not been so, the apostle
would not-have thus exhorted the Philip-
pians, “ Brethren, be followers together of
me, and mark them which walk so, as ye
have us for an ensample,” &c., chap. 17.
-—And so says the apostle James, “ Take,
my brethren, the prophets who have spoken
in the name of the Lord, for an ensample.”
chap. v. 10. There is no doubt, indeed,
that next to the down-pouring of the Spirit
from on high, the rapid and admirable
success of the gospel, both in primitive
times, and in the beginning of our reforma-
tions from popery and prelacy, must have
been owing to the simple, holy and ex-
emplary lives of its preachers and pro-
fessors. Henry, a learned expositor, ob-
serves, “ that ministers are likely to preach
most to the purpose, when they can press
their hearers to follow their example.”
WVithout this the church of Christ is so far
from gaining ground in the world, that it
loses what it has already gained,—of which
the church of Scotland is a melancholy
proof. The truth can gain no credit
from the mouths of men whose character
is despicable, whose authority is lost, and
whose example goes for nothing! So
there is reason to hope, that no small
advantage, through the divine blessing,
may accrue to the public from biography
in general, and from the lives of our SCOTS
\VORTHIES in particular, if the following
cautions be only observed :—
1. That we are not to sit down or rest
ourselves upon the person, principle, or
practice of any man, even the best saint we
have ever read or heard of. but only to 1

seek these gifts and graces that most
eminently shine forth in him.—Pijeceptis,
non ewemplis, standum ; i. e. “ we must
not stand by examples, but precepts.” It
is the peculiar honour of Jesus Christ to
be worthy of absolute imitation; and for
us to idolize any man, by making him our
pattern in every instance, were nothing
else than to pin our faith upon his sleeve.
The apostle to the Corinthians gives a very
good caveat against this, when he says,
"‘ Be ye followers (or, as the Dutch anno—
tators translate, ‘ Be ye imitators’) of me
as I am of Christ.”
2. That We are not, on the other hand,
to dwell too much upon the faults or fail-
ings that have sometimes been discovered
in God’s dear children; but at the same
time to consider, that while they were
eminent men of God, they were also the
sons of Adam: for it is possible for good
men not only to fall themselves, but, When
striking against the errors and enormities
of others, to overreach the mark, and go
beyond the bounds of propriety ;—perfection
being no inherent plant in this life: for,
says the apostle, “ they are earthen vessels,
men of like passions with you,” &c., 2 Cor.
iv. 7 ; Acts xiv. 15.
And now in reference to the motives
prompting to this publication. Was there
ever a time, since the reformation com-
mencedin Scotland, that stood in more need
of useful, holy, and exemplary lives being set
before it? It is a debt due to the ‘Vor-
thies themselves. For it is not long since
Bishops Spottiswood, Guthrie, and Burnet
(not to mention some English historians),
in their writings, clothed the actions of our
ancestors, both in the reforming and suffer-
ing period, in a most grotesque and fan-
tastic dress, on account of which their names
have been loaded with reproach, sarcasm,
and seurrility ; and, as if this had not been
enough, to expose them, in rendering them,
and their most faithful conterdin gs, odious,



4 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.



some modern writers in the “Edinburgh !
Monthly Review” for February, 1774,
have set also to the work of misrepresenting
them, placing them in such a dishonourable
light, that to which, even the above-men-
tioned historians, yea, their most avowed
enemies, in their own day, would have
scarcely subscribed. T 0 such a length is
poor degenerate Scotland arrived! And
is it not high time to follow the wise man’s
advice, “ Open thy mouth for the dumb, in
the cause of all such as are appointed to
destruction?” Prov. xxxi. 8.
Again, the present state of the church
proves the necessity of this publication.
How many degrees we have descended
from the merit of our Renowned Fore-
fathers, may be shown by running a parallel
betwixt their contendings and attainments,
and our present national defections and
backsliding courses, in the following parti-
culars :—
Our venerable Reformers were not only
highly instrumental, in the Lord’s hand,
in bringing a people out of the abyss of
gross popish darkness, under which they
had for a long time continued, but also
brought themselves under most solemn and
sacred vows to the Most High; and when-
ever they were to set about any further
piece of reformation in their advancing
state, they renewed their engagements.
They strenuously asserted the divine right
of Presbytery, the headship of Clnist, and
the intrinsic rights of his church; and, in
the reign of James VL, suffered much
on that account—They lifted arms once i
and again in the reign of Charles I., and
never ceased until they got uniformity in
doctrine, worship, discipline, and church
government, established in the three king-
doms ; wherefore both church and state were
enabled to exert themselves in rooting out
every error and heresy whatever, until they
obtained a. complete settlement according I
to the word of God, and our covenants estab-

lished thereon. By several excellent Acts
both civil and ecclesiastic,* these covenants
became afterwards the MAGNA CHARTA of
these realms, with respect to every civil and
religious privilege; none being admitted
into any office or employment in church
| or state, without scriptural and covenant
qualifications. And then was that part of
the ancient prophecy fulfilled, “ In the
wilderness shall waters break forth, and
streams in the desert,—and the isles shall
wait for his law.” Christ then reigned
gloriously in Scotland. His church appear-
ed “ beautiful as Tirzah, comely as Jeru-
.salem: for, from the utmost parts were
heard songs, even glory to the righteous.”
And although Charles II., and a set of
wicked counsellors, overturned the whole
fabric of that once glorious structure of
reformation, openly divested the Son of
God of his headship in and over his own
church, as far as human laws could do,
burned these solemn covenants by the
hands of the hangman, and by act of par-
liamentiL made it high treason to own them;
yet even then the seed of the church pro-
duced a remnant, who kept the word of
Christ’s patience, stood in defence of’ the
truth in face of all opposition, and that to
the effusion of the last drop of their blood.
“ These two prime truths, Christ’s head-
ship and our covenants, were in the mouths
of all our late Martyrs, when they mounted
their bloody theatres ;” and in the comfort
of suffering on such clear grounds, and for
such valuable truths, they went triumph-
ing off the stage of time into eternity.
But alas I how have we, their degenerate
and renegade posterity, followed their ex-
ample or traced their steps ; yea, we have
*f See Act v. Parl. 1640 ; Act v. 1644 ; Act xv.
1649; Acts of the General Assembly, Sess. 26,
1638; Sess. 23, 1659; Sess. 6, 1642; Sess. ult.
1647; Sess. 31, 1648, &c.
1“ Act v. Sess. l, Parl. 1. James VII. See
James VII. and William and Mary’s Acts of Par—
liament abridged, p. 42.


JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 5


,-_,—~-
rather served ourselves heirs to those who
persecuted and killed them, by our long
accession to their perjury and apostasy, in
a general and avowed denial of our most
solemn vows and oaths of allegiance to
Jesus Christ. To mention nothing more
of the total extermination of our ancient
and laudable constitution, during the reign
of the two tyrants, with the many grave-
stones cast thereon by the acts rescissory,
and claim of right at the Revolution,
whereby we have in a national capacity
declared ourselves to be on another footing
than that of the once famous covenanted
church of Scotland. How many are the
defections and eneroachments annually
and daily made upon our most valuable
rights and privileges! For since the Re—
volution, the duty of national covenanting
has not only been slighted and neglected,
and ridiculed by some, but leading church-
men, in their writingsj’t have had the
effrontery to impugn the very obligation of
these covenants, asserting that there is
little or no warrant for national covenant-
ing under the New Testament dispensation:
and what awful attacks since that time
have been made upon the rights of our
Redeemer, notwithstanding some trifling
acts made to the contrary. Witness, for
example, the civil magistrate still retaining
his old usurped power, in calling and dis-
solving the supreme judicatories of the
church; yea, sometimes to an indefinite
period; likewise appointing diets of fasting
and thanksgiving to be observed, under
fines and other civil pains, besides imposing
oaths, acts, and statutes upon churchmen,
under pain of ecclesiastical censure, or
other Erastian penalties. Instead of the
observance of our covenants, an unhallowed
* Such as Messrs Currie, Ferguson, and Smith
of Newburn, &'c., who, in order to palliate and ex-
tenuate the evil of the present backsliding courses,
seem to have left no stone unturned, to expose or
blackenthe reforming period.

union is gone into with England, whereby
our rights and liberties are infringed on not
a little: lordly patronage, which was cast
out of the church in her purest times, is
now restored and cruelly practised: a tole-
ration bilk"= is granted, whereby almost
every error, heresy, and delusion, appear
triumphant; prelacy is become fashiona-
ble, and we are in as much danger of
popery as ever ;t Socinian and deistical
tenets only are in vogue with the wits of
the age; sol/i rationi cedo, “ I yield to reason
only,” the old Porphyrian maxim having
* Although toleration principles be now espoused,
boasted of, and gloried in by many, yea, by some
from whom other things might be expected, yet it
is contrary to scripture. See Gen. xxxv. 2, &c.;
Deut. xiii. 6; Judg. ii. 2; Ezek. xliii. 8 ; Prov.
xvii. 15; Zech. xiii. 2; Rom. xiii. 6 ; Rev. ii. 14,
&c. And how far the civil magistrate is to exert
his power in punishing heretics, I shall not at pre-
sent determine; or whether the word extirpate in
our solemn league and covenant extends to the tem-
poral, or spiritual sword only, there are different
sentiments and expositions on the subject ; yet sure
I am, according to the nature of things, that that
which is morally good, being a commanded duty,
needs no toleration ; and to that which is morally
evil, no mortal on earth canlawfully grant immunity;
and betwixt these there is no medium in point of
truth and duty. And it is observable, that where
toleration, or toleration principles prevail, real re-
ligion never prospers much. And besides, it is of
woful consequence ; for, as in natural bodies anti-
pathy of qualities causes destruction, so in bodies
politic, different religions, or ways of worship in re-
ligion, cause many divisions and distractions.
whereby the seamless coat of Christ is like to be
torn in pieces; and this oftentimes terminates in the
ruin of the whole. “ For, a kingdom, city, or house
divided against itself, cannot stand.” And yet
some will say that toleration is a good thing, for
by it people may live as good as they please. I
answer,—-it is true; but they may also live as bad
as they please ; and that we have liberty and free-
dom to serve God in his own appointed way, we
have him primarily to thank for it, as for all his
other mercies and goodness towards us.
1- Witness the Quebec Act for establishing
popery in Canada, 1777,—the catholic bills grant-
ing a toleration to papists in England and Ireland,
1778, with the gloomy aspect that affairs bear to
Scotland since that time.



6
JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.




so far gained the ascendancy at present,
that reason (at least pretenders to it, who
must needs hear with their eyes, and see
with their ears, and understand with their
elbows, till the order of nature be inverted) 1
threatens not a little to banish revealed i
. Arminian and Pelagian schemes be now taught and
religion and its most important doctrines
out of the world. A latitudinarian scheme
prevails among the majority; the greater
part, with the Athenians, spending their
time only to hear and see something new,
“ gadding about to change their ways, going
in the ways of Egypt and Assyria, to drink
the water of Shichor and the river ;” unsta-
ble souls, like so many light combustibles
caught by the eddies of a whirlwind, and
tossed hither and thither till utterly dissi-
pated. The doctrine of original sin* is by
many denied; many are pulling down the
very hedges of church-government, refusing
all church standards, covenants, creeds,
and confessions, whether of our own or of
other churches; yea, and national churches
also, as being all of them carnal, hmnan,
or antichristian inventions, such being
contrary to Scripture, particularly 2 Tim.
i. 13, “ hold fast the form of sound words.’7
Besides, the old Pelagian and Arminian
errors appear again upon the stage; the
merit of the creature, free will, and good
it This doctrine of original sin is plainly evinced
from scripture, canonical and apocryphal; Job xiv.
4; Psal. ii. 5; Rom. v. 12, &c.; 1 Cor. xv. 21 ;
John iii. 6: Apocrypha, Eccles. xxv. 26 ; asserted
in our churchustandards, illustrated and defended
by many able divines, both ancient and modern,
and by our British poets excellently described.
Thus :——
“ Adam, now ope thine eyes, and first behold
Th’ effects which thy original crime hath wrought
In some, to spring from thee, who never touch’d
Th’ excepted tree, nor with the snake eonspir’d,
Nor sinn’d thy sin ; yet from that sin derive
Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds.”
Paradise Lost, Lib. ix.
“ Conceiv’d in sin, (0 wretched state,)
Before we draw our breath :
The first young pulse begins to beat
Iniquity and death.”--Dr Watts.


l
1
works,* being taught from the press and
pulpit almost every where, to the utter
discarding of free grace, Christ’s imputed
righteousness, and the power of true god-
* However much these leading articles in the
applauded, yet sure they are God-dishonouring and
soul-ruining tenets, contrary to scripture, God’s
covenants, and eversive of man’s salvation. For,
(1.) They are contrary to scripture, which
teaches us that we are not less dependent in work-
ing than in being, and no more capable to act from
a principle of life of ourselves, than to exist ;
“ The way of man is not in himself: it is not in
man that walketh to direct his steps. What best
thou, O man, but what thou hast received? How
to perform that which is good I find not.” Jer. x.
‘.23; 1 Cor. iv. 7; Rom. vii. l8. “ So that a man
can do nothing, except it be given him from above ;
and no man can come unto me, except the Father
draw him,” saith Christ, John iii. 27 ; vi. 44; see
Conf. ch. ix. sect. 3; Articles of the Church of
England, Art. 10. And for good works, however
far they may be acceptable to God in the way of
approvance, as being conformable to his command,
and agreeable to the holiness of his nature, yet we
are assured from his word, that moral rectitude, in
its very summit, can never render one acceptable
in his sight in a justifying way ; “ for by the works
of the law shall no flesh be justified ; not by works
of righteousness which we have done,” 8cc., Rom.
ii. 28; Gal. ii. 16; Tit. iii. 5. For, though good
works, or gospel obedience and true holiness, be
absolutely necessary to salvation, as being the
fruits and evidences of a true and lively faith in
every believer, the greatest saint being the best
moralist ; yet these are in no way meritorious for
man’s salvation: No! this depends upon God’s
eternal purposes, Rom. ix. ll ; Eph. i. 4. WVe find
it often said in scripture, that it shall be rendered
to every man according to his works, Rom iii. 6 ;
Rev. xxii. 12, &c., but never for his works: yea,
works, though otherwise materially good in them-
selves, in an unregenerate man become sinful before
God, “ for whatsoever is not of faith is sin,” Rom.
xiv. ‘23; although the emitting of them be more
dishonouring to him, Rom. viii. 8; Psal. xxvi. 5 ;
Matt. xxiii. 23. See also Conf. eh. xvi. sect. 2, 3, 7.
And so Luther, Calvin, Diodati, Beza, Perkins,
Fisher, Flavel, Owen, Simpson, Binning, Dickson,
Gray, Rutherford, Durham, Gillespie, Guthrie,
Renwick, Pool, Henry, Halyburton, Boston, Mar<
shall, and many others.
(-2.) They are opposed to reason, and strike emi-
nently against the very nature of God’s covenant :



JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 7



liness. All these pernicious errors were
expunged, and cast over the hedge, by our
reforming forefathers: and is it not highly
requisite, that their faithful contendings,
orthodox and exemplary lives, should be
for, according to the tenor of the covenant of
works, nothing but perfect, personal, and perpetual
obedience can merit (if any thing in a degenerate
creature may be so called) ; and can any reasona-
ole man look his own conscience in the face and
say, that he is the person that can perform this?
Again, if we betake ourselves to the covenant of
grace, reason itself might blush and be ashamed,
once to suppose that the blood of the immaculate
Son of God stood in any need of the addition of
man’s imperfect works, in order to complete salva-
tion.—See Catechising on the Heidelburg Cate-
chism on question lii., page 180; Blackwall’s Ratio
sacra, page 17, 8zc.
(3.) They must be very dangerous, soul-ruining,
and Christ-dishonouring errors; for it might be
counted altogether superfluous for a person to come
to a physician for a cure, while he is not in ‘the
least suspicious of being infected with any malady.
So in like manner, can it be expected that any
sinner can cordially come, or be brought, to Christ,
without a due sense of his infinite distance from
God by nature? of theimpossibility of making any
suitable approaches to him ? and of the utter disa-
bility to do any thing that may answer the law,
holiness, and righteousness of God. “For they
that be whole need not a physician,” saith Christ,
“ and I came, not to call the righteous, but sinners
to repentance,” Mark ix. 12.
From hence observe, that whosoever intends to
forsake his sin, in order to come to Christ, or
effectually to correct vice, before he believes on
him, must meet with a miserable disappointment ;
for “ without faith it is'impossible to please God,”
Heb. xi. 6. Like one following an z'gnz'sfaz‘uus
through a quagmire, he will in the end sink himself
into an immense and bottomless chaos of uncertain-
ties. “ No man cometh to the Father but by me, and
without me ye can do nothing,” says Christ himself,
.lohn xiv. 6; xv. 5; the love of God being the
prz'ma causa ; the obedience and meritorious right-
eousness of Christ, the foundation, source and
spring of man's salvation, and all true happiness ;
“for by grace ye are saved,” Eph. ii. 8. And
whosoever has been made rightly to know any-
thing of the depravity of his nature in a fallen
state, or experienced anything of the free grace of
God in Christ, will be made to acknowledge this,
“ That it is God that worketh in us both to will
and to do of his good pleasure,” Phil. ii. 13. And

copied out before us, when walking so re-
pugnant to “ acknowledging the God of
our fathers, and walking before him with a
perfect heart?”
Again, if We institute a comparison be-
yet I know it is objected, that it is highly dis-
honouring to the Author of nature, to argue man
to be such a mean and insuflicient creature, and
that it can never be supposed, that a gracious and
merciful God would make such a number of intelli-
gent beings to damn them, or command a sinner to
repent and come to Christ, and condemn him for not
doing it, if it were not in his own power upon moral
suasion to obey, 8:0. It is true, indeed, that in
comparison with the irrational insect and inanimate
creation, man is a noble creature, both as to his
formation and his intellectual parts ; but much
more in his primeval state and dignity, when all the
faculties of the mind and powers of the soul stood
entire, being endued, not only with animal and in-
telligent, but also heavenly life : “ Thou hast
made him a little lower than the angels,” Psal. viii.
5. But then, in what follows, these objectors seem,
either inadvertently or willingly, to have for-
got, (1.)“ That man in honour abideth not,” Psal.
xlix. 12 ; or as the Rabbins read, and some translate
it,as Cartwright, Ainsworth, Leigh, and Broughton,
“ Adam in honour abideth not one night.” Adam,
by his disobedience, not only introduced a jarring
into the whole creation, and rendered his posterity
decrepit and lame ; but also lost all power to do any
spiritual good, the whole of his intellectual parts
being either corrupted, darkened, obliterated, or
lost. Indeed, Dr Taylor would have us believe,
that what Adam lost, and even more, was restored
to Noah, Gen. ix. ; and that man’s mental capacities
are now the same as Adam’s in innocence, saving
so far as God sees fit to set any man above or be—
low his standard ; some are below Adam in rational
endowments, and some are above him : of the
latter he thinks Sir Isaac Newton was one. (Doc-
trine of Original Sin, p. 235, Supplement, p. 8.5.)
The fallacy of this opinion is so obvious and absurd,
that it deserves no remarks ; for, every one, to his
dear bought experience, may know, that man now,
assisted by all the dark remains of original, moral,
and political knowledge he is master'of, can acquire
no certain knowledge of any part of his duty, as to
moral good or evil, but by a gradation of laborious,
slow, and multiplied deductions ; and much less is
be able to bind the strong man and cast him out.
And yet all this is no way dishonouring to the
great Author of nature as to the works of his hands:
for, although he made him at first, he made him not
originally a sinful man; so that it is our sin that is



8 JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.



tween the practice of those men whose
lives are the subject of this work, and our
present prevailing temper and disposition,
dishonouring to him. “ Lo, this have I found out,”
says the wisest of men, “ that God at first made
man upright, but he sought out many inventions.”
(2.) That, in a proper sense, God neither made
man to save nor to damn him, but only for his
pleasure, and the manifestation of his own power
and glory, Rev. 1v. ll ; Conf. oh. i. sect. 3. (3.)
Although we have lost power to obey, yet he still
retains his right to demand obedience ; and nothing
can be more suitable to the justice. wisdom, and
sovereignty of God than to maintain his right to
perfect obedience from man, whom he originally
endued with all power and abilities for what he
commanded; neither is he in any way bound to
restore that power again to man, which he by his
disobedience lost. (4.) All mankind by the fall
were condemned by God’s judicial act, “ In the
day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die,”
Gen. .ii. 17. And you will say a judge does a
malefactor'no injury in condemning him, when by
the law he is found guilty of death ; and, “ cursed
is every one who continueth not in all the Words of
this law to do them,” Deut. xxvii. '26; and much
less the supreme Judge of all who can do nothing
wrong to any, in condemning man ; "for the wages‘
of sin is death,” Rom. vi. l3 ; “ and hath not the
potter power over the clay?” &c.—And finally, if
the first Adam's posterity be thus naturally endued
with the power to do that which is spiritually good,
pray what need was there for the second Adam to
die to quicken his elect? Eph. ii. 1. Indeed, we
are commanded to repent, and turn from our ini»
quities ; “turn ye, turn ye, and live,” Ezek. xxxiii.
ll ; and ye “ will not come unto me that ye might
have life,” John v. 40; but who, except a bold
Arminian, will say, that these texts imply a natural
power in man to turn, come or not as he pleases.
if this were the case, the same Spirit of God would
not have said elsewhere, “Draw us, and we will
run after thee ; turn thou us, and we shall be turn-
ed," Cant. i. 4; Jer. xxxi. 18; “surely after I
was turned, Irepented,” ver. 19 ; “it was not be
fore I was turned, I repented ;” no, this command
and complaint only point out our duty; but the
prayers and promises in the word show us our
ability for the performance thereof. And yet after
all, proud ignorant man must needs be his own
Saviour, and if God say not so too, Cain will be
wroth, and his countenance fall, Gen. iv. 5. But
“let the potsherds strive with the potsherds of the
earth, but wo unto him that striveth with his
Maker."

we will find how much they are at variance.
with one another. How courageous and
zealous were they for the cause and honour
of Christ! How cold and lukewarm are
we, of whatever sect or denomination!
How willing were they to part with all for
him! and what honour did many of them
count it to suffer for his name ! How
unwilling are we to part with any thing
for him, much less to suffer such hardships
for his sake! Of that we are ashamed,
which they counted their ornament; ac_
counting that our glory which they looked
on as a disgrace ! How easy it was for them
to choose the greatest suffering, rather
than the least sin ! How hard is it for us to
refuse the greatest sin, in preference to
the least suffering! How active were they
for the glory of God and the good of souls,
and diligent to have their own evidences
clear for heaven! But how little concern
have we for the cause of Christ, his work
and interest, and how dark are the most
part with respect to their spiritual state
and duty! They were sympathizing chris-
tians; but alas! how little fellow-feeling
is to be found among us: it is rather, “ Stand
by, for I am holier than thou.” Oh! that
their christian virtues, constant fidelity,
unfeigned love, unbiassed loyalty to Zion’s
King and Lord, could awaken us from our
neutrality and supine security, wherein, in-
stead of imitating their goodness, we have,
by our defections and vicious courses, in-
vited neglect and contempt on ourselves,
being, as a philosopher once observed of
passionate people,-——they are like men stand-
ing on their heads, who see all things the
wrong way ;~—giving up with the greater
part of the rights and liberties, which were
most esteemed by our RENOWNED PROGENI-
ToRS——“ the treacherous dealers have dealt
treacherously.”
And if we shall add to all these, in
our progressing and increasing apostasy,
our other heinous land-crying sins and



JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.
9


____._
enormities, which prevail and increase
among all ranks and denominations of men;
few mourning over the low state of our
Zion, and the daily decay of the interest of
Christ and religion: then we not only may
say, as the poet in Oedipus said of the men
of Athens and Thebes, “ that we live only
in fable, and nothing remains of ancient
Scotland but the name,” but also take up
this bitter complaint and lamentation, “ Ah!
Scotland, Scotland! ‘ How is the gold
become dim, how is the most fine gold
changed!’ Ah! where is the God of
Elijah, and where is his glory! Where is
that Scottish zeal that once flamed in the
breasts of thy nobility, barons, ministers,
and commoners of all sorts! Ah! where
is that true courage and heroic resolution
for religion and the liberties of a nation,
that did once animate all ranks in the land !
Alas! alas! true Scots blood now runs
cool in our veins ! The cloud is now gone
up in a great measure from off our assem-
blies; because we have deserted and relin-
quished the Lord’s most noble cause and
testimony, by a plain, palpable, and per-
petual course of backsliding,-—‘ the crown
is fallen from our head, wo unto us, for we
have sinned !’ ”
And surely we may say of these our
times, with as much propriety as Mr

Davidson, one of the \Vorthies, said of,
theirs, in a letter to the General Assembly, .
1601, “ Quam graviter ingemescerent iZZi
fortes viri qui ecclesice Scotiance pro
Zibertate in acie decertarunt, si nostram
mine ignavia-m (ne quid gravitas dicam)
coitspicerent ;” i. e. “ How grievously would
they bewail our stupendous slothfulness,
could they but behold it, who of old thought
no expense of blood and treasure too much
for the defence of the church of Scotland’s
liberties.” Or, to use the words of another’?
in the persecuting period, “ were it possible
in the Bass.

that our reformers (and, we may add, our
late martyrs), who are entered in among
the glorious choristers in the kingdom of
heaven, tuning their melodious harps about
the throne of the Lamb, might have a
furlough for a short time, to take a view of
their apostatizing children, what may we
judge would be their conceptions of these
courses of defection, so far repugnant to
the platform laid down in that glorious work
of reformation.” For, if innocent Hamilton,
godly and patient Wishart, apostolic Knox,
eloquent Rollock, and worthy Davidson,
the courageous Melvills, prophetic Welch,
majestic Bruce, great Henderson, renown-
ed Gillespie, learned Binning, pious Gray,
laborious Durham, heavenly-minded Ruth-
erford, the faithful Guthries, diligent Blair,
heart-melting Livingston, religious Well-
wood, orthodox and practical Brown, zea-
lous and steadfast Cameron, honest-hearted
Cargill, sympathizing M‘Ward, persevering
Blackadder, the evangelical Traills, con-
stant and pious Renwick, &c., “ were filed
off from the assembly of the first-born, and
sent as commissioners from the mount of
God, to behold how quickly their offspring
are gone out of the way, piping and dancing
after a golden calf,~—Ah ! with what vehe—
mence would their spirits be affected, to
see their laborious structure almost razed
to the foundation, by those to whom they
committed the custody of the word of their
great Lord’s patience: they in the mean
time sheltering themselves under the shadow
of fig-tree-leaf distinctions, which will not
sconce against the wrath of an angry God
in the cool of the day.”
And, finally. what can have a more
gloomy aspect in the midst of these evils,
(with many more that might be noticed),
“ when our pleasant things are laid waste,”
than to see such scenes of strife and divi-
sion displayed and maintained among
. . . . i 's ’ Q ' or '
Mr John Dickson, 1n a letter, while prisoner , Chrht S Profe”smc Wltnesses m thgse lands’
‘ whereby true love and sympathy are eradi-
B
10
JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.





cated, the very vitals of religion pulled out,
and the ways of God and godliness lam-
pooned and ridiculed, “ giving Jacob to the
curse, and Israel to the reproaches.” And
it is most lamentable, that while malignants
from without are cutting down the carved
Work of the sanctuary, Christ’s professed
friends and followers from within are busied
in contention and animosities among them-
selves, on account of which the enemy still
advances and gains ground, similar to the
case of the once famous and flourishing
city and temple of Jerusalem, when they
were utterly demolished by Titus Vespa-
sian.* These seem to indicate, that the
Lord is about to inflict His long threaten-
ed, impending, but protracted judgments,’r
upon a sinning land, church and people.
And as many of these Worthies have as-
sured us, that judgments are abiding this
church and nation; so our present condition
and circumstances would lead us to fear,
that we are the generation ripening for
them apace. How much need have we
then of the christian armour that made
them proof against Satan, his emissaries,
and every trial and tribulation to which
they were subjected! “ Wherefore take
unto you the whole armour of God, that
ye may be able to withstand in the evil day.”
But by this time something might have
been said concerning the testimony of the
church of Scotland, as it was carried on
and handed down by these witnesses of
Christ to posterity, in its different parts
and periods. But as this has been some-
* See Josephus’s De Bello Jud. lib. v. and vi.,
and of this destruction, Eusebius, lib. iii. chap. 6;
and the life of Titus Vespasian.
'l' “ Well may we tremble now ; what manners reign ;
But wherefore ask we ; when a true reply
\Vould shock too much. Kind Heaven avert events,
Whose fatal nature might reply too plain;
Vengeance delay’d but gathers and ferments -,
More formidably blackens in the wind,
Brews deeper draughts of unrelenting wrath,
And higher charges the suspended stormfH
Young’s Night Thoughts.

what controverted in these our times, it
would be too large a subject for the narrow
limits of a preface, any further than to
observe, that,
(1.) The testimony of the church of
Scotland is not only a free, full, and faith-
ful testimony, yea, perhaps more extensive
than that of any one church since chris-
tianity commenced in the world; but also
a sure and costly testimony, confirmed and
sealed with blood ; “ and that too, of the best
of our nobles,,ministers, gentry, burgesses,
and commons of all sorts: “ who loved not
their lives unto the death, but overcame
by the word of their testimony.”
(2.) Although there is no truth what-
ever, when once controverted, but becomes
the word of Christ’s patience, so ought
to be the word of our testimony; truth and
duty being always the same in all ages and
periods of time. Yet the church of Christ
in this world being under the influence of
circumstances, I suppose there is no book
which has or can be written, that will suit
the case of one particular church at all
times, and in all conditions: this pre-
eminence the holy scriptures only can
claim as a complete rule of faith and man-
ners, principle and practice, in all places,
ages, and times.
(3.) The primitive witnesses had the
divinity of the Son of God, and an open
confession of him, for their testimony; our
reformers from Popery had Antichrist to
struggle with, in asserting the doctrines of
the gospel, and the right way of salvation
in and through Jesus Christ; and again,
in the reigns of James VI., and Charles I.,
Christ’s REG ALIA,* and the divine right of
“ Here Christ’s crown rights not only became
the word of their testimony, but also the very
motto of their civil and military banners, insomuch
as when that gallant Scots army lay at Dunse-muir,
(anno 1639,) each captain had his colours flying
. at his tent door, whereon was this inscription in
5 letters of gold, ‘ Cmus'r’s CROWN AND COVENANT."
,1 -Stevens0n’s History, Vol. II p. 729.


JOHN HOWI E’S PREFACE.
11


presbytery, became the subject-matter of
their testimony. Then, in the beginning
of the reign of Charles 11., during which
the whole of our ancient and laudable con-
stitution was effaced and overturned, our
WORTHIES only saw it their duty to hold
and contend for what they had already
attained. But in the end of this and the
subsequent tyrant’s reign, they found it
their duty, a duty which they had too long
neglected, to advance a step higher, by cast-
ing off the civil authority altogether, and
that both on account of their manifest
usurpation of Christ’s crown and dignity,
and of their treachery, bloodshed, and
tyranny. And yet, as all these faithful
witnesses of Christ did agree in promoting
the kingdom and interest of the Messiah,
in all his threefold offices, standing in de-
fence of religion and liberty, and that not
only in opposition to the more gross errors
of popery, but even to the more refined
errors of English hierarchy, so we must take
their testimony to be materially the same,
only under different circumstances. Their
testimony may be stated thus: the primi-
tive Martyrs sealed the prophetic office of
Christ, in opposition to pagan idolatry,—
the reforming Martyrs sealed his priestly
office with their blood, in opposition to
popish idolatry—But last of all, our late
Martyrs have sealed his kingly office with
their best blood, in despite of supremacy
and bold Erastianism. They indeed have
cemented it upon his royal head, so that to
the world’s end it shall never drop off
again.
But, candid reader, to detain you
no longer with such considerations,—-—I
have put the following sheets into your
hands, wherein if you find anything amiss,
either in subject or style, let it be ascribed
to anything else rather than want of
honesty or integrity of intention. Consi-
der that all mankind are liable to err, and
that there is more difficulty in digesting
—— _,_______.____.__x_‘

such a great mass of materials into this small composition, than in writing many ‘
volumes. Indeed, there is but little pro-
bability that a work of this nature can
altogether escape or evade the critical eye
of some readers, particularly such as are
either entirely ignorant of reformation
principles, or what the Lord hath done for
covenanted Scotland; and those also who
can bear with nothing but what comes
from men who are of a uniform status
or persuasion with themselves. Hence, in
the anticipation of objections that might
arise, the few following things may be
observed: .
It may be objected, that many things might have been published more useful for ‘
the present generation, than the deeds and
public actions of those men who have stood
so long condemned by the laws of the na-
tion, these having been exploded by some,
and accounted such a reproach, as unfit to
be any longer on record. In answer to this,
I shall only notice, (1.) That there have
been some hundreds of volumes published
of things fabulous, fictitious, and romantic,
fit for little else than to amuse the credu-
lous reader; while this subject has been in
a great measure neglected. (2.) That it i
has been the constant practice of the Lord’s people in all ages, to hand down and keep on record what the Lord had done by and z
for their forefathers. We find the royal
Psalmist, in name of the church, oftener
than once at this work, Psal. xliv. and l
lxxviii., “ WVe have heard with our ears, 0
God; our fathers have told us, what works
thou didst in their days, in the times of
old: we will not hide them from their
children, showing to the generation to come
the praises of the Lord.” (3.) That it has
been the practice of all nations, our own
not excepted, to publish the warlike exploits
and martial achievements of those most
illustrious heroes, who distinguished them-
selves in defence of their native country
all


12
JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE.




for a little worldly honour, or a little tem-
porary subsistence; and shall we be behind
in publishing the lives, characters, and
most memorable actions of those NOBLE
CHAMPIONS of Christ, who not only stood
in defence of religion and liberty, but also
fought the battles of the Lord against his
and their avowed enemies, till, in imitation
of their princely Master, their garments
were all stained with blood, for which their
names shall be had in everlasting remem-
brance. And although it must be
granted, that in for/'0 homz'm's, their actions
and attainments cannot now be pleaded; yet
in foro Dei, that which was lawful from
the beginning cannot afterwards be made
sinfuP“ or void; and the longer they have
been buried under the ashes of neglect and
apostasy, the more need have they to be
raised up and revived. It is usual for men
to keep that well which was left them by
their fathers; and for us either to oppose
or industriously conceal any part of these
their contendings, would be not only an ad-
dition to the contempt already thrown upon
the memories of these RENOWNED FATHERS,
but also an injury done to posterity. “ Your
honourable ancestors, with the hazard of
their lives, brought Christ into our lands;
and it shall be cruelty to posterity if ye
lose him to them,” said one of these W or-
thies to a Scots noblemanJL
Again, some may be ready to object,
“ that many things related in this collection
smell too much of enthusiasm; and that
other things narrated therein, are beyond
all credit.” But these we must suppose to
be either quite ignorant of what the Lord
did for our forefathers in former times, or
else in a great measure destitute of the like
gracious influences of the Holy Spirit, by
which they were actuated and animated. For,
* See Collection of Acts of Parliament (said to
be Andrew Stevenson’s), Preface to part II.
1‘ Mr Rutherford, in a letter to the earl of Cas-
sillis. See his Letters, part I. epist. 23.
(1.) These Worthies did and suffered
much for Christ and his cause in their day
and generation, and therefore in a peculiar
and singular manner were honoured and
beloved by him; and although there are
some things here narrated of rather an ex-
traordinary nature, yet as they imply no-
thing contrary to reason, they do not for-
feit their title to any man’s belief, since
they are otherwise well attested, and ob-
viously referred to a Cause whose ways
and thoughts surmount the ways and
thoughts of men, as far as the heavens are
above the earth. The sacred history affords
us stores of instances and examples of a more
transcendent nature than anything here
narrated; the truth of which we are as
little at liberty to question, as the divinity
of the book in which they are related.
(2.) As to the soul exercise and pious
devotion of these men, they are so far
supported by the authority of scripture,
that there is mentioned by them, as a
ground of their hope, some text or passage
thereof which rested upon their minds,
suited and adapted to their cases and cir-
cumstances; by the faith of which they
were enabled to lay claim to some particu-
lar promise, “ as a lamp unto their feet,
and a light unto their path,” and this
neither hypocrite nor enthusiast can do:
“ For other foundation can no man lay
than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ,”
1 Cor. iii. 11
But then it may be alleged by those who
have a high esteem for this subject, that
nothing is here given as a commendation
suitable or adequate to the merit of these
Worthies, considering their zeal, diligence,
and activity in the discharge of their duty,
in the office or station which they filled.
This indeed comes nearer the truth; for
it is very common for biographers to pass

eulogiums of a very high strain in praise
, of those whom they affect. But in these
Q panegymical orations, they often rather ex-


JOHN HOWIE’S PREFACE. 13



ceed than excel. It was an ancient, but
true saying of the Jews, “ that great men
(and we may say good men) commonly find
stones for their own monuments ;” and
laudable actions always support themselves.
“ And a thing,” as an author* observes on
a like subject, “if right, it will defend
itself; if wrong, none can defend it: truth
needs not, falsehood deserves not, a sup-
porter.”
Indeed it must be regretted, that this
Collection is not drawn out with more
advantage to the cause of Christ, and the
interest of religion, in commending the
mighty acts of the Lord done for and by
his worthy servants, in a way suitable to
the merit and dignity of such a subject.
And it is the greater pity, “ that those
who have a good will to such a piece of
service cannot do it; while those who
should and can do it, will not do it.” But
here I shall make no other apology than
what our Saviour, in another case, said
to the woman, “ She hath done what she
could.”
All that I shall observe anent the form
or method used in the following lives, is,
that they are all, except one, ranged in
order, according to the time of their exit,
and not according to their birth ; and that
in general, the history of their birth, parent-
age, and memorable transactions, is first
inserted; and with as few repetitions as
possible : yea, sometimes, to save a repeti-
tion, a fact is related of one Worthy in the
life of another, which is not in his own life.
Then follows their characteristic part,
which ofttimes is just one’s testimony
successively of another; and last of all
their works. That which is given in their
own words, is mostly printed within invert-
ed commas.
I know it is usual when relating matters
Fuller, in the Preface to his “ Lives in the
Holy State.”

of fact, to make remarks and reflections;
but as this often brings authors under
suspicion of party zeal or partiality, they
are designedly waived in the body of the
book. Anything of this kind is placed
among other things in the foot-notes, where
the reader is at a little more freedom to
choose or refuse as he pleases, only with
this proviso, that truth be always regarded.
The last thing to be observed is, that as
the credit due to this history depends so
much upon the authors from whom it was
extracted, their names should have been
inserted. The reader, however, will find
the most part of them mentioned in these
notes; so that if any one doubt of the
veracity of anything here related, he may
have recourse to the original authors; some
of whom, though enemies to reformation
principles, nevertheless serve to illustrate
the facts narrated in these Memoirs; as
nothing serves more to confirm either
truth or historical facts, than the testimony
of their opponents.
But to conclude. May the Lord arise and
plead his own cause, in putting a final stop
to all manner of prevailing wickedness;
hasten that day when the glorious light of
the gospel shall shine forth in purity, with
the power and success of former times,
and with a great enlargement of the Me-
diator’s kingdom; “when his dominion shall
be extended from the river to the ends oi
the earth ;” when all these heats, ani-
mosities, and breaking divisions that now
prevail and increase among Christ’s pro-
fessed friends and followers, shall be healed;
and being cemented and knitted to one
another, they may join heart and hand
together in the matters of the Lord,
and the concerns of his glory; “ when
Ephraim shall no more envy Judah, and
Judah shall no more vex Ephraim, but
both shall fiy upon the shoulders of the
Philistines,” Isa. xi. 13 ; “ when her officers
shall be peace, and her exactors righteous-



14
JOHN HO WIE’S PREFACE.





ness,” “ and shall see eye to eye, when the
Lord shall bring again the captivity of
Zion.”-—Thus when we are endeavouring
to perpetuate the memory of these Wor-
thies, and commemorate what the Lord
did for and by our forefathers, in the days
of old, may we be so happy as to have
somewhat to declare of his goodness, and
wonderful works done for us in our day
and generation also.
And if the following sheets shall in the
least, through divine grace, under the
management of an over-ruling providence,
which claims the care of directing every
mean to its proper end, prove useful to the
reclaiming of neutrals from backsliding



courses, to the confirming of doubters, and
the encouraging of others to the like forti-
tude and vigorous zeal, to contend for their
most valuable privileges, whether of a civil
or a religious nature, then shall I think all
my pains recompensed, and the end gained.
F or, that many may be found “ standing in
the way, to see and ask for the good old
paths, and walk therein, cleaving to the
law and to the testimony,” would be the
joy, and is the earnest desire of one, im-
partial reader, who remains thy friend and
wellwisher in the truth,
JOHN HOWIE.
Locneom, July 21, 1775.






f“\ ’ ‘
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THE
SCOTS WORTHIES:
THEIR LIVES AND TESTIMONIES

INTRODUCTION.
CHRISTIANITY seems to have made its
appearance in Scotland at a very early
period: according to some writers, it was
propagated in this kingdom by the apostles
themselves. It is said by some, that Simon
Zelotes, by others that Paul, preached the
gospel in this part of the world ; but as this ‘
opinion is not supported on proper autho-
rity, it merits only the regard due to con-
jecture, not the attention which an un-
doubted narrative demands. Another, and
more probable account, is, that during the
persecution raised by Domitian, (the twelfth
and last Caesar, about A.D. 96,) some of the
disciples of the apostle John fled into our
island, and there taught the religion of Jesus. 1
It does not appear that christianity
made any very rapid progress for a
considerable time. The first account of
the success of the gospel that can be de-
pended on, is, that about AD. 203, king
Donald I., with his queen and several
courtiers, were baptized, and continued for
a time to promote the interests of chris-
tianity, in opposition to pagan idolatry.
But the invasion of the emperor Severus
disturbed this king’s measures; so that for
the space of more than seventy years after,
religion declined and the idolatry of the
Druids prevailed.
heathen priests, who performed their rites
in groves of oak trees ; a species of idolatry
‘They were an order of i
of great antiquity, being of the same kind

' ' ' ,‘r- ,1- q
'1 I . 1 _ 7 I}: DJ 'Zzu'ff’ M1 I. _.I:.
{we l ,4, - > ‘‘

[Druidical Worship.)
to which the Jews so often revolted. These
Druids likewise possessed a considerable
share of civil power, which made it a
very difficult task to establish a religion so
opposite to, and subversive of, their own ;
but the difficulties which Christianity has
in every age and country had to encounter,
have served its interest, and illustrated
the power and grace of its divine Author.
About the year 277, they were expelled
by king Cratilinth, who took special care

i to obliterate every memorial of them; and


16
SCOTS WORTHIES.





from this period we may date the true era
of christianity in Scotland, because, from
this time forward, until the persecution
under the emperor Diocletian, in the be-
ginning of the fourth century, there was a
gradual increase of the true knowledge of
God and religion. That persecution be-
came so hot in the southern parts of
Britain, as to drive many, both preachers

*
and professors, into Scotland, where they
were kindly received, and had the Isle of
Man, then in possession of the Scots, given
them for their residence, and a sufficient
maintenance assigned them. King Crati~
linth built a church for them, which was
called the church of our SAVIOUR, in the
Greek 601mg, and is now, by corruption,
SoDoR, in Icolmkill, one of the western

[Church of Sodor, in IcolmkilL]
isles. These men were not employed, like
the Druidical priests in whose place they
had come, in settling the worldly affairs of
men, but gave themselves wholly to divine
services, instructing the ignorant, comfort-
ing the weak, administering the sacraments,
and training up disciples to the same
services.
Whether these refugees were the ancient
Culdees, or a different set of men, it is
neither easy nor material to determine.
Some profess to trace Culdeeism to the
primitive ages of christianity, while others
ascribe its institutions to Columba about
the middle of the sixth century. The
Culdees (from cultores Dez', worshippers of
God) flourished at this time: they were
called ,uovaxol, or monks, from the secluded
religious lives which they led; and the cells
into which they had retired, were, after

their deaths, mostly converted into churches,
which to this day retain their names, as
Cell, or Kill, or church of Marnock; Kil-
Patrick, Kil-Malcom, &c. Opposed to
papal supremacy in unyielding resistance,
they differed from the votaries of the R0-
mish church, not only in their rigid adher-
ence to the infallible standard of the word
of God, but also differed from them in their
habits as a body of christian teachers: far
from cloistering themselves in some retreat,
wherein they could look forth with cold
unconcern upon the doings of their fellow-
men,—-bearing not the trials and vicissi-
tudes of life, or sharing its joys; confining
that love which they owed to the human
family within the limited circle of a mo-
nastic fraternity, or seeking the aggrandize-
ment of the order to which they belonged,
the Culdees, like Paul, laboured for their


INTRODUCTION. 1/
[-1



subsistence among their fellow-men; they
performed all the duties of useful members
of society, while they taught and preached
the truths of the gospel.
Their manner of operation was to choose
superintendents from among themselves,
whose office obliged them to travel the
country, in order to see that every one dis-
charged his duty properly: but these men
were utter strangers to the lordly power of
the modern prelate, having no proper dio-
cese, and only a temporary superintendency,
with which they were invested by their
brethren, and to whom they were account-
able. It was an institution, in the spirit
of it the same with the private censures of
ministers among presbyterians.
During the reigns of Cratilinth and Fin-
cormac his successor, the Culdees were in
a flourishing state: but after the death of
the latter, both the church and state of
Scotland went into disorder. Maximus,
the Roman praefect, stirred up the Picts to
aid him against the Scots, who were totally
defeated; their king, Ewing, with most part
of the nobility being slain. This bloody
battle was fought about the year 380, at
the water of Doon, in Carrick. This
overthrow was immediately succeeded by
an edict commanding all the Scots, with-
out exception, to depart the kingdom
against a certain day, under pain of death.
This drove them entirely into Ireland, and
the western isles of Denmark and Norway,
except a few ecclesiastics who wandered
about from place to place.
After an exile of forty-four, or, accord-
ing to Buchanan, twenty-seven years, which
the Scots endured, the Picts became sen-
sible of their error in assisting the Romans
against them, and accordingly strengthened
the hands of the few who remained, and
invited the fugitives back into their own
land. These were joined by some foreigners,
and returned, with Fergus II., then in
F
I
I
was the more successful, that at this time
many of the Roman forces were called
home. Their king was crowned with the
usual rites in his own country, and the news
of his success drew great numbers to him;
insomuch that he recovered all the country
out of which the Scots had been expelled
Most of the foreign forces returned home,
except the Irish, who received the country
of Galloway for their reward. This suc-
cessful undertaking happened about the
year 404, or, as others will have it, 420.
The Culdees were now called from their
lurking places, restored to their livings,
and had their churches repaired. At this
time they possessed the people’s esteem to
a higher degree than ever: but this tran-
quillity was again interrupted by a more
formidable enemy than before. The Pela-
gian heresy had now gained considerable
ground in Britain: it is so called from
Pelagius, a monk at Rome. Its chief arti-
cles are, 1. That original sin is not inherent.
2. That faith is a thing natural. 3. That
good works done by our own strength, of
our own free-will, are agreeable to the law
of God, and worthy of heaven. Whether
all or only part of these errors then infected
the Scottish church, is uncertain; but
Celestine, then bishop of Rome, embraced
this opportunity to send Palladius among
them, who, joining with the orthodox of
south Britain, restored peace to that part
of the church, by suppressing the heresy.
Eugenius the Second, being desirous that
this church should likewise be purged oi
the impure leaven, invited Palladius hither,

who, obtaining liberty from Celestine, and
being enjoined to introduce the hierarchy
‘ as opportunity should offer, came into Scot-
‘ land, and succeeded so effectually in his com-
' mission, as both to confute Pelagianism and
new model the government of the church.
The church of Scotland as yet knew no
officers vested with pre-eminence above
Denmark, at their head. Their enterprise ,
their brethren, nor had anything to do with
e



18
SCOTS WORTHIES.



the Roman pontiff, until the year 450.
Bede says, that “ Palladius was sent unto
the Scots who believed in Christ, as their
first bishop.”= Boetius likewise says, “that
Palladius was the first of all who did hear
holy magistracy among the Scots, being
made bishop by the great pope.” Fordun,
in his Chronicle, tells us that, “ before the
coming of Palladius, the Scots had for
teachers of the faith, and ministers of the
sacraments, presbyters only, or monks,
following the customs of the primitive
church.”t Tradition affirms that the shire
of Kincardine was the scene of his residence
and labours ; the place where his ashes are
said to repose being still marked by the
ruins of a chapel bearing his name.
But while we may consider him as hav-
ing opened that intercourse which gradually
obtained more and more between Scotland
and Rome, yet we are not to date fi~om his
time the era of diocesan bishops ; for there
were no such office-bearers in the church
of Scotland, until the reign of Malcolm II.,
in the eleventh century. During the first
1000 years after Christ, there were no
divided dioceses, nor superiorities over
others, but they governed in the church in
common with presbyters; so that they
were no more than nominal bishops,
possessing little or nothing of that lordly
dignity, which they now, and for a long
time past, have enjoyed. Spottiswood
(History, p. 29,) himself testifies, that the
Scottish bishops, before the eleventh cen-
tury, exercised their functions indifferently
in every place to which they came. Palla- I
thus may be said to have rather laid the
foundation of the after degeneracy of the
church of Scotland, than to have built that
superstructure of corruption and idolatry
which afterwards prevailed; because she
continued for near two hundred years in a
Vz'de Bede’s Eccles. lib. i. ch. 13.
Buchanan Ihst.book v.
1* Book iii. chap. 8.
Hist.
state comparatively pure and unspotted,
when we cast our eyes on the following
periods of her history.
Columba, too, a native of Ireland, and
descended from royal blood, flourished
about the middle of the sixth century.
His education was intrusted to Irish
ecclesiastics; but on account of some civil
dissensions he left his native country, and
travelled both in Europe and Asia, which
might tend to give him that intrepidity
which he afterwards so nobly displayed in
propagating the gospel. While Ireland
had been early blessed with christianity,
Scotland was wrapped up in the darkness
of ignorance and superstition; hence it was
that Columba, after his return to his native
land, set out on that missionary tour which
entitled him to be called the Apostle of
the Highlands. In the year 563, he sailed
in a small wicker boat with twelve asso-
ciates, and landed on Hi, or Iona, now
called Icolmkill, or Columkill, for Columba
himself. Here he established his missionary
college, which gave birth to those of Dun-
keld, Abernethy, St Andrew’s, Abercorn,
Govan on the Clyde, and many other reli-
gious establishments. Hence this remote
and rugged isle may be viewed as the
upper room in Jerusalem, a well-spring
whence flowed a flood of gospel light
throughout our land. It is affirmed that
Columba was not only instrumental in
propagating the gospel in Britain and
Ireland, but also on the continent of
Europe, particularly France and Italy.
About the end of the sixth and begin-
ning of the seventh century, a number of
pious and wise men flourished in the
country, among whom was Kentigern,
commonly called St Mungo. Some of
these men were employed by Oswald, a
Northumbrian king, to instruct his people;
they are represented by Bede, as eminent
for their love to God, and knowledge of the
holy scriptures. The light of the gospeL


INTRODUCTION.
19


by their means, broke into other parts of
the Saxon dominions, which long main-
tained an opposition to the growing usurpa-
tion of the church of Rome, which, after
the middle of this century, was strenuously
supported by Austin’s disciples. Besides
these men, the church of Scotland at this
time sent many other worthy and success-
ful missionaries into foreign parts, parti-
cularly France and Germany.
Thus was Scotland early privileged, and
thus were her privileges improved; but
soon “ the gold became dim, and the most
fine gold was changed.”
Popery came now by degrees to show
her horrid head; the assiduity of Austin
and his disciples in England was attended
with melancholy consequences to Scotland:
by fomenting divisions, corrupting her
princes with Romish principles, and inat—
tention to the lives of her clergy, the papal
power soon came to be universally acknow-
ledged. In the seventh century a hot
contest arose between Austin and his dis-
ciples on the one part, and the Scots and
the northern Saxons on the other, about
the time of keeping Easter, the threefold
immersion in baptism, shaving of priests,
&c.; which the latter would not receive,
nor submit to the authority that imposed
them. Each party refused ministerial com-
muni on with the other party, until an arbitral
decision was given by Osway, king of the
Northumbrians, at Whitby in Yorkshire,
in favour of the Romanists, when the
opinions of the Scots were exploded, and
the modish fooleries of papal hierarchy es-
tablished. This decision, however, was far
from putting an end to the confusion which
this dissension had occasioned; the R0-
manists urged their rites with rigour, the
others rather chose to yield their places
than conform.
daily increased, as the clerical power was
augmented. In the year 886, they obtain-
ed the act exempting them from taxes.


Their discouragements ‘
and all civil prosecutions before temporal
judges, and ordaining that all matters con-
cerning them should be tried by their
bishops, who were at this time vested with
those powers, which are now in the hands
of commissioners, respecting matrimonial
causes, testaments, &c. They were like-
wise by the same statute empowered to
make canons, try heretics, &c.; and all
iiiture kings were ordained to take an oath
at their coronation, for maintaining these
privileges to the church. The Convention
of Estates which passed this act was held
at Forfar, in the reign of that too indulgent
prince, Gregory.
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries,
Malcolm III., Alexander, David, 820., suc-
cessively supported this dignity, by erecting
particular bishoprics, abbeys, and monas-
teries. The same superstitious zeal seized
the nobility of both sexes, some giving a
third, others more, and others their whole
estates for the support of pontifical pride,
and spiritual tyranny; which soon became
insupportable, and opened the eyes of the
nation, so that they discovered their mistake
in raising clerical authority to such a height.
Accordingly, we find the nobles complain-
ing of it to Alexander III., who reigned
after the middle of the thirteenth century;
but he was so far from being able to afford
them redress, that when they were excom-
municated by the church on account of this
complaint, to prevent greater evils, he was
obliged to cause the nobility to satisfy both
the avarice and arrogance of the clergy,
who had now resolved upon retiring to
Rome, with a view to raise as great com-
motions in Scotland, as Thomas-a-Beckct
had lately made in England.
The pope’s power was now generally
acknowledged over Christendom, particu-
larly in our nation, for which, in return,
the church of Scotland was declared free
from all foreign spiritual jurisdiction, that
of the “ apostolic see only excepted.” This


—__ ,
20
SCOTS WORTHIES.







%
bull was occasioned by an attempt of one
Roger, bishop of York, in the year 1159,
to raise himself to the dignity of metropo-
litan of Scotland, and who found means to
become legate of this kingdom, but lost
that office upon the remonstrance of the
clergy. This remonstrance procured the
above bull in their favour, with many other
favours of a like nature at this time con-
ferred upon them, by all of i which they
were exempted fi'om any other jurisdiction
than that of Rome; so that we find pope
Boniface VIIL, commanding Edward of
England to cease hostilities against the
Scots, alleging that “the sovereignty of
Scotland belonged to the church ;” a claim
which seems to have been founded in the
papal appointment for the unction of the
Scots kings, which was first used on king
Edgar, A. D. 1098, and at that time regard-
ed by the people as a new mark of royalty;
but which, as the appointment of the pope,
was really the mark of the beast.
There were now in Scotland all the
orders of monks and friars, Templars, or
red monks, Trinity monks of Aberdeen,
Cistertian monks, Carmelite, Black, and
Grey friars, Carthusians, Dominicans,
Franciscans, Jacobines, Benedictines, &c.;
which show to what a height antichrist
had raised his head in our land, and how
readily all his oppressive measures were
complied with by all ranks.
But the reader must not think, that
during the period we have now reviewed,
there were none to oppose this torrent of
superstition and idolatry; for from the first
appearance of the Roman antichrist in this
kingdom, God wanted not witnesses for
the truth, who boldly stood forth in defence
of the blessed and pure gospel of Christ.
Mention is first made of Clements and
Samson, two famous Culdees, who in the
seventh century supported the authority
of Christ as the only king and head of his
church, against the usurped power of Rome,

and who rejected the superstitious rites of
antichrist as contrary to the simplicity of
gospel institutions. The succeeding age
was no less remarkable for learned and
pious men, to whom Scotland gave birth,
and whose praise was in the churches
abroad; particularly Joannes Scotus, who
wrote a book upon the eucharist, condem-
ned by Leo IX., in the year 1030, long after
his death. In the ninth century, a con-
vention of estates was held at Scoon for
the reformation of the clergy, their lives
and conversations at that time being a
reproach to common decency and good
manners, not to say piety and religion.
The remedies provided at this convention
discover the nature of the disease. It was
ordained, that churchmen should reside
upon their charges, that they should not
intermeddle with secular affairs, but instruct
the people, and be good examples in their
conduct ; that they should not keep hawks,
hounds, or horses, for their pleasure, and
that they should carry no weapons, nor be
pleaders in civil causes. And if they failed
in the observance of these injunctions, they
were to be fined for the first, and deposed
for the second transgression. These laws
were made under king Constantine II.; but
his successor, Gregory, rendered them abor-
tive by his indulgence. The age following
was not remarkable for witnesses to the
truth; but historians are agreed that there
were still some of the Culdees, who lived
and ministered apart from the Romanists,
and taught the people that Christ was the
only propitiation for sin, and that his blood
only could wash them from the guilt of it,
in opposition to the indulgence and pardons
of the pope. Mr A. Shields, in his “Hind
let Loose,” says, that the Culdees trans-
mitted their testimony to the Lollards fl‘
and pope John XXII, in his bull for
anointing king Robert Bruce, complains
' it Hind let Loose, period II. p. 11, first edit.


INTRODUCTION.
2.1


that there were many heretics in Scotland;
so that we may safely aflirm, there never
was any very great period of time without
witnesses for the truth, and against the
gross corruptions of the church of Rome.
Some of our kings themselves opposed the
pope’s supremacy, and prohibited his legates
from entering their dominions: the most
remarkable instance of this kind is that of
Robert Bruce. After his having defeated
the English at Bannockburn, they became
suppliants to the pope for his mediation;
who accordingly sent a legate into Scot-
land, proposing a cessation of arms till the
pope should hear and decide the quarrel
betwixt the crowns, and be informed of the
right which Edward had to the crown of
Scotland. To this king Robert replied,
“that the pope could not be ignorant of
that business, since it had been often ex-
plained to his predecessors, in the hearing
of many cardinal-s then alive, who could
tell him, if they pleased, what insolent
answers pope Boniface received from the
English, while they were desired to desist
from oppressing the Scots. And now,”
said he, “ when it hath pleased God to give
us the better by some victories, by which
we have not only recovered our own, “but
can make them live as good neighbours,
they have recourse to such treaties, seeking
to gain time in order to fall upon us again
with greater force : but in this his holiness
must excuse me, for Iwill not be so un-
wise as to let the advantage I have slip
out of my hand.” The legate regarding
this answer as contemptuous, interdicted
the kingdom, and departed: but king Robert,
paying little regard to such proceedings,
followed hard after the legate, and enter-
ing England, wasted all the adjacent coun-
ties with fire and sword.
In the beginning of the fifteenth century,
the reformation from popery began to dawn
in Scotland; at this time there was pope
against pope, nay, sometimes three of them

at once, all excommunicating one another;
which schism lasted for about thirty years,
and, by an over-ruling providence, contri-
buted much to the downfall of antichrist,
and to the revival of real religion and
learning in Scotland, and many parts in
Europe; for many embracing the oppor-
tunity now afforded to them, began to
speak openly against the heresy, tyranny,
and immorality of the clergy. Among
those who preached publicly against these
evils, were John Huss and Jerome of
Prague in Bohemia, John Wickliffe in
England, and John Resby, an Englishman
and scholar of Wickliffe’s in Scotland, who
came hither about the year 1407, and was
called in question for some doctrines which
he taught against the pope’s supremacy;
he was condemned to the fire, which he
endured with great constancy. About ten
years after, one Paul Craw, a Bohemian,
and follower of Huss, was accused of
heresy before such as were then called
doctors of theology. The articles of charge
were, that he followed Huss and W'ickliffe
in the opinion of the sacrament of the
supper, denying that the substance of bread
and wine were changed by virtue of any
words, and that auricular confession to
priests, or praying to departed saints, were
proper. He was committed to the secular
judge, condemned to the flames at St An-
drews, where he suffered, being gagged
when led to the stake, that he might not
have the opportunity of making his confes-
sion. Both the above-mentioned martyrs
suffered under Henry Wardlaw, bishop of
St Andrews, who founded that university,
1412; which might have done him honour,
had he not imbrued his hands in innocent
blood.
These returnings of the gospel light
were not confined to St Andrews: Kyle,
Carrick, Cunningham, and other places in
the west of Scotland, were also favoured
about the same time; for we find that


22
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Robert Blackatter, the first archbishop of
Glasgow, anno 1494, caused summon be-
fore king James IV., and his council at
Glasgow, George Campbell of Cessnock,
Adam Reid of Barskimming, John Camp-
bell of Newmills, Andrew Shaw ‘of Pol-
kemmet, lady Pokellie, and lady Stair.
They were opprobriously called the Lollards
of Kyle, from Lollard, an eminent preacher
among the Waldenses, for maintaining
that images ought not to be worshipped;
that the relics of saints should not be
adored, and other obnoxious tenets; but


I| llpll',
Illllii it it

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i





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‘1 lllll .

“than
._~
'1 liitllllt *
that
‘d—
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t“ ‘
all.‘ i
x llllltlll g, "1
fl; '.
lllltllllf it”:C " .
fill-"libs; 7 r; ‘if’. U‘ i ii; G ‘In \
they answered their accusers with such
constancy and boldness, that it was judged
most prudent to dismiss them with an
admonition, to content themselves with the
faith of the church, and to beware of new
doctrines.
Thus have we brought down this sum-
mary of church affairs in Scotland to the
time of Patrick Hamilton, whose life stands
first in this collection; which contains a
somewhat minute history of the church in
our land, during the period to which it
refers.


{ll
fill iI’
.p'

. ‘l?








PATRICK HAMILTON.

THIS illustrious youth, destined to the high
honour of being the first* to announce the
truth to his fellow countrymen, and the
first to seal it with his blood, was born in
the year 1504:. He was of royal lineage,
being the son of Sir Patrick Hamilton of
Kincavil,who was the son of lord Hamilton,
by a sister of king James III. By ma-
ternal descent his birth was not less
illustrious; his mother being a daughter
of John duke of Albany, brother to the
*It is not strictly true that Patrick Hamilton
was either the first who announced the truth in
Scotland, or there sealed it with his blood. Dr
M‘Crie affirms it as his conviction, that the opinions
of Wicklifi'e had a powerful and extensive influence
upon the Reformation in Scotland, before Patrick
Hamilton made his appearance. This learned his-
torian says,“ we can trace the existence of the
Lollards in Ayrshire from the time of Wickliffe to
the days of George Wishart ; and in Fife they were
so numerous, as to have formed the design of
rescuing Patrick Hamilton by force on the day of
his execution.” And with regard to priority in the
martyrdom of Scotland, in the records of the city
of Glasgow, mention is made by historians of one
James Resby, an Englishman and a scholar of
Wicklifi'e, who was accused by Lawrence Lindoris
in Scotland, in the reign of Robert III., for hav-
ing said that the pope was not the vicar of Christ,
and that a man of wicked life was not to be acknow-
ledged as pope. For holding these two tenets he
was burnt alive. In the reign of James I., about the
year 1431, Paul Craw. a Bohemian and a disciple
of the celebrated John Huss, was committed to the
flames at St Andrews, under the primacy of cardinal
Henry Wardlaw, archbishop of that see. But
these are instances so isolated, that it may be said,
without offending truth, that Patrick Hamilton was
the first who suffered for the doctrines of the
Reformation.

same monarch. He was early educated
with a view to future high preferment, and
had the abbacy of Ferme given him that
he might prosecute his studies, which he
did with great assiduity.
He was sent to the university of St An-
drews)‘ and there he finished his studies in
philosophy and belles lettres. His vigorous
mind gave promise of future eminence, and
when he was little more than twenty years
of age, he had made himself master of all
the learning then in repute. The university
of St Andrews, although it had not been
a century in existence, was at this time in
considerable reputation, and contained
many learned men. The celebrated John
Mair, or Major, the preceptor of our great
reformer Knox, and of our unrivalled
classical scholar Buchanan, flourished at
this time, and was professor of philosophy
and theology at St Andrews, where Ham-
ilton received his education. Major was
born at North Berwick, studied at Oxford
and Paris, and became a professor of the
Sorbonne, in 1509. In 1519, he was in-
vited to his native country by James
Beaton, archbishop of Glasgow, and in-
ducted professor in the archiepiscopal uni-
versity of St Andrews. His patron, Beaton,
four years afterwards, followed him to that
*4 This is stated on the authority of Mackenzie,
but it may be questioned. Had Hamilton been
educated at St Andrews, Knox, who was a student
there at the time, would have recorded it. Knox
does not seem even to have been acquainted with
him.


24
SCOTS WORTHIES.





city, as archbishop and primate. He died
about the year 1550. His Commentary
on the Third Book of the “ Magister Sen-
tentiarum,” and his “Exposition of Mat-
thew’s Gospel, had by this time been
printed in Latin at Paris, the former in
1517, the latter in the following year.
Objectionable as many of Major’s writings
undeniably are, yet he deserves applause
for exposing several of the most glaring
errors and abuses of his time. He was at
that period reckoned the greatest master
of the sciences which he taught. From
the circumstances of his having acquired
the chief part of his education in France,
and his having held the professorial chair
in the university of Paris, Major had ac-
quired a nicer discrimination of things, and
more rational and liberal modes of think-
ing, than were to be met with in Scotland,
or indeed in many other parts of Europe.
He adopted the opinions on polity defend-
ed by John Gerson and Peter D’Ailly,
who had nobly, and with so much applause,
argued in favour of the council of Con-
stance, against those who advocated the
doctrine of ‘the pope’s unlimited power.
or, in fact, taught many things which
must have been peculiarly obnoxious to the
catholic clergy, and which must have had
a peculiar influence on the minds of his
pupils; such as, that a general council was
superior to the pope, and might rebuke,
restrain, and even depose him ; he denied
the temporal power of the Roman bishop,
and loudly censured the ambition, avarice,
and splendour of the Vatican. These, with
a variety of other opinions which Major
taught, must have excited some spirit of
inquiry among his hearers, which would
not likely end in increasing their devotion
to the Romish church.
Under such a teacher, Hamilton’s mind
must have been preparing for the reception
of the truth, although his preceptor still
held several untenable and inconsistent

doctrines, and could not, therefore, be a
very safe guide to his noble pupil.
In this manner did Patrick Hamilton
finish his studies at the university; and
although he acquired great applause for
his learning from his teachers, there is no
definite notice taken by any historian of his
appearance as a student. Knox must have
been at the university during this period,
but he is altogether silent on the subject,
as he generally is, on the early lives of all
the Reformers. ‘There does not seem to
have been a great intimacy subsisting be-
tween Hamilton and Knox, though the
latter was only one year younger. Knox,
indeed, never mentions that he knew him
at all, though the supposition is not impro-
bable, that there might have been an ac-
quaintanceship. It must be recollected,
however, that Knox was at this time a
priest of the Romish church, having re
ceived orders before he arrived at the
canonical age,—and that the absence of
the future martyr from Scotland, for a
season, might also tend to stop all commu-
nication. Another reason might also be
alleged—the high birth of Hamilton, and
the comparative obscurity of Knox,—-for
the latter had not as yet given those indi-
cations of the important part he was to
sustain in the fiiture Reformation of his
country, which more than counterbalanced
the most splendid family renown, or illus-
trious alliance.
Hamilton was in the twenty-second year
of his age when the knowledge of divine
truth dawned upon his mind. His conduct
had already drawn upon him the suspicions
of the clergy. The freedom with which
he recommended ancient learning instead
of the dogmas of the schools, and the no
less undisguised language which he used
in declaiming against the corruptions of
the church, made him an object of peculiar
notice.
yet of such consequence, as to warrant


His influence, however, was not '

PATRICK HAMILTON.
25



~-__
punishment; and as he still remained in
the church, and in all probability would be
one of her greatest dignitaries; his opinions
were viewed as the ebullitions of a heated
imagination. But to Hamilton they were
not so, and, ere the canonical age for re-
ceiving his ordination, he resolved, in the
year 1526, to leave Scotland, and to im-
prove his mind by travelling in foreign
parts. This was the prevalent custom in
those days among men of rank, and espe-
cially among those who were designed for
the church. The continent was the great
resort of all our learned men, and they
returned to their native land, after having
pursued a course of study there, to the
discharge of those duties for which they
were eventually destined.
Hamilton proceeded to Germany, being
attracted thither by the great fame of
Luther. He first repaired to Wittemberg,
the residence of that reformer, by whom
he was received with cordiality, and intro-
duced to Melancthon, the most amiable
and moderate of all the reformers. They
retained Hamilton a short time with them,
and then recommended him to the univer-
sity of Marpurg. This university had been
recently founded by Philip, the landgrave
of Hesse, who was distinguished above all
the princes of that age for his learning,
and he had placed at its head the cele-
brated scholar, Francis Lambert of Avig-
non. This great man, who had resigned a
most lucrative situation, and left his native
country, in consequence of his attachment
to the reformed doctrines, soon felt towards
Hamilton the greatest attachment. The
young Scotsman with fondness and ardour
adopted the sentiments of his preceptor,
and attended with the utmost regularity
his daily prelcctions. His residence at
Marpurg’f was to him of the utmost ad-
“Dempster says. that Hamilton was a professor
in the university of Marpurg, but this is very im-
probable."—1Wachenzie, vol. ii. p. 137.

l
i
vantage ; and here it was that he first felt
an anxious desire to preach the gospel to
his own countrymen. and to instruct them
in true religion. He communicated his
sentiments to Lambert, who freely warned
him of the danger to which he would be
exposed, and he tried to persuade him to
remain at Marpurg ; but his resolution was
fixed, and, taking an affectionate leave of
his learned preceptor, with one domestic
he prepared to return to Scotland.
It does not appear whether Hamilton
returned immediately to his native country,
or prolonged his stay for a short time on
the Continent. after leaving Marpurg. It
i is asserted by some historians that he was
in Bohemia; and there is probably some
truth in the assertion, especially consider-
ing Hamilton’s ardent disposition, and his
eager desire after knowledge.
Hamilton, however, found among the
protestants of Germany certain principles
congenial to his own, and, from his intimacy
with Luther, who was now their greatest
friend, he was received with great hospi-
tality. He made himself master of all their
tenets, though there is no ground for Mac-
kenzie’s assertion, “with a design of re-
forming our church according to their
models.” His residence was brief among
them: for earnest to commence the work
of Reformation in his native land, he
arrived in Scotland with a single attendant,
in the year 1527.
Accordingly, being as yet a youth not
much past 23 years of age, he began to sow
the seed of God’s word wherever he came,
exposing the corruptions of the Romish
church, and pointing out the errors which
had crept into the christian religion as
professed in Scotland—He was favourably
received and followed by many, unto whom
he readily “ showed the way of God more
perfectly.” If is reputation as a scholar, and
his courteous demeanour, contributed not a
little to his usefulness in this good work.


I)
26
SCOTS WORTHIES.






The arrival of Hamilton was not long a
secret, nor was he allowed much time by
the clergy to disseminate his opinions. No
sooner had this young reformer set foot
on his native land, than he felt his bowels
yearning with compassion towards his de-
luded countrymen; and, contrasting the
moral aspect of his country with that of
the countries where he had been, he longed
for the time when the Reformation should
be as publicly acknowledged in Scotland
as in Germany. But he knew that this
could be accomplished only by human
means; and, nothing dismayed at the
magnitude or the probable issue of the un-_
dertaking, he resolved himself to begin the
noble work. James Beaten was at this
time atthe head of the Scottish catholic
church, being archbishop of St Andrews,
and lord chancellor of the kingdom. This
primate soon made it appear, that he was
determined to oppose, to the utmost, every
advancement to knowledge. The conduct
of Hamilton, in faithfully preaching Wher-
ever he went, exposing the corruptions,
and pointing out the dreadful errors of the

‘I not be led away by his doctrines.

church, as well as his celebrity as a scholar,
and his general courtesy to all, roused the
fury of the archbishop, and made him de-
termine on revenge. The high birth and
honourable connexions of Hamilton alone
restrained him from proceeding openly ;
for though James V., then a minor, was on
the throne, yet the primate well knew that
the reformer’s noble relatives would shield
him from his rage, even though they might
At all
events, the alarm of the clergy was appa-
rent, and they resolved as soon as possible
to rid themselves of this dangerous and
formidable enemy.
The city of St Andrews—a place vene-
rable for its antiquity, for its classical re-
treats, and for the many impressive asso-
ciations connected with it, was at that time
the great capital of the clergy. Here the
Romish hierarchy reared its majestic and
imposing form ; and, surrounded by hundreds
of priests, the primates were wont to sit
enthroned in power, in the splendid and
magnificent cathedral, which the over zeal
of the reformers afterwards levelled with

‘Cathedral of St kndrews]




PATRICK HAMILTON.
27



the ground. Beaton, as we have said, was 1
archbishop, Hugh Spence provost of St
Salvador’s college and dean of divinity,
John Waddell, parson of F lisk, rector of
the university, James Simson official of the
abbey, John Gregson provincial of the
Black Friars, Martin Balfour and John
Spence lawyers, Sir John Anna-n canon of
St Andrew’s, and Alexander Campbell
prior of the Black Friars. Those, with a
number of others of inferior note, consist-
ing of canons, friars, rectors, deans, and
prebendaries, completed the ecclesiastical
chapter of this venerable city, which, in its
contrast now, to the splendour of those
days of superstition, in its almost deserted
university, its silent streets, and mouldering
ruins, exhibits a mournful picture of the
wreck of ages, and of those mighty revolu-
tions of time, in which cities, as well as
kingdoms and empires, participate.
The archbishop now became Hamilton’s
inveterate enemy; but the chief difficulty
with the primate was how to get him into
his power, as he was every day more con-
vinced that his friends were powerful and
numerous. Through craftiness, however,
he at last succeeded; for, concealing his
intentions under the appearance of friend-
ship, he invited Hamilton to St Andrew’s,
under the pretence of holding a free con-
ference with him, in which he lamented
the errors of the church. The unsuspi-
cious victim, thrown off his guard by the
primate’s seeming candour, and rejoicing
that he would have an opportunity of ar-
guing with, and perhaps convincing, the
greatest dignitary in the church, willingly
consented. This was all the primate wish-
ed, and accordingly he proceeded against
him without delay.
Thus, through the vilest artifi ce, cunning,
and hypocrisy, did the archbishop of St
Andrew’s succeed in apprehending a man,
who, while he was at large, made him
tremble in his archiepiscopal seat.

Friar Alexander Campbell had several
interviews with Hamilton, after his arrival
in St Andrew’s. As Campbell was a man
of learning and considerable talents, Ham-
ilton openly engaged him in disputation on
the comparative effects of the reformed and
popish doctrines, and the friar, though not
convinced, felt himself vanquished. He
knew well that the martyr’s positions were
true, but he could not subdue his preju-
dices, and at once acquiesce in the evils of
superstition.
Nevertheless he went cunningly to work.
He pretended to acknowledge the force of
Hamilton’s objections against the clergy,
and the general errors of the Romish
church; but no persuasions of the friar
could induce the Reformer to recant. All
his arguments rather tended the more to
confirm Hamilton in the truth. Campbell
at last left him, and proceeded to the arch-
bishop, to whom he related his ill success.
The primate had previously resolved what
to do. Both he and the inferior clergy
made concessions to Hamilton, for he was
not as yet confined, owning that many
things required reformation, which, they
said, they earnestly wished ; but those ac-
knowledgments, there is every reason to
believe, were made only the more effect-
ually to conceal their intentions, and to
make Hamilton the more secure.
Archbishop Beaton, however, soon threw
off the mask of friendship and hospitality.
Like his nephew and successor the cele-
brated cardinal, who seems most liberally
to have imbibed his spirit, he was dis-
tinguished by the same want of principle,
the same craftiness, desire for political in-
trigue, and hatred to sacred truth. He
showed his ambition to the greatest- degree,
during the two months he acquired the
ascendancy in the government, after John
duke of Albany had resigned the regency,
which was shortly after his promotion from
the see of Glasgow to the primacy of St


SCOTS VVORTHIES.





Andrew’s, having succeeded the avaricious
Forman in the latter see, to the exclusion
of Gawin Douglas, the warrior bishop of
Dunkeld, and celebrated translator of Vir--
gil’s ZEneid into Scottish verse; and since
that time, till the present, though he had
been hated by the faction of the Douglases,
and often compelled by them, while they
retained possession of the king’s person, to
lurk among his friends, he had insinuated
himself into the government, and on his
restitution to his archiepiscopal seat, (a fter
the memorable escape of the king from the
hands of the Douglases, he had resided in
splendour at St Andrew’s, equally power-
ful in church and state. . As yet, till the
time of Hamilton, no heretic had disturbed
his security; he had reposed on the downy
pillow of ease, and none dared to make him
afraid; but now, though he regarded not
the church, as far as religion was concern-
ed, and was callous to everything uncon-
nected with his own aggrandizement, he
determined to arrest the progress of a man,
who was able, from his rank, influence, and
talents, to shakehis archiepiscopal throne,
and sow the seeds of dissension and turbu-
lence in that church, of which he was the
chief dignitary. Accordingly, inthe middle
of the night, an order was issued by the
primate for Hamilton’s apprehension, and
he was committed a close prisoner to the
castle of St Andrew’s.
Hamilton now saw the peculiar nature
of his situation, but he was nothing dis-
couraged at the dreary prospect. He was
well instructed in the things of heaven, and
those truths which he, firmly believed now
supported and animated his soul. He pre-
pared himself for the issue, with all the
calmness and resignation of a believer,
committing his cause to Him who judgeth
righteously.
The measures which Beaton and his
clergy took after Hamilton’s apprehension,
fully prove their original designs. Know-
ing well that, from Hamilton’s rank and
relationship to the royal family, there
would be powerful and not unlikely effectual
application for his life, the young king,
James V., at the solicitation of the clergy,
was persuaded to undertake a pilgrimage
that same day to the shrine of St Dothes,
in Ross-shire, that he might be out of the
reach of all intercession in behalf of the
victim. And yet those churchmen pre-
' tended that they had Hamilton’s salvation

i
at heart! The tender mercies of the
wicked are. cruel; and the inveterate of-
fences which Patrick Hamilton, a youth
only twenty-four years of age, had com-
mitted against the Romish hierarchy, could
be expiated only by his blood.
The day after Hamil'ton’s imprisonment,
a convention of the clergy was called by
the archbishop, in which he presided in
person. Hamilton was summoned to appear
before them, and accordingly he was
brought with all solemn parade into the
abbey church. They charged him with
preaching and maintaining heretical doc-
trines, and they exhibited a number of
charges of great importance, though they
finally restricted them to some of those
fundamental dogmas of popery which he
denied. The doctrines for which he was
condemned, however, according to Mac-
kenzie and Spottiswoode (afterwards the
protestant archbishop of that see), were the
following :—
“1. That the corruption of sin remains
in children after their baptism.
“ 2. That no man is without sin as long
as he lives.
“3. That no man, by the mere power
of his free will, can do any good.
“ 4. That every true christian may know
whether or not he is in a state of grace.
“ 5. That a man is not justified by works,
but by faith only.
“6. That good works make not a man
good, but that a good man doth good


PATRICK HAMILTON. 29



works, and that an ill man doth ill Works;
yet the same ill works truly repented of,
do not make an ill man.
“ 7. That faith, hope, and charity are so
linked together, that he who hath one,
hath all, and he who lacketh one, lacketh
all.
“ 8. That God is the cause of sin in this
sense, that he withdraweth his grace from
man, and When grace is withdrawn, he
cannot but sin.”
Other five charges were added, making
them in all thirteen.
“ 1. That auricular confession is not
necessary to salvation.
“2. That actual penance cannot pur-
chase the remission of sins.
“ 3. That there is no purgatory,
“4. That the holy patriarchs were in
heaven before Christ’s passion.
“ 5. That the pope is antichrist, and
that every priest hath as much power as he.”
The sentence, as given by Mr Fox in
his “ Acts and Monuments of Martyrs,” is
as follows:
“ CHRIS TI nomine inz'ocato: We
James, by the mercy of God, archbishop of
St Andrews, primate of Scotland, with the
counsel, decree and authority, of the most
reverend fathers in God, and lords, abbots,
doctors of theology, professors of the holy
scripture, and masters of the university,
assisting us for the time, sitting in judg-
ment, within our metropolitan church of
St Andrews, in the cause of heretical
pravity, against Mr Patrick Hamilton,
abbot or pensionary of Ferme, being sum-
moned to appear before us, to answer to
certain articles affirmed, taught, and preach-
ed by him, and so appearing before us, and
accused, the merits of the cause being
ripely weighed, discussed, and understood, 7
by faithful inquisition made in Lent last
passed: \Ye have found the same Mr
Hamilton many ways infamed with heresy,
disputing, holding and maintaining divers

heresies of Martin Luther and his followers,
repugnant to our faith, and which is already
condemned by general councils, and most
famous universities. And he being under
the same infamy, We discerning before him
to be summoned and accused upon the
premises, he of evil mind (as may be pre-
sumed), passed to other parts, forth of the
realm, suspected and noted of heresy. And
being lately returned, not being admitted,
but of his own head, without licence or
privilege, hath presumed to preach wicked
heresy.
“ \Ve have found also that he hath
affirmed, published, and taught, divers
opinions of Luther and wicked heretics,
after that he was summoned to appear be-
fore us and our council: That man hath
no free-will: That man is in sin so long as
he liveth: That children incontinent after
their baptism, are sinners: All christians
that be worthy to be called christians, do
know that they are in grace: No man is
justified by Works but by faith only: Good
works make not a good man, but a good
man doth make good works: That faith,
hope, and charity are so knit, that he that
hath the one hath the rest, and he that
wanteth one of them wanteth the rest, &-c.,
with divers other heresies and detestable
opinions; and hath persisted so obstinate
in the same, that by no counsel or persua-
sion he may be ch~awn therefrom, to the
Way of our right faith.
“ All these premises being considered, we
having God and the integrity of our faith
before our eyes, and following the counsel
and advice of the professors of the holy
scripture, men of law, and others assisting
us for the time, do pronounce, determine,
and declare, the said Mr Patrick Hamil-
ton, for his affirming, confessing, and main-
taining of the foresaid heresies, and his
pertinacity (they being condemned already
'by church, general councils, and most
famous universities), to be an heretic, and


3O
SCOTS WORTHIES.





to have an evil opinion of the faith, and
therefore to be condemned and punished,
likeas we condemn and define him to be
punished by this our sentence definitive,
depriving, and sentencing him to be depriv-
ed of all dignities, honours, orders, offices,
and benefices of the church ; and therefore
do judge and pronounce him to be deliver-
ed over to the secular power, to be punish-
ed, and his goods to be confiscated.
“ This our sentence definitive was given
and read at our metropolitan church of St
Andrews, the last day of the month of
February, anno 1527, being present, the
most reverend fathers in Christ, and lords,
Gawand archbishop of Glasgow, George
bishop of Dunkelden, John bishop of
Brechin, William bishop of Dunblane,
Patrick prior of St Andrew’s, David abbot
of Aberbrothoc, George abbot of Dunferm-
line, Alexander abbot of Cambuskenneth,
Henry abbot of Lenders, John prior of
Pittenweeme, the dean and subdean of
Glasgow, Mr Hugh Spence, Thomas Ram-
say, Allan Meldrum, &c., in the presence
of the clergy and the people.”
Such was the solemn mockery, by the
Romish clergy, of all law, justice, and re-
ligion, in drawing out their “sentence defi-
nitive” against the martyr. The sentence
was originally in Latin, as all such docu-
ments are, connected with the church; and
they foolishly imagined, by the parade and
show of equity, that they would convince
the people of the danger of heresy, and
confirm their attachment to the holy church
infallible. Beaton, however, soon got more
work to perform than what he at first anti-
cipated; yet let us not contemplate this
impiety, but rather turn to the closing
scene of this noble martyr’s life, and briefly
witness the constancy of him, whom a
modern historian has justly characterized
as having received “ the eternal honour of
being the proto-martyr in Scotland, for the
freedom of the human mind.”
Hamilton heard his sentence with all the
meekness and resignation of a christian
martyr. He had previously argued with
his judges, and had defended his opinions
with firmness, though with modesty: now
he anticipated the result, and he prepared
himself for death. On the same day that
this sentence was pronounced by the
ecclesiastical court, he was also condemned
by the secular power; and the clergy, afraid
that some sudden intercession would be
made for his life, determined to hurry him
to the stake that very afternoon.
During the interval he was visited by
Alexander Aless, canon of the metropolitan
church of St Andrews, who again tried to
) reclaim him to the bosom of the catholic
6 church, but in vain. Aless was himself
‘ staggered by the martyr’s arguments. He
l had studied the Lutheran controversy, and,
I being well instructed in scholastic theology,

held several conferences with Hamilton,
to induce him to recant. These confer-
ences ended in the conversion of Aless ;
and the constancy with which he beheld
Hamilton adhere to his opinions at the
stake, strengthened his resolutions. Aless
some time after delivered a Latin discourse
to the synod, which brought him under
suspicion of heresy. He was thrown into
prison; but after a few years’ confinement
he made his escape, and, embarking in a
vessel on the coast, eluded the vigilance of
his pursuers. Aless went to Germany,
and in 1535 came over to England, re-
commended to Cranmer by Melancthon.
He returned to Germany in 1540, and
was made professor of divinity in the Uni-
versity of Leipsic.





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gaming nf fiatritlt Efiamiltnn at St. gtnhrtfns, 1528.
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firings Wtisljart iglrratlging at glimmer During the agllagnr, 1544.
BLACKIE AND SON: GLASGOIV, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON.


PATRICK HAMILTON.
31


TESTIMONY
OF
PATRICK HAMILTON.
After having a conversation with Aless,
Hamilton was speedily hurried to the
,_ _ . __ ~____
stake, the combustibles being prepared 1
‘ fanatical priest—for the martyr felt his in-
before the old college. He walked out
with fortitude, evincing at once to his.
ungodly persecutors the faith of a christian,
and the patience of a martyr. Having
approached the place of martyrdom, where
a great concourse of spectators had assem-
bled, he put off his clothes, and gave them
to the faithful domestic who had long
attended him. “ This stuff,” said he, “ will
not help me in the fire, yet will do thee
some good. I have no more to leave thee
but the example of my death, which I pray
thee keep in mind; for albeit the same be
bitter and painful in man’s judgment. yet
it is the entrance to everlasting life, which
none can inherit who deny Christ before
this wicked generation.”
The martyr then raised his eyes toward
heaven in holy devotion, and commended
himself in prayer to the God of all conso-
lation. The executioners speedily bound
him to the stake, amid timber, coals, and
other combustibles, and the match was laid
to the train of powder, by which it was to
be lighted. It did not succeed, and the

I fourth year of his age.
explosion scorched only his face and hands. a
with firmness, yet with great modesty; and
\Yliile his murderers were bringing more
powder, he remained in this painful situa-
tion, addressing the spectators, and beseech-
ing them to look to their own salvation.
During this time he was repeatedly inter-
rupted by Campbell, the prior of the Black I
Friars, who called upon him “ to recant,
pray to our lady, and say, Salve Regina.”
‘This indecent disturbance being often re-
peated by the priest, a disturbance so much
the more violent, as it was imbittering the
last moments of a man who needed other

consolations, Hamilton turned towards
him, and with an audible voice, said, “ Thou
wicked man, thou knowest I am not a
heretic, and that it is the truth of God for
which Inow sufier; so much didst thou
confess to me in private; and therefore I
’ appeal thee to answer for this thy hypocrisy
before the judgment-seat of Christ." The
dignation arise at the thoughts of his
1 having betrayed him—retired abashed and
confounded, amid the wondering friars;
and the fact that he died in a year after-
wards of a distemper which excited a
frenzy, during which, haunted by remorse
for his baseness towards Hamilton, he fre-
quently called out his name, served to
confirm the populace in their belief that
the martyr had uttered a prophetic tes-
timony.
By this time, however, the train was
again prepared, and the fire kindled.
Hamilton was speedily enveloped in smoke
and flames. The noble martyr stretched
out his hands to heaven, and expired, like
another Stephen, with these his last words:
“ How long, O Lord, shall darkness cover
this reahn! How long wilt thou suffer
this tyranny of men! Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit!”
Thus died Patrick Hamilton, on the
last day of February, 1528, in the twenty-
“ On his trial,”
says Dr M‘Crie, “ he defended his opinions
the mildness, patience, and fortitude which
he displayed at the stake, equalled those of
the first martyrs of christianity.” “ The
murder of Patrick Hamilton,” says Pink-
erton, “ was afterwards avenged in the
blood of Beaton’s nephew; and the flames
in which the martyr expired, were, in
the course of one generation, to enlighten
all Scotland, and to consume with aveng-
ing fury, the catholic superstition, the
papal power, and the prelacy itself.”



_—---_,_.__.___ _.
SCOTS WORTHIES.



It is not to be expected that there can
be much of interesting narrative in the
life of one who died so young. Incidents
of youth are seldom thought worthy of re-
cord by the historian, and the martyr was
cut ofi" when men are generally entering
on the theatre of active life. But the name
of this noble witness deserves to be handed
down to the latest posterity, as being one
who possesses the eternal honour, gained
by few of his exalted rank, of being the
first to shed his blood for the glorious
truths of the Reformation.
Patrick Hamilton left a valuable treatise
on the law and gospel. It was originally
written in Latin, and was translated by
John Frith, and by him denominated
Patriclc’s Places. It is to be found at
length in the acts and monuments of the
indefatigable Fox, and the Reformer John
Knox has given an abstract of it in his
Historie of the Reformation. It extends
to eight pages folio, black letter, including
the various notes of F rith and Fox, and is
a curious specimen of the style of theologi-
cal writing of those days, being composed
in the syllogistic manner. We cannot how-
ever spare room for either a transcription
or an analysis of it.
The effects of Hamilton’s death began
early to appear. The mildness and patience
which he displayed, while surrounded by
his bitter persecutors, made a powerful
impression on the beholders. While his
murderers were everywhere loathed and
detested, save by their catholic brethren
abroad, “there were many of the learned,
as well as the common people, who beheld
with deep interest the cruel death of a per-
son of rank, and they could not refrain from
admiring the heroism with which he en-
dured it.” The result was as might have
been expected. The public curiosity was
excited; an inquiry was instituted into the ,
opinions for which he suffered, and this, in
many cases, led to conviction. And though,

struck with alarm, the clergy adopted the
most vigorous proceedings to stop the pro-
gress of heresy, it was in vain, The Re-
formed doctrines spread rapidly, even in
the precincts of the metropolis of sin, and
many of the clergy themselves, besides the
people, firmly believed that Hamilton died
a martyr. We only mention one or two
of them, as connected with the death of the
martyr.
“Gawin Logie,” says the biographer of
Knox, “was so successful in instilling the
reformed doctrines into the minds of the
students, that it became proverbial to say
of one suspected of Lutheranism, that he
had drunk deep of St Leonard’s well.”
Being at last decided in his sentiments,
and having drawn on himself the suspicions
of his superiors, he also found it necessary
to flee in 1553. There is no historical
notice of him after that period. Robert
Logie, a kinsman, belonged to the abbey
of Cambuskenneth, of which he was a
canon-regular, but having embraced the
reformed doctrines, he also was compelled
to leave his native country. He became a
preacher in England.
Alexander Seaton was confessor to
James V., and the cause of his retreat
into England is well known. He died in
the year ‘1542, in the family of Charles
Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who retained
him as his chaplain.—John Fife was
another eminent man, who had to consult
his safety by flight. He accompanied
Alexander Aless, of whom we have already
spoken, in his flight from St Andrews
to Germany. He returned, however,
to Scotland, and died minister of St
Leonards, a short time after the Re-
formation.
Several others, who had also been led
by the fate of Hamilton to an examination
and disbelief of the popish doctrines, were
compelled to le.ve their native land.
Among these were John Macbee, better


GEORGE WISHAR'I‘. 33



Maccabeus, and one of the first translators
of the Danish Bible,—-John Mackbray,
known to the learned by the name of Dr James Harrison, Robert Richardson, a
canon regular of Cambuskenneth, and the
celebrated George Buchanan.


GEORGE WISHART.

THIS illustrious martyr was of the house
of Pitarrow, in the county of Mearns. He
was born in the reign of James V., though
the particular year is not certain, from the
silence of contemporary writers as to his
early history; but as he might be nearly
30 years of age at the time of his martyr-
dom, it is very probable he was born about
1514 or 1515. His family was ancient
and respectable, his brother being laird of
Pitarrow, an estate by no means insigni-
ficant.
Little is also known of \Vishart’s youth.
In the early part of his life he was sent to
the university of Aberdeen, and there he
completed a course of education in philo-
sophy and belles lettres, such as was then
taught. As was the custom of all the youths
connected with families of any note in those
days, Wishart was sent abroad by his
parents, and travelled on the continent
for some time, especially in France and
Germany. This was previous to the year
1538. It does not appear that he ever
resided at the university of St Andrews, i
or Knox, who studied there, would in all
probability have mentioned it, considering
their after intimacy; but, not at first hav-
ing any designs at all for the church,
\Vishart acquired the rudiments of hisl

education in some private seminary in
Scotland; next at Aberdeen, and then he
proceeded to the Continent, where he con-
tinued his studies. There, as is most likely
also, from the spread of the Reformation,
especially in Germany, he imbibed those
doctrines from some of the reformers them-
selves which he afterwards sealed with his
blood.
The first pubhc notice which we have of
Wishart, is one of considerable interest, as
connected with'the history of learning in
Scotland. In those days literature was in
a miserable state, all the learning being con-
fined to the scholastic jargon of the schools,
from which even those who despised it could
never afterwards wholly free themselves.
The knowledge of the languages was limit-
ed indeed. Latin was the only language
’ studied—a language which was generally
worse understood by the priests, who should
have understood it best, than by the laity;
Greek was almost wholly unknown; for it
is only in the year 1522 that Hector Boetius
mentions George Dundas as a good Greek
scholar, which language he had most pro-
bably acquired in France ; but that writer
makes no mention of this language as a
branch of education taught in the univer-
sities in his time. In the year 1534, the
E


34
SCOTS WORTHIES. _



celebrated John Erskine of Dun, a man to
whom the Reformation was subsequently
much indebted, brought a learned man
from France to teach Greek in Montrose,
which is honoured as being the first town
in Scotland in which encouragement was
given to this elegant and beautiful language.
As Erskine was provost of the town of
Montrose, he of course had much in his
power, independent of the frowns of the
priests, who liked not this encouragement
to literature. At the school of this French
scholar, Wishart obtained the knowledge of
the Greek language, and afterwards succeed-
ed his master as teacher there. But the course
of study which Wishart prescribed, drew
upon him the resentment of his superiors
in the church. The bishop of Brechin,
‘William Chisholm, hearing that Wishart
taught the Greek New Testament to his
scholars, summoned him to appear before
him on a charge of heresy, upon which he
consulted his safety by flight, and retreated
into England, in the year 1538.
VVishart, thus driven by prelatical ty-
ranny from his native country, betook him-
self to the university of Cambridge, at that
time of great celebrity, from the lectures of
reformed divines who resided there, and
entered himself a student of Bene’t or
Corpus Christi college, in that university.
Here he resided for six years, leading a life
of the most unexampled study and devotion.
He was out of the jurisdiction and power
of his enemy the bishop of Brechin; and
here he made those truths his more parti-
cular study, which he afterwards preached
with such effect to his countrymen.
The following graphic description of him
during his residence at the university of
Cambridge, is given by Emery Tylney,
one of his scholars :—
“ About the yeare of our Lord a thou-
sand, five hundreth, fortie and three, there
was in the universitie of Cambridge, one

ed Maister George of Bennet’s colledge,
who was a man of tall stature, polde head—
ed, and on the same a round French cap
of the best; judged to be of melancholye
complexion by his physiognomie; blacke
haired, long-bearded, comely of personage
well-spoken of after his countrey of Scot-
land, courteous,lowly, glad to teach, desirous
to learn, and was well trauelled, hauing on
him, for his habit or clothing, neucr but a
mantell or frize gown to the shoes, a blacke
Millian fustain dublet, and plain blacke ho-
sen; coarse new canvasse for his shirtes, and
white falling bandes and cuffes at the hands.
All the which apparell he gaue to the
poor, some weekly, some monethly, some
quarterlie, as he liked, sauing his French
cap, which he kept the whole yeare of my
beeing with him.
“ Hee was a man modest, temperate,
fearing God, hating couetousness: for his
charitie had neuer ende, night, noone, nor
daye; he forbare one meale in three, one
day in foure for the most part, except
something to comfort nature. Hee lay
hard upon a pouffe of straw; coarse new
canuasse sheetes, which, when he changed,
he gaue away. He had commonly by his
bedside a tubbe of water, in the which (his
people being in bed, the candle put out,
and all quiet,) hee used to bathe himselfe ;
as I being very young, being assured offten
heard him, and in one light night discerned
him. He loued mee tenderlie, and I him,
for my age, as effectuallie. He taught
with great modestie and grauitie, so that
some of his people thought him seuere, and
would haue slaine him, but the Lord was
his defence. And hee, after due correction
for their malice, by good exhortation
amended them, and he went his way. O
that the Lord had left him to me his poore
boy, that hee might haue finished that he
had begunne ! For in his religion he was,
as you see heere in the rest of his life,
Maister George \Vischart, commonly call- , when he went into Scotland with diuers of


GEORGE WISHART.
35


the nobilitie, that came for a treatie to king
Henry the Eight. His learning was no
less sufficient then his desire, always prest
and readie to do good, in that he was able,
both in the house priuately, and in the
schoole publikely, professing and reading
divers authours.
“ If I should declare his loue to me and
all men, his charitie to the poore, in giuing,
relieuing, caring, helping, prouiding, yea,
infinitely studying how to do good unto
all, and hurt to none, I should sooner want
words than just cause to commend him.
“ All this I testifie with my whole heart
and trueth of this godly man. He that
made all, gouerneth all, and shall iudge all,
knoweth I speake the troth, that the simple
may be satisfied, the arrogant confounded,
the hypocrite disclosed.
“ EMERY TYLNEY.”
In the year 1544, Wishart felt a desire
to return to his native country, that he
might preach those truths which had glad-
dened his own heart to his fellow-country-
men. And when Wishart “ went into
Scotland,” as his pupil Tylney expresses
it, “ with diuers of the Nobilitie that came
for a treatie to king Henry the Eight ;” it
was at the earnest invitation of some of
these, who were the principal nobility.
These “ Nobilitie” were commissioners
who had been sent to negotiate a treaty
with the English monarch, on the following
account :-—-It will be recollected, that,
through the cardinal’s influence, Henry’s
favourite scheme of uniting the two king-
doms, by a marriage with his son Edward
and the infant princess Mary of Scotland,
had been abandoned, and that Henry, in
high wrath, proclaimed war against the
Scots. The Scots, however, were in no

respecting the mustering of their army.
Peace was the only alternative, and com-
missioners were accordingly despatched to
the English monarch. to conclude a treaty
between the two kingdoms. In the com-
pany, therefore, of these, Wishart returned,
and established himself first in Montrose,
where he commenced his ministry. From
Montrose he proceeded to Dundee, where
his discourses excited the highest ad1ni~
ration.
It is singular that he should have chosen
a town for the commencement of his mi-
nistry so near the abode of the cardinal,—
St Andrews being only about nine miles
from that town. It would seem to argue,
either that he was only in part instructed
in the cardinal’s character, or that he was
determined to make known the truth, even
so near the abode of archiepiscopal tyranny.
It is probable, however, that Wishart found
an assembly of protestants in Dundee, to
whom he hoped his ministry would prove
peculiarly acceptable, and these again would
be encouragements for him to commence
his ministry among them, especially as they
would appear to him a people thirsting for
the word of life.
While Wishart remained in Dundee, he
began to give public lectures on the Epistle
to the Romans, by which he acquired great
fame. In the unsettled state of the public
mind, when men were literally in a strait
between two opinions, whether to adhere to
the faith of their fathers, or to give full cre-
dence to the doctrines of the Reformation,
when, in fact, the regard for the established
religion was completely set at nought, and
men’s eyes were gradually opening, to show
them that they had been the dupes of su-
perstition and credulity, the efforts made
condition at that time to take the field iby suchapreacher as \Vishart to overthrow
against Henry, then the most powerful j the catholic church must have been for-
monarch in Europe; and the disaster of‘ midable-
The cardinal, whose vigilance
Solway, which took place only two years I was unremitting, soon get notice of this
before, had made them much more cautious .' new opponent, and forthwith he kept his


36
SCOTS WORTHIES.





- -~-I-

eye upon him as his sworn adversary. He
beheld, with deep regret, a total overthrow
of all his plans by the preaching of Wishart;
and the rapid and extensive desertion which
he caused from the established church
raised in him the utmost anxiety to arrest
Wishart’s exertions. Compared with this
new enemy, all the other reformers were as
nothing in the hands of the cardinal; but
now he had to grapple with a master mind
—with a man whose fervour, uprightness,
and gentleness, had rendered him greatly
beloved.
There cannot be the smallest doubt, but
that the cardinal from the very first resolv-
ed on VVishart’s death.
Measures, however, were to be adopted
in the mean time, to silence the reformer
in Dundee; and accordingly, either by
bribery or by terror, the cardinal prevailed
with one of the magistrates of the town
named Robert hIill, who had formerly
been an adherent to the doctrines of the
Reformation, and a considerable sufferer
on that account, but who, having renoun-
ced these, was now a man of influence in
the town, to serve Wishart with a prohibi-
tion, in the name of the queen and the go-
vernor, to trouble them no more with his
preaching. This commission was executed
by Mill one day after Wishart had con-
cluded his usual sermon, and was received
by him with every expression of pious zeal
and resignation. On hearing the prohibi-
tion read against him, the reformer kept
silence for a little time, with his eyes turn-
ed towards heaven; then looking stead-
fastly on the speaker, with a sorrowful
countenance, he said, “ God is my witness,
that I ever mind your comfort, and not
your trouble, which to me is more grievous
than to yourselves ; but sure I am, that to
reject the word of God, and to drive away
his messengers, is not the way to save you
from trouble. When I am gone, God will
Send you messengers, who will not be afraid
\sake.
either for burning or banishment. I have,
with the hazard of my life, remained among
you preaching the word of salvation, and
now, since you yourselves refuse me, I must
leave my innocency to be declared by God.
If it be long well with you, I am not led by
the Spirit of truth; and, if trouble unex-
pected fall upon you, remember this is the
cause, and turn to God by repentance, for
he is merciful.”
Wishart determined to obey the injunc-
tion, and in this he at once evinced, that
he was not actuated by that rash zeal
which willingly courts danger for its own
After giving this short address, he
came down from the preaching place, and
resolved instantly to leave Dundee. The
earl marischall, and some other noblemen,
who were present at the sermon, earnestly
pressed him to go to the north with them,
but he resisted their importunities, and
went to the western parts of Scotland.
The town of Ayr was the first place
where he again commenced his public
ministrations. Here his reputation and
diligence made him to be gladly received
by many, and soon procured for him nu-
merous followers. The great freedom and
faithfulness with which he preached the
gospel in this quarter, also directed against
him the inveteracy of the church, and the
archbishop of Glasgow resolved to appre-
hend him. Dunbar, at this time, was arch-
bishop of that see, in whose diocese Ayr was
situated,—a man who was not possessed
of that furious zeal for persecution which
characterized the cardinal. Beaton and
he, in fact, had long looked on each other
with evil eyes ; for when, in the year 1543
a legate from the pope arrived in Scotland.
and spent the winter in that country, during
the residence of this functionary, the pride
of the cardinal was excessively wounded
before him, by the pretensions of the arch-
bishop of Glasgow. The cardinal having
attended the legate in his visit to that city




GEORGE WISHART.
37


claimed, as primate of all Scotland, pre-
cedence of the archbishop, to which, in his ,
own cathedral, that prelate would not sub-
mit. Upon this, a dispute arose, each
asserting in very formal terms the priority
of erection of his respective see; and, in
the eagerness of both to maintain their
dignity before the legate, a struggle took
place between them, and the large cross,
carried before the primate, was thrown to
the ground. The dispute ran so high, that
the regent was compelled to interfere, and
to restore unanimity between men, who,
professing to be the ministers of a religion
of peace, had so indecently interrupted all
good order, dignity, and worship.
The archbishop, who, although certainly
not a violent persecutor, was nevertheless
zealous enough for the church, at the in--
stigation of the cardinal, with whom he
now preserved an appearance of friendship,
hastened to Ayr with a number of attend-
ants. He took possession of the pulpit,
with a view to hinder Wishart from preach-
ing: on the report of which, the earl of
Glencairn, and some other gentlemen of
the neighbourhood, came quickly to the
town, and offered to put Wishart by force
into the pulpit, should the archbishop prove
unwilling to resign it. To this Wishart
would by no means consent, and as the
archbishop began to make a show of preach-
ing, he calmly said, that the bishop’s sermon
would not do much hurt, and that, if they
pleased, he would go to the market-cross.
He said this, because he disapproved of
whatever could be regarded as a violation
of peace ; “ and it was, indeed, his uniform
practice," says Dr Cook, “ to shun giving
unnecessary offence ; and this moderation,

while it increased the attachment of his ,
adherents, perplexed and astonished those l
by whom he was opposed.” He accordingly
repaired to the market-cross, and there
preached with such success, that various
persons were converted to the truth. Du-
ring the time in which Wishart was thus
employed, the archbishop was haranguing
his own followers and some few priests in
the church. Having no sermon to give
them, and, like his brethren, not being
much accustomed to the employment, he
told them he would be better provided with
a sermon on some other occasion, and
speedily thereafter left the town.
After the archbishop’s departure, Wish-
art continued with those who professed the
reformed doctrines, protected by the power-
ful, and constantly preaching the truths of
the gospel. On the sabbath following, he
was desired to preach in the church of
Mauchline; but the sheriff of Ayr, during
the night, had anticipated him by placing a
guard of soldiers in the church. Hugh
Campbell of Kinzeancleugh, a man of
considerable influence in the parish, with
others, being offended at this proceeding,
would have entered the church by force,
but Wishart again displayed his accustomed
moderation and forbearance. “ It is the
word of peace,” said he, “which I preach
unto you, and the blood of no man shall be
shed for it this day. Christ is as mighty
in the fields as in the church, and he him-
self, when he lived in the flesh, preached
oftener in the desert and upon the sea-side,
than in the temple of Jerusalem.” With
these words he appeased the multitude, and
withdrawing to a muir on the south-west
of the parish, he there preached for almost
three hours to a vast multitude of attentive
hearers; in which sermon was that good
seed sown, which afterwards brought forth
much fruit to the glory of divine grace.
\Vhile “Iishart was thus employed in the
neighbourhood of Ayr, instant in season
and out of season, and teaching daily with
success, he received intelligence, that a con-
tagious distemper raged with great violence
in Dundee, and was daily proving fatal to
vast numbers. His old affection towards
I that town now revived, and he accordinglv





38
SCOTS WORTHIES.

proceeded thither, after a month’s stay in
Ayr, notwithstanding the urgent entreaties
of many that he should remain. His rea-
sons were, “they are now in trouble, and r
they need comfort.
tion of God will make them now to magnify
Perchance this visita-
in Dundee, for his preaching station; to
the intent that, while those who were in
heal ‘.h might remain within, those who
were infected ‘with disease should take their
station without, the port or gate.’f The
whole conduct, in truth, of VVishart, while
and reverence that word which before, for
the fear of man, they set at light price.”
The humanity which Wishart on this
occasion displayed is highly honourable to
his character. He could not altogether
acquit the inhabitants of Dundee of ingra- i
titude, in forcing him, only a month pre-
vious, to depart from their town, even
although his residence among them had
been at the hourly risk of his life.
the religion of love operated too powerfully
on the heart of this eminent man; and he
felt every latent tie to revive, which bound
him in the affections of that people.
Having arrived at Dundee, he found
that the reports as to the malignity of the ?
distemper had come far short of the truth,
and his benevolent soul was grieved to be-
hold the ravages made by death. “ The joy
of the faithful,” says Knox, “ was exceeding
great when he gave signification that he
would preach on the morrow.” He chose
the head of the street called the East Port

[East Port and Wishart Church, Dundee]
l
at this time in Dundee, was such as entitles
his memory to be held in everlasting re-
membrance.
During all this time, his sworn adversary
the cardinal had his eye close upon him,
and, like the indefatigable animal of the
forest, urged on by devouring hunger,
l . .
watched every opportunity to seize him.
‘ He suborned many to vilify this holy man
But i

M-
and to act openly as his avowed foes.
His enemies, however, afraid. of having
recourse to open violence, attempted, while
he remained in Dundee, to assassinate him.
‘A priest, named Sir John Wightman,
either from his own private hatred and
bigotry, or, as has been supposed, though
without sufficient evidence, stimulated by
the cardinal, resolved on his destruction.
To effect his purpose, the priest stationed
himself at the foot of the pulpit steps, with
‘if The East or Cowgate Port, with the ex-
ception of a small portion at the old burying‘
ground, is the only remnant of the wall that de-
fended this This Port has been
religiously preserved, out of respect to \Vishart for
his affection-ale attention to the inhabitants during
the dreadful plague in 1544. It was on the arch-
anciont town.
' way of this Port he took his station; where, placing
himself as it were between the living and the dead,
A he administered to the dejected inhabitants the
‘ consolations of that blessed religion which alone
imparts comfort in the deepest distress; taking his
text from Psalm cvii. 20, “ He sent his word and
healed them, and delivered them from their destruc-
tion.” A congregation in connexion with the
United Secession Church, have lately built a very
handsome and substantial meeting-house, upon the
site of the old church of St Roque. In honour
of the martyr, this edifice has been called WISHART
CHURCH. The identity of this spot has been con-
firmed by the fact, that while digging the founda-
tion, various ancient reliques, besides human skele-
tons and detached bones, were found.





GEORGE WISHART.
39


his gown loose, and a dagger concealed
i to the adherents of the Reformation in that
under it, in order that he might plunge it ‘ town; for he felt a presentiment that they
into Wishart’s breast, as he came down.
The agitation of the priest’s countenance,
or the singularity of his appearance, luckily
arrested VVishart’s attention, and raised
his suspicions. Looking stedfastly on him
when he approached, he demanded of him,
What he intended to do ? and in an instant
seized the hand which grasped the murder-
“if
u
mipiivmr it ‘I,
ilizmll‘till -
‘,-
[Wightman’s attempt to assassinate Wishart.]
ous weapon. The priest, overcome by his
1ntrepidity and presence of mind, instantly
fell at his feet, and acknowledged his guilt.

would after that see his face no more. He
accordingly journeyed thither, and imparted
fresh courage to the professors of religion
by his presence. He taught publicly among
them, and administered to them the sacra-
ment of the Supper, with great solemnity.
This was the first time, and the first place,
in which the Lord’s Supper was adminis-
tered after the reformed manner?‘ While
4* Wishart while he was dispensing the sacra~
ment at Montrose, received a letter pretended to
be directed to him from his intimate friend the Laird
of Kinnear, acquainting him that he had taken a sud-
1 den illness, and requesting him to come to him with
journey.
all diligence. Upon this he immediately set out
on his journey, attended by some honest friends in
Montrose, who out of affection, would accompany
him part of the way. They had not proceeded far,
when Wishart suddenly stopped, saying to his com-
'panions: “I am forbidden by God to go this
Will some of you be pleased to ride yon-
der (pointing to some particular place) and see
. what you find, forI apprehend there is a plot against
‘ my life.”
He returned instantly to the town, and
those who went forward found an ambuscade of
about sixty horsemen, lying in readiness to seize
him. This at once exposed the whole affair; they
found the letter to be counterfeit, and upon their
informing \IVishart of the circumstance, he replied,
"I know that I shall end my life by the hands of
that wicked man, the cardinal, but it shall not be
after this manner."
Another circumstance is connected with the Re-
former’s journey to Edinburgh, to meet his friends
from the west. The first night after he left Mon-
trose, he lodged at Invergowrie, a place about four
The enraged multitude would at once have l miles from Dundee, with one of his friends named
sacrificed him as a Punishment for his l James Watson. About mldnight he was observed
barbarous purpose; but. Wishart restrained ;
their violence, and calmed their resentment. ‘
The Reformer now prepared himself to proceed to Edinburgh/that he might appear before a convocation of the clergy, and be publicly heard in defence of the doctrines 5
he taught. To this he had willingly
agreed, and as the time appointed for the
conference was at hand, he resolved first to
visit Montrose, and give a short exhortation ,
to rise from his bed, and to go out into an adjoin-
ing garden, where he gave vent to his sighs and
groans, thinking he was unnoticed. Two men,
however, belonging to the house had followed him
at adistance, and observed him to prostrate himself
on the ground, weeping and snpplicating, and then
return to his apartments. As they lay in the same
apartment with him, they took care to come back
before him; and upon his entering into the room,
they, as if ignorant of all that had passed, asked
him where he had been? But he made no answer.
In the morning they asked him again why he rose
in the night, and what was the cause of his sorrow,



40
SCOTS WORTHIES.




here, Wishart received a letter from the
friends of the reformation in Ayrshire, de-
siring him to meet them at Edinburgh in
the month of December. They promised
to him, according to agreement, that they
would demand the bishops to grant him
a conference on the matters of religion;
assured him that he would be heard ; and
that he might dread no danger, as they
would answer for his protection.
These things gladdened the heart of
Wishart, as he had now the prospect of a
favourable opportunity of promoting the
great designs he had in view by his return
to Scotland. But Erskine of Dun, who
well understood the political aspect of the
times, the power of Cardinal Beaton, and
the inconstant temper of the Regent, ear-
nestly dissuaded him from his proposed
journey. Wishart, however, could not be
withheld. In the midst of winter, he tra-
velled with a few attendants to Invergow-
rie, thence to Perth, and, after proceeding
through Fife, he arrived at Leith early in
the month of December 1545. There he
had the mortification to learn, that his
friends from the west of Scotland had not
yet arrived, nor was there any notice of
their being on their way. But the cardi-
nal, ever vigilant, was aware of their inten-
and they told him all that they had seen him do. '
He answered with a dejected countenance, “ I wish
you had been in your beds, and it had been more
profitable for you, for I was scarcely well occupied.”
But they praying him to satisfy their minds farther,
and to give them some comfort, he said, “I will tell
you ; I assuredly know my travail is nigh an end,
therefore pray to God for me thatI may not shrink
when the battle waxes hottest.” It would appear
from these two facts in Wishart’s life, that he pos-
sessed the spirit of prophecy. This has been af-
firmed of other distinguished Reformers. It is ob-
jected that its possession is inconsistent with the
perfection of the revelation of the holy scriptures,
and that superstition and sagacious foresight will
account for all the prophecies attributed to the
Worthies. We would refrain from expressing an
opinion on this subject frankly confessing our
inability.

tions, and had taken most effectual means
to deter them.
On Wishart’s arrival in Leith, as we
have already said, he found that his friends
from the west had not arrived, nor was
there any appearance of their coming to
Edinburgh. This was the contrivance of
the cardinal, who, ever active and vigilant,
had thrown various obstacles in their way.
Beaten well knew that he could not resist
the call which would be made for a free
conference, and, as he dreaded the result,
he determined to disappoint the proposed
meeting. This he did by various methods,
as he was then actually at the helm of
power, by counterfeit letters, by threats,
and by employing secret influence.
Wishart kept himself in retirement at
Leith for a few days. He began now to
feel all the bitterness of hope deferred, his
friends had disappointed him, and the great
objects which lay nearest his heart had
every appearance of being overthrown.
Day after day he passed in sorrow and
heaviness, especially as he saw that no man
around him cared for his own soul. His
friends observed his dejection, and offered
him their consolations; but to them he re
plied, “ Ihave laboured to bring people out of
darkness, but now I lurk as a man ashamed
to shew himself before men.” They soon
perceived his desire was to preach to them
salvation; upon which they told him that
they would gladly hear him, but that the
danger he would run was so great, that they
could not advise him. To this he replied,
“ If you and others will hear me next sab-
bath-day, I shall preach in Leith ; and let
God provide for me as he best pleaseth.”
He accordingly, on the following sabbath,
discoursed to his audience in Leith, from
the 13th chapter of Matthew, taking for his
subject the admirable parable of the sewer.
At this time the celebrated John Knox
was preceptor in the family of Langniddry,
in East Lothian. This illustrious man,

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GEORGE WIS HART.
41


to whom posterity is so much indebted, and
who was afterwards destined to complete
the Reformation in Scotland, had by this
time abjured the Romish church. He had
received ordination, immediately after com-
pleting his education at St Andrews, even
before the age appointed by the canons, but
he had never publicly preached, having con-
tented himself with merely expounding the
scriptures, in the family of Douglas of
Langniddry, a secret friend to the Reforma-
tion. Whether Knox was acquainted with
WVishart, before his retreat into England,
or whether he was attracted by his great
fame to Leith, does not appear, as Knox is
completely silent on Wishart’s early history.
Be that as it may, Knox was no sooner in-
formed that he was in Leith, than he
hastened thither from Langniddry, disre—
garding every danger to which he might be
subjected by such a step. The future
reformer resolved not to leave Wishart
during the time he should remain in the
Lothians, in order that he might, with the
greater freedom, enjoy his valuable instruc-
tions.
Knox was among Wishart’s auditors that
day he preached in Leith, as were also
various gentlemen of repute in East Lo-
thian, “ who were then earnest professors
of Christ Jesus.” It would appear also,
that the Lairds of Langniddry, Ormiston,
and Brunston, were present among the
rest. After the sermon, a consultation was
held by the gentlemen present, who all
agreed that it would be advisable for
Wishart to depart from Leith, especially
as the regent and the cardinal were to be
in Edinburgh at the approaching Christ-
mas. ‘With this advice \Vishart deemed
it prudent to comply, and his friends agreed
to take him with themselves, and to give

him safe lodging at Brunston, Ormiston. '
and Langniddry.
Knox heard this resolution with great
joy, for he had now found that he could
I
not be separated from him. While Knox
attended Wishart, he was instructed by him
in the Greek language,—a study which
was at that time almost unknown in Scot-
land. He likewise performed an office of
considerable notoriety. From the time
that the attempt had been made to assassi-
nate Wishart in Dundee, a sword had been
always carried before his person by one of
his attendants, for his defence. This office
was at this time fulfilled by Knox, and none
more faithful could have been chosen,
On Sabbath, December 17th, 1545,
Wishart and his friends were at Inveresk,
near Musselburgh, where he preached twice
to a great assembly, Among his hearers
was Sir George Douglas, who, at the close
of the sermon, publicly said, “ I know that
my lord-governor and my lord-cardinal will
hear that I have been at this preaching
[for they were both by this time in Edin-
burgh,] but say unto them that I will avow
it, and will not only maintain the doctrine
which I have heard, but also the person of
the preacher, to the uttermost of my power.”
These words greatly rejoiced the people»
and pleased the friends of \Vishart.* Du-
ring the sermon, two grey friars made their
appearance among the auditors. They
were easily distinguished by their dress;
and, as soon as ‘Wishart perceived them,
he exclaimed to the people who stood near,
“ I heartily pray you to make room for
these two men; it may be that they come
to learn.” Then, addressing himself to
them, “for; says Knox, who was present,
“ they stood at the very entrance of the
door,”—“ Come near, for I assure you, ye
shall hear the words of verity, which shall
either this very day seal in you your salva-
tion or condemnation.” But the fi‘iars
showed no disposition for instruction-
W’ishart proceeded, however, in his dis-
course, supposing them to be listening at-
Unfortunately, however, Sir George Douglas
did not fulfil this public profession in after life.
F



4-2
SCOTS WORTHIES.



tentively; but seeing that their object was
to disturb the solemnity of the service, and
to distract the attention of the audience, he
turned to them, and with a solemn counte-
nance, said, “ O ye servants of Satan, and
deceivers of the souls of men, will ye nei-
ther hear God’s truth, nor suffer others to
hear it? Depart, and take this for your
portion, God shall shortly confound and
disclose your hypocrisy within this realm!
Ye shall be abominable unto men, and
your places and habitations shall be deso-
late.” Abashed and confounded, the friars
retreated, afraid to confront this minister
of the New Testament. They stole from
the service like guilty criminals; while
Wishart turned to the audience, and said,
“ Those wicked men have provoked the
Spirit of God to anger.” He kept silence
for some time, as if occupied in internal
prayer. The audience stood deeply affect-
ed before him. He then resumed his dis-
course, and towards the end comforted them
greatly with the assurances of God’s grace.
Next day, the reformer proceeded to
Langniddry, in company with his friends.
The two following Sabbaths he preached
at Tranent, and gave distinct intimation,
that the impression was on his mind, that
his ministry was near a close. “ In all his
sermons,” says Knox, who was at this time
his constant auditor, “ after his departure
fiiom Angus, he forespake of the shortnesse
of time he had to travail, and of his ap~
proaching death, the day whereof was
nearer, he said, than any would believe.”
At the end of the Christmas holidays,
we find him with his friends at Haddington.
Here, by the consent of his friends, as it
was a town, even in those days, of consider-
able note, he preached to a very numerous
audience. On the following day, how-
ever, few attended, through the influence,
it was supposed, of the earl of Both-
well, who was the most powerful man
in the country, and who had been secretly

corrupted by the cardinal. At this time,
too, he received notice from his friends in
Ayrshire, stating that they could not hold
the appointed conference. This, with the
circumstances attending his preaching at
Haddington, almost overwhelmed him with
despondency. His devotedness to the truth
is here remarkably conspicuous ; as long as
he saw men eager to be instructed, he re-
joiced and counted on no labour; but as
his whole soul was engaged in the cause
of the Reformation, he now felt himself
grieved unto death. As it was at the re-
quest of his friends in Ayrshire that he had
hazarded his life by coming to the Lothians,
where he had not a sufficient number of
friends to oppose his enemies, all the hopes
which he had long entertained of seeing
the Reformation furthered were now blast-
ed, and he already felt himself like one
deserted, and in the power of the cardinal,
his implacable foe. He conferred with
Knox, “ who had carefully waited upon
him from the time he came to Lothian,” to
whom he read the letter, and said, that he
was now weary of life, for he perceived
that men began to be weary of God. Du-
ring this time, he was residing with Sir
Richard Maitland, at Lethington, who,
though not a professed protestant, received
and entertained him with hospitality. To
Maitland he also read his letter in the
deepest despondency; and though he was
just on the point of ascending the pulpit,
he could not conceal his grief. Knox, de-
siring to recall his ideas, remarked to him
that it was not his custom to consider these
things before preaching. “ True,” replied
Wishart, “the time for sermon approacheth;
I will leave you for the present to your
meditation.”
It is extremely difficult to account for
the conduct of Wishart’s friends on this
occasion. His own expressions would seem
to indicate an apostasy on their part, and
it is certain that they expressed little con-



GEORGE WISHART.
43


cern for his disappointment, or for the
danger into which they had brought him.
Whether the earl of Glencairn, who after-
wards acted a most conspicuous part in the
history of the Reformation, and who was
among the first of the nobility who re-
nounced popery, was of the number, does
not appear; but there is every reason to
conclude, that, from his openly encouraging
and protecting Wishart while in Ayr, if he
was not to act personally, at least the party
was to set out under his cognizance. What-
ever were the causes which detained them,
—---whether the designs of the cardinal, or
the state of the weather, still their conduct
is highly censurable, on account of their
being the instruments by whose advice
Wishart brought his life into hazard. Had
they not expressed themselves with callous-
ness, Wishart would never have asserted,
that “ he was weary of life, since men were
weary of God,” for he was possessed of a
nature by far too generous, and he had too
much of christian charity, to' condemn
rashly, when there was any reasonable
excuse. He seems, in fact, to have con-
sidered their conduct as highly reprehen-
sible, and as an act of great injustice done
to himself.
These feelings operated on him more
peculiarly, as he was just preparing to
enter the pulpit in the church of Had-
dington. As this was the last sermon our
reformer ever preached, we shall be here
minute in our detail, taking as our authority
the graphic description of Knox, who was
present on the occasion. Wishart went
into the church, and walked to and fro
before the high altar nearly an hour, his
dejected countenance indicating the grief
and sorrow of his mind At last he as-
cended the pulpit, but the audience was
the smallest he had ever witnessed. He
clearly saw that some secret influence had
been employed to restrain the attendance
of the people. He had purposed to expound

to his audience the second table of the
law, “ but thereof in that sermon he spoke
very little.” Mortified and grieved by
the appearance of such a total want of
love for the gospel, despising that timidity
which restrained men from hearing the
word of life, all his enthusiasm burst forth,
and he felt himself, as it were, transported
by his piety beyond the bounds even of
charitable allowances. He reasoned from
his own consciousness; and knowing the
hazard to which he had exposed himself.
by preaching, he thought it indeed a most
grievous dereliction, when men refused the
least dangerous part, namely, to hear, the
holy gospel. Nor was he wrong in his
conclusion. The true way of knowing the
sincerity of any man’s religious profession,
is by observing his conduct in the hour of
danger and persecution; and he who
shrinks cowardly from witnessing a good
confession, subjects himself to a charge of
being one who has never in any degree felt
the influence of religion. To be pious only
in the day of prosperity, when the world
smiles fair on every outward prospect, but
afterwards to conform to the world in
adversity, when by so doing persecution is
avoided, or our own purposes served, is like
a hypocrite who covers himself with a
mask to further his intentions, but who
throws it off whenever his guilty purposes
are accomplished. Of what avail is pro-
fession at all, unless it be accompanied by
a corresponding practice? and of what
avail is it to pretend to have a concern for
the servants of God—the ministers of
truth, unless it be accompanied by a reso-
lution to stand by them both in prosperity
and adversity? We must say, that the
conduct of VVishart’s friends in the west,
and that of his hearers at Haddington at
this juncture, was not that conduct which
they had previously professed. And it
must have been peculiarly discouraging to
that good man, to behold such a lamenta-


44
SCOTS WORTHIES.








ble decay of religious zeal, when his whole
soul was occupied by love to God, and
concern for the immortal interests of his
countrymen.
Wishart thus felt keenly the unpropitious
prospects before him, and in the pulpit he
gave utterance to his feelings. “ O Lord,”
he cried in the beginning of his discourse,
“ how long shall it be that thy holy word
shall be despised, and men shall not regard
their own salvation ? I have heard of thee,
Haddington, that in thee would have been
at any vain play two or three thousand
people,* and now, to hear the messenger
of the eternal God, of all the town and
parish, cannot be numbered one hundred
persons. ' Sore and fearful shall the plagues
be that shall ensue, because of this thy
contempt. With fire and sword shalt then
be plagued. Yea, thou Haddington in
special, strangers shall possess thee; and
you, the present inhabitants, shall either in
:ondage serve your enemies, or else ye
shall be chased from your own habitations;
and that because ye have not known, nor
will not now know, the time of God’s mer—
ciful visitation.” “ In such vehemency and
threatening,” says Knoxfr “ continued that
servant of God, near an hour and a half;
in the which he declared all the plagues
that ensued, as plainly as after our eyes
saw them performed.” Towards the end
of his discourse, however, his characteristic
meekness, magnanimity, and benevolence
returned, and he said, “ I have forgotten
myself, and the matter I should have
treated of ; but let these my last words
concerning public preaching remain in
your minds, till God send you new comfort.”
He then proceeded to make a few remarks
on the second table of the law; and, as if
impressed with the conviction that his end
was at hand, he took farewell of his audi-
Plays were wont to be acted here on an open
grassy plain.
1- Historie, page 53.
ence, as one whose face they should see no
more in the flesh.
The sermon at Haddington was the last
which VVishart preached. He spoke of
his own end as certain, for he saw that the
cardinal had so ensnared him as to make
escape impossible. His friends were deeply
grieved, and in the afternoon of that very
day he took a last farewell of them all
with great affection and solemnity, espe-
cially of Douglas of Langniddry, who was
under the necessity of returning home that
night, chiefly on Knox’s account, whom he
wished to be out of the way of danger, as
he was well aware of the whole proceedings
of the cardinal with the earl of Bothwell,
since the former had arrived in Edinburgh.
Knox could hardly be prevailed upon to
separate from his revered instructor, for
whom he now felt the most filial affection.
As W ishart was to leave Haddington for
the house or castle of Ormiston, Knox en-
treated that he might be permitted to ac-
company him, but to this “*ishart would
by no means consent. He affectionately
embraced him, but advised him to depart,
as he knew that Knox had brought himself
under the notice of the cardinal, by his at-
tachment to him. “Return to your bairnes,”
said the martyr mildly, meaning his pupils,
“and God blesse zou. Ane is sufficient
for a sacrifice at this time.”
The Reformer then commanded that the
two-handed sword, which Knox had been
accustomed to carry, should be taken from
him. Knox complied with his request,
and, overwhelmed with sorrow, returned to
Langniddry with the father of his pupils,
Hugh Douglas.
All that night, however, W ishart re-
mained in Haddington, and in the morning
he went on foot to Ormiston, in the midst
of a severe storm, accompanied by Cock-
burn, the owner of that place, Sandilands
\ of Calder, and Crichton of Brunston. But
‘ now the time was come in which this


i
GEORGE WISHART.
45


martyr was to be delivered into the hands
of his bitter persecutors. The plans of the
cardinal had taken effect, and so resolved
was he to apprehend Wishart, that he had
secretly left Edinburgh, and on the same
night in which Wishart went to Ormiston,
the primate, unknown to the martyr or his -'
fi'iends, arrived at Elphingstone castle, a
place about two miles distant from Or-
miston.
The cardinal had previously been with
Arran, the regent of the kingdom, who
was wholly under his control, and desired
that he would send his own servants to
seize Wishart, a request with which Arran
very unwillingly complied. Wishart, in
the mean while, his mind strongly impress-
ed with the impending danger, displayed
all that magnanimity and patience which
true religion so effectually imparts. His
behaviour was, as usual, devout, expressing
an entire resignation to the will of God.
After supper, he delivered to the inmates
of Cockburn’s family a most consoling dis-
course on the death of God’s children, at
the end of which he pleasantly said, “ Me-
thinkes I desire earnestlie to slepe ; let us
sing a psalme.” He appointed the 51st*
Psalm to be sung, which had been turned
* The following is the psalm which Wishart
sung in the castle of Ormiston on the night of his
apprehension. It is the 51st, and the reader can
compare it with the translation now adopted in the
version authorized by the Scottish church.
“ .llz'serere mez', Deus. Psal. li.
“ Haue mercie on me, God of might,
Of mercie Lord and King;
For thy mercie is set full right
Aboue all eirdly thing.
Therefore I cry baith day and night,
And with my hert sall sing,
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Haue mercie on me (O gude Lord)
Efter thy greit mercie.
My sinfull life does me remord,
Quhilk sair has greuit thee :
Bot thy greit grace hes mee restord,
Throw grace, to libertie :
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”

i
into Scottish rhyme, and began thus,
“ Haue mercy on me, God of might ;’
which being sung, he retired to his cham-
ber, adding these words,“ And grant us
quiet rest.” Alas! he little knew that
“ Et seczmdum mult-z'tudinem.
“ Gude Lord, I knaw my wickednes,
Contrair to thy command,
Rebelland ay with cmelnes,
And led me in ane band
To Sathan, quha is merciles :
Zit, Lord, heir me cryand,
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Quhat king can tell the multitude,
Lord, of thy greit mercie,
Sen sinners hes thy celsitude
Resisted cruellie.
Zit na sinner will thou seclude,
That this will cry to thee,
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
“ T ibi soZi peccarz'.
“ Only to thee I did ofi‘end,
And mekill euill hes done,
T hrow quhilk appeirandly defence
To me is nane abone :
Thus men will judge thy just vengeance
Hes put me from thy throne.
Zit to thy mercie with thee will I go.
'l‘hoght thou, gude Lord, be judged thus,
Full fals and wrangouslie,
O God sa. gude and gracious,
Let their judging vincust be,
And shaw thy mercie plenteous,
Quhilk mot vs justifie.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Consauit into sin I am,
My wickednes thoght thou behald,
Quhilk I contracted of Adams
Sinnand right manifald.
My mother als did eik the same,
And I to sin was sald.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Bot zit the Lord Omnipotent,
My cairfull care did cure,
At font when I was impotent,
Fragill, vaine, vylde and pure
Then helpit me that King potent,
In my misaventure.
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
“ Asperges me.
“ \Vith isope, Lord, thou sprinkle me.
And then I sall be cleene,
And cleerer then maid sall I be,
Than euer snaw hes bene.
Zit of my clenenes, thy mercie
The rute is euer seene.
To thy mercie with thee will I go


SCOTS WORTHIES.



46

the arch-enemy was at hand, and that, like
his great Master, he was almost on the
point of being betrayed into the hands of
those who had long thirsted for his blood.
At midnight, ‘however, the trampling
of horses was heard; the family were
thrown into confusion, as it was found that
the house was surrounded by armed men.
The party was commanded by the earl of
Bothwell, high sheriff of the county, who
had been commissioned by the governor
This isope is humilitie,
Right law intill ascence;
The snaw sa white in all degree,
Betakens innocence.
For, and thir twa do gouerne me,
I sall do nane ofl’ence.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”
“ Ne projz'cz'as me.
“ O gude Lord, cast me not away
From thy perfyte presence,
Sen that I grant my sinnes ay .
Hes done thee greit offence;
And I sall praise, baith night and day,
Thy greit magnificence.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Take not from me thy godly Spreit
In my adversitie;
For till my saull it is full sweit,
\Vhen sinne besettes mee;
And thow sall make my saull full meit
Unto thy Majestic.
To thy mercie with thee will I go."
“ Reddc mz'hz'.
“ Griue me the blythnes and the blis
Of my sweit Sauiour ;
For throw his bitter dcid I mis
Of hell the dintis dour,
And in this mortall life, hee is
My strang defence and tour.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Confirme thy Spreit most principall
Into mee, throw thy grace ;
For sinne right lang held me in thrall.
And put me from thy face;
Yet vnto thee, Lord, will I call
Into my hauie cace.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”
as a a
“ Quom'am si coluz'sses.
“ Gif thou had pleased sacrifice,
I suld them offered thee ;

W
and the cardinal to take Wishart prisoner.
Bothwell desired a conference with Cock~
burn, the chief of Ormiston, whose friend
and guest Wishart was, and told him his
instructions. Cockburn at first refused to
deliver him up, thinking, that by contriving
a delay, that Wishart would get time to
escape ; but Bothwell, in virtue of his
authority as sheriff, declared to him that
it was in vain for him to hold out his house,
—-that all resistance was useless, for the
But thou wilt nought sic auarice,
For thow art wonder free,
And giues vs thy benefites,
Throw Christes blude freely.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Brint sacrifice is na delite
Unto thy liIajestie.
Thou caris nocht of it ane mite,
For sinne to satisfie;
For onlie Christ did make vs quite
Of all enormitie.
'l‘o thy mercie with thee will I go."
>3~
“ Bemlcuefizc Domz'yze.
“ To Syon, Lord, bee gude againe,
Efter thy godly will ;
And let thy louing there remaine,
Thy promise to fulfill :
For Mount Syon, with greit disdaine,
In tln'all is hidder till.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”
Jerusalem did get ane fall ;
IIer wallis were made full law:
For she miskenned the God of all,
And dayly brake his law:
But thow sall put her out of thrall,
\Vhen shee her God does knaw.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”
“ Tzmc acceptczbz's.
“ Then sacrifice thow sall accept,
Of truth and righteousnes,
Conforming to thy trew precept,
And to thy gentilnes :
For no man then sall thou except
Into their neid and stres.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.
Then calfes and brint sacrifice
Thy alter sall repleit,
Then greiter glore and benefice
Thow sall make for vs meit ;
Vi'here, day and night, wee sall not ceise
Ay singand with sainctes sweit.
To thy mercie with thee will I go.”


GEORGE
WISHART. 47



governor and the cardinal, with a great
force, were at hand, and that, indeed, the
cardinal was then at Elphingstone, only
two miles distant: but if he (Ormiston,)
would deliver Wishart into his hands, he
would promise on his honour that he would
be safe, and that it would be out of the
cardinal’s power to do him harm ; and to
remove Cockburn’s honourable scruples,
Bothwell solemnly pledged himself that
he would answer for his safety.
Cockburn, seeing that resistance was
vain, went immediately to his guest, to
whom he reported the whole proceedings.
Wishart heard him with his usual calm-
ness and fortitude, and mildly said, “ Open
the gates: the will of God be done.” The
earl entered the house, and Wishart being
conducted into his presence, thus addressed
him: “ My lord, I praise my God that so
honourable a man as your lordship receives
me this night, in the presence of these
noblemen; for I am assured, that, for your
honour’s sake, you will suffer nothing to
be done against me but by the order of the
law. I am not ignorant that all their law
is nothing else but corruption, that they
may shed the blood of the saints; but I
fear less to die openly, than to be murdered
in secret.” To this most affecting and
interesting appeal, Bothwell answered, “ I
shall not only preserve your body from
violence, if any be purposed against you in
violation of all law; but also I solemnly
promise, in the presence of these gentlemen,
upon my honour, that neither the governor
nor the cardinal shall be able to harm you;
but I shall retain you in mine own hand,
and in mine own house, either till I set
you at liberty, or restore you to the same
place in which I have received you.” This
solemn promise being given in the presence
of various gentlemen, they said individually
to Bothwell, “ My lord, if ye will do as ye
have spoken, and as we think your lordship
will do. then do we promise unto your
l
l
i
l
I

lordship, that ‘not only we ourselves shall
serve you all the days of our life, but also
we shall procure the whole professors of
the truth in Lothian to do the same. And
upon either the preservation of this our
brother, or upon his delivery again into
our hands, we being reasonably advertised
to receive him, that we, in the name and
behalf of our friends, shall deliver to your
lordship, or any sufficient man that shall
deliver to us this servant of God again,
our band of man-rent, in manner requisite.”
Bothwell again solemnly pledged his hon-
our, and Wishart being put into his hands,
he departed with him to Elphingstone,
where the cardinal then was.
To Wishart, however, death seemed cer-
tain, although he relied much on Both-
well’s honour: for as he knew the cardinal’s
utter worthlessness, he dreaded the idea of
his taking private revenge. “ I fear less,”
he says to Bothwell, “to die openly, than
to be murdered in secret.” The furious
zeal of Beaton, in whatever concerned the
stability of the church, would, Wishart
knew, in this case completely overcome all
the prudence and policy which, in secular
affairs, the cardinal had hitherto so com-
pletely displayed. “ Instead of preserving
Wishart,” says Dr Cook, “and thus keep-
ing the Protestants, from dread of accele-
rating the destruction of their beloved
teacher, under restraint, he thirsted for his
death, and hastened by every means an
event, with which he little knew that the
termination of his own career was so inti-
mately connected.
Bothwell, as we have already said, can
ried W'ishart to Elphingstone castle, where
the cardinal then was. But the rage of
the cardinal, though he had now got his
greatest enemy into his hands, did not stop
here. He made inquiry concerning the
persons who were at Ormiston in company
with V'Vishart, and being informed that

John Sandilands the younger, of the house


48
SCOTS WORTHIES.



of Calder?‘ the Lord of Brunston, by name
Crichton, and Cockburn of Ormiston, were
all present, he immediately commanded
that these should be apprehended. By
this time his whole retinue had arrived at
Elphingstone; and they, with some of the
regent’s soldiers, were sent to apprehend
Wishart’s friends. The noise of horsemen
was again that night heard by the servants
at Ormiston, of which they gave immediate
notice to their superiors. While they were
consulting among themselves what now could
be the motive of their visiters, the soldiers
had seized that part of the building which
Knox designates “ the outer and inner
close.” They quickly called for Ormiston
and Sandilands of Calder, who, on appear-
ing, demanded the cause of their visit; and
they received the answer, that it was to
bring them, as also the Lord of Brunston,
to the governor at Elphingstone. They
soon perceived that their destruction was
also intended, or, at any rate, that the cardi-
nal would take his revenge on them in some
way or other for the open countenance they
had given to Wishart; and therefore, con-
triving a delay under the pretence of put-
ting themselves in readiness to ride, Bruns-
ton made his escape, by conveying himself
secretly to the wood of Ormiston; but the
other two were apprehended, and carried
before the cardinal. They were both com-
mitted prisoners to Edinburgh castle, where
Sandilands of Calder remained till he had
it Now the noble family of Torphichen. The
chiefs of Calder were long at the head of the famous
order of the Knights Hospitallers in Scotland. They
were early and steady friends to the Reformation.
In the great hall of Calder-House, the illustrious
Knox dispensed the holy eucharist, for the first
time, it is said, after the reformed manner, in Sect-
land, which,—h0wever, is not the case, as we find
that Wishart administered this ordinance at Mon-
trose. A portrait of “the reformer ofa kingdom,”
as Milton emphatically calls Knox, hangs in this
hall with an appropriate inscription,-—a hall so sa-
cred for associations of civil and religious liberty.
given satisfaction to the primate; but his
friend, the lord of Ormiston, “freed him-
self, by leaping off the wall of the castle,
betwixt ten of the clock and eleven before
noon.” Had Knox been found with them,
he also would have been taken; and, as he
had already brought on himself the hatred
of the cardinal, in all probability he would
have suffered with his friend the martyr.
Wishart was first conveyed from Elphing-
stone to Edinburgh castle, and thence back
again, to the house of Hailes, the earl of
Bothwell’s principal residence in East
Lothian. During this time the negotiation
took place for the delivery of Wishart into
the hands of the cardinal. “ As gold and
women,” says Knox, “have corrupted all
worldly and fleshly men from the beginning,
so did they Bothwell; for the cardinal gave
gold, and that largely; and the queen, with
whom the said earl was then on bad terms
(Knox writes glunders), promised him
favours in all his lawful suits to women, if
he would deliver Wishart to be kept in the
castle of Edinburgh. He made some re-
sistance at first, by reason of his promise.
But an efi’eminctte man cannot long with-
stand the assaults of a gracious queen, and
so was the servant of God transported to
Edinburgh.” Spottiswoode also says, the
“ queen-mother, at the cardinal’s desire,
being earnest with the earl to have him
(Wishart) sent again to the castle of Edin—
burgh, albeit in regard to his promise, he
refused a long time, yet overcome in the
, end by her entreaty, he yielded. And
thus Wishart a second time was taken to
the castle.”
I Wishart was not permitted to remain
‘i long in Edinbiwgh. The cardinal was
then in that city, presiding in a convention
of prelates, who had assembled for the
purpose of redressing some abuses of the
church, “ and reforming the lives of the
clergy.” The deliberations of this assembly,
l however, like those of the one which met




GEORGE WISHART.
49




in 1549, never took effect. The cardinal,
having now got Wishart completely into
his power, speedily broke up the convention,
and afi'aid of delay, proceeded in great
haste with his prisoner to St Andrews,
where he summoned a convocation of the
prelates to assemble on the 27th day of
February, 1546. Wvishart, in the mean
time, was committed. a close prisoner to
the castle of St Andrews.
As the cardinal, from the very first, and
long before he got Wishart into his power,
had resolved on his death, it may easily be
supposed that he knew what to do. We
have already alluded to the dispute which
took place between him and the archbishop
of Glasgow, respecting the priority of their
respective Sees before the pope’s legate;
and to the ludicrous and disgraceful scene
which took place between them at Glasgow.
The conduct of the archbishop of Glasgow
had been most offensive to Beaton’s pride ;
and, as might be expected, a deadly animo-
sity subsisted between the two prelates.
The former had held forth, that he was an
archbishop in his own diocese, and would
give place to no man,—~that the power of
the cardinal was borrowed from Rome,
and pertained only to his own person, and
not to his bishopric; for it was a probable
case that his successor would not be a
cardinal, but that his (the archbishop of
Glasgow’s) dignity was inseparable from
his office, and would belong to all that
ever should be bishops of Glasgow ;——in
fine, and what was most offensive of all to
the cardinal,—that he (the archbishop of
Glasgow) was a bishop, when the other
was only Beaten, before he got the abbey
of Aberbrothwick. These sentiments of
the prelate of Glasgow being spoken with-
out reserve, and having been spread through-
out the church, had made such a variance
between him and the primate, “ that the
enmity was judged mortal, and without all
hope of reconciliation.”


day, on an occasion somewhat similar,
though of far more importance, Pilate and
Herod were made friends, so, in the eager-
ness of the cardinal to procure the condem-
nation of Wishart fi'om the most exalted
dignitaries of the church, he laid aside his
resentment against the archbishop of Glas-
gow, and wrote to him first of all, in most
friendly terms, craving his presence and
assistance, in order to the suppression oi
this great enemy of the church. Nor was
the prelate of Glasgow slow in his obedience.
As if glad of the opportunity of commencing
again a friendship with the cardinal, he
hastened to St Andrews at the time
appointed ; “sat next to the cardinal,” says
Knox, “ waited and subscribed next in
rank, and lay over the east block-house
with the said cardinal, till the martyr of
God was consumed with fire.”
The archbishop of Glasgow, however
on his arrival at St Andrews, being a man,
on the whole, of greater caution and pru-
dence, suggested to the cardinal the pro-
priety of an application to the governor, to
grant a commission to some layman of
rank, appointing him to be the medium of
executing justice upon \Vishart, that the
odium of putting to death a preacher so
universally beloved, might not rest wholly
with the clergy.
The archlfiishop of Glasgow now made
no farther opposition, and accordingly the
cardinal served )Yishart with a summons
to appear before him and his clergy, in the
abbey church, on the last day of February
(which was the next day), to answer for
his seditious and heretical doctrines. “ No-
thing,” says Dr Cook, “can be conceived
more irritating, or more adapted to render
oppression doubly grieving, than a regard
to the forms of justice, when there is a
firm conviction, that they who use them
intend their xiolation.” I‘Vishart strongly
} felt this injustice ; and when, by the order
But, as in one 2
of the cardinal, he was cited to appear by
c.


50
SCOTS WORTHIES.






the dean of St Andrews, he took this form from counterfeit metals, so the proper trial
for jest, seeing that he was already a
prisoner, and wholly in the cardinal’s
power. He replied to the citation, “ The
cardinal has no need to summon me, for I
am already in his power, and kept fast
bound in irons; so that he can compel me
to answer when he pleases. I am not
unprovided to render an account of my
doctrine, but to show at once what men ye
are, it is well done to adhere to your forms
and constitutions.
On the following day this most illegal
trial took place. The cardinal displayed
on the occasion all the ensigns of his
authority, that, by the grandeur of the
procession, and the show of armed men,
he might make an impression on the
people. The place of assembly was the
abbey-church of St Andrews, into which
Wishart was brought by the captain of the
castle. The court was opened by itSt-I‘IIIOII
from John Winram, the sub-prior of the
abbey, a man of great learning, enlightened
mind, and a secret friend to the reformed
doctrines, who preached by appointment of
the cardinal. He took for his text the
13th chapter of St Matthew’s Gospel, and
discoursed concerning the good seed. The ‘
whole sermon was on the nature of heresy,
but was delivered in such a manner as
applied more justly to the cardinal and his
colleagues, than to the accused.
course he divided into four parts. The
first was a short declaration of the meaning
of the evangelist.

of heresy was the word of God. The third
part of the discourse was concerning the
causes of the increase of heresy within the
realm, which, without hesitation, he as-
cribed to the ignorance of those who had
the charge of men’s souls; who, because
they did not themselves understand the
word of God, were unable to lead back
those into the right path, who went astray;
and, in defining the character of those who
ought to be able to win again the teachers
of heresy, by the sword of the Spirit, which
is the word of God, he supported his posi-
tion by St Paul’s charge to Timothy :—
“ A bishop must be faultless, as becometh
the minister of God, not stubborn nor
angry, no drunkard, no fighter, not given
to filthy lucre, but hospitable, one that
loveth charity, sober-minded, righteous,
holy, temperate, and such as cleaveth unto
the true word of doctrine; that he may
prevail with wholesome learning, and im-
pugn what is said against him.” He ex-
pressed some doubt about the propriety of
punishing heretics in the world, founding
his opinions on the words of the parable on
the wheat and the tares, “ Let them both
grow together till the harvest.” The con-
clusion of his discourse, however, was in-
consistent, for he asserted that heresy
‘ ought to be opposed by the church and
His dis-
The second was con- ‘
cerning the meaning of the good seed,
which he declared to be the word of God,
and heresy the bad seed; and he defined
heresy to be “ a false opinion, directly would probably have called him to an
repugnant to the word of God, and perti-
naciously defended.” After laying down
some rules for the discovery of heresy,
which could only be ascertained by the
scriptures, he said, that, as the touchstone
was made use of for distinguishing gold
i account for some of his premises.
l
state, and that those who were guilty of it
might be lawfully put to death by the civil
magistrate.
It may be readily supposed, that the
cardinal, who was not devoid of talent, did
not at all relish VVinram’s discourse, and
had he been in other circumstances, he
But at
that time he had affairs of much greater
importance on hand. Accordingly after
the sermon, Winram descended from the
pulpit, and was succeeded by Wishart
himself, whom they caused to ascend there,





GEORGE WI SHART.
51


,_
that he might hear his accusation and that they knew what his words and doctrine
articles. Opposite to him, on an eminence were, which he had ever taught since his
erected for the purpose, stood a priest of ' return to Scotland, that he might not
the name of John Lauder, who acted as I perish unjustly, to the great danger of his
his accuser, and who addressed him with
such coarseness and reproach, as would
have disgraced the tyranny of a more
barbarous age. The mildness and humi-
lity of Wishart presented a striking con-
trast to the furious zeal of this fanatical
priest. He fell on his knees, and offered
up a short petition to heaven. In the
mean time Lauder went from one accusa-
tion to another, foaming at the mouth with
rage, and even spitting in Wishart’s face,
and calling out to him, “ Thou runagate,
traitor, thief, what answerest thou to these
sayings, which we have duly proved by
sufficient witnesses against thee ?”
Wishart, throughout this scene of perse-
cution and abuse, preserved all his charac-
teristic meekness and magnanimity. He
calmly made answer, that they had alleged
against him, as a christian man, many
abominable sayings, which he thought
abomination not only to teach, but also to
think; and he besought them quietly to
hear him, that they might the more equi-
tably judge of his doctrine. He desired to
be heard, he said, for three causes. F irst,
because, through preaching of the word of
God, his glory is made manifest; and it
was reasonable for the advancement of
God’s glory, that they should hear him
teaching the pure word of God, without
any dissimulation; secondly, because their
own well-being originated from God’s word;
for by it he worketh all things. It would
he therefore an unrighteous thing, if they
should stop their ears, when he truly preach-
ed the word of God. And, thirdly, because
their allegations set forth many pestilent,
blasphemous, and abominable words, not
coming by the inspiration of God, but from
the devil, to the great hazard of his life.
It would be just, therefore. and reasonable,


accusers. He besought them, therefore,
to hear him, for the glory of God, their
own peace of mind, and the safeguard of
his own life, while he recited his doctrine,
without any colouring or dissimulation.
Wishart then began with great modesty
to give an account of his sermons, declaring
that he had never taught any doctrines
contrary to the ten commandments, the
apostles’ creed, and the Lord’s prayer.
First and chiefly, he said, since he had
returned to Scotland, he had taught these
in the mother tongue. He had, moreover,
expounded the Epistle to the Romans in
Dundee, and he would show them faithfully
what fashion and manner he used, when he
taught without any dread of human autho-
rity. As \Vishart was thus proceeding, he
was interrupted by Lauder, who again ex-
claimed, “ Thou heretic, runagate, traitor,
thief, it was not lawful for thee to preach;
thou hast taken the power into thine own
hand, without any authority from the church !
We forethink thou hast been a preacher so
long.” The assembled prelates also pro-
hibited him from discoursing, saying, “ It
we give him liberty to preach, he is so
crafty, and in holy Scripture so exercised,
that he will persuade the people to his
opinion, and raise them against us.” “ They
willed him,” says Spottiswoode, “to answer
simply, yea or nay, fearing, if liberty was
given him to speak, he should draw some
of the hearers to his mind.”
Being thus interrupted with the utmost
violence, and finding that it was impossible
for him, in the situation in which he was
placed, to make his defence, Wiishart at
once appealed to more competent and un-
biassed judges. Lauder, his accuser and
most virulent enemy, took this opportunity
of flattering the cardinal. Triumphantly


SCOTS WORTHIES,

enumerating his many splendid titles, he
asked the martyr, if he who was archbishop
of St Andrews, bishop of Mirepoix in
France, chancellor of Scotland, commen-
dator (or abbot) of Aberbrothwick, Legatus
mat-us, Zegatus a Zatere, and the second
person in the kingdom, was not to be
regarded as a proper judge? Wishart
calmly answered, “ I condemn not the lord
cardinal, neither do I refuse him, but I
desire the word of God to be my judge,
and some of the temporal estate, with cer-
tain of your lordships here present,because
I am my lord governor’s prisoner.” When
Wishart had thus spoken, some of his
enemies called out, “such man, such judge,”
meaning that the governor and others of
his friends were heretics like himself.
This appeal of Wishart greatly irritated
Beaton, and he would have immediately
condemned him without any farther cere-
mony, had he not been reminded that it was
proper that the accusation should be again
read, and the replies heard to its different
parts, lest the people might think him
wrongfully condemned. “ It is evident that
the other prelates, aware of the impression
which the death of Wishart would probably
leave, were anxious to avoid all irregularity
in their proceedings, and although they had
failed in procuring the sanction of the civil
power, they persuaded the cardinal to hear
WIishartFH“ Eighteen articles were accord-
The following are the articles exhibited against
the martyr, and more absurd and misrepresented
calumnies were neverinvented against any man :—
“ Art. 1.—Thou false hereticke, runagate,
traytor, and thief, deceiver of the people, despisest
the church, and in like case contemnes my lord
governour’s authority. And this we know of
surety, that when thou preachedst in Dundie, and
was charged by my lord governour's authority to
desist ; neverthelesse thou wouldest not obey, but
persevered in the same : and therefore the bishop
of Breachen cursed thee, and delivered thee into
the devil’s hand, and gave thee then commandment,
that thou shouldest preach no more ; yet notwith-
standing thou didst continue obstinately.


ingly exhibited against the prisoner, and
these were brought against him in such a
manner as to affix a lasting disgrace on
those who compiled them. His opinions
“ Art. '2.—Thou false hereticke didst say, that
a priest standing at the altar saying masse, was like
a fox wagging his taile in July.
Answer.--“ My lords, I said not so. These
were my sayings; The moving of the body out-
ward, without inward moving of the heart, is
nought else but the playing of an ape, and not the
true serving of God, for God is a secret searcher
of men’s hearts. Therefore, who will truly adore
and honour God, he must in spirit and verity
honour him.—Then the accuser (Lauder) stopped
his mouth with another article.
“ Art. 3.—-Thou false hereticke preachest against
the sacraments, saying, that there are not seven
sacraments.
“ Art. 4.—Thou false hereticke hast openly
taught, that auricular confession is not a blessed
sacrament, and thou saist, that we should onely
confesse us to God, and to no priest.
“ Art. 5.—Thou false hereticke didst say openly,
that it was necessary for every man to know and
understand his baptisme ; which is contrary to
generall councels, and the estates of holy church.
“ Art. 6.-Thou false hereticke, traytor, and
thiefe, thou saidst, that the sacrament of the altar
' was but a piece of bread baken upon the ashes, and
no other thing else; and all that is there done, is
but a superstitious rite, against the commandment
of God.
“ Art. 7.—Th0u false hereticke didst say, that
extreme unction was not a sacrament.
Answer.-—“ My lords, forsooth I never taught
of extreme unction in my doctrine, whether it was
a sacrament or no.
“ Art. 8.--Thou false hereticke didst say, that
holy water is not so good as wash, and such like.
Thou contemnest conjuring, and sayest, that holy
churches cursing availeth not.
“ Art. 9.—Thou false hereticke and runagate,
hast said that every man is a priest ; and likewise
thou sayest, that the pope hath no more power
than another man.
“Art. 10.——Thou false hereticke saidst, that man had no free-will, but is like to the Stoics,
which say, that it is not in man’s will to do any
thing, but that all desire and concupiscence cometh
of God, of whatsoever kinde it be of.
“ Art. ll.—Thou false hereticke sayest, it is as
lawfull to eat flesh upon Friday, as on Sunday.
“ Art. 12.—Thou false hereticke doest say,
that We should not pray unto saints, but to God


GEORGE WISHART.
53

were most grievously misrepresented, as if
indeed the cardinal had resolved on his
destruction at all hazards. He endeavoured
in vain to convey to his persecutors an
accurate idea of them; they either would
not, or could not, understand him. The
patience of Beaten had been long ere this
time exhausted. In order to bring the
trial to a conclusion, it was found that
onely, say whether thou hast said this or no, say
shortly.
“ Art. l3.—Thou false hereticke hast preached
plainely, that there is no purgatory, and that it is
a fained thing, for any man after this life to be
punished in purgatory.
“Art. l4.—Thou false hereticke hast taught
plainly against the vows of monks, friers, nuns, and
priests, saying, that whosoever was bound to such
like vows, they vowed themselves to the state of
damnation. Moreover, that it was lawfull for
priests to marry wives, and not to live sole.
“ Art. l5.-Thou false hereticke and runagate
sayest, that thou wilt not obey our generall or pro-
vinciall counsells.
“ Art. 16.—Thou hereticke sayest, that it is vain
to build to the honour of God costly churches,
seeing that God remaineth not in churches made
by men’s hands, nor yet can God be in little space,
as betwixt the priest’s hands.
“ Art. l7.——Thou false hereticke contemnest
fasting, and sayest thou shouldest not fast.
Answer.—-“ My lords, I finde that fasting is
commanded in the scriptures, therefore Iwere a
slanderer of the gospel, if I contemned fasting.
And not so onely, but I have learned by experi-
ence, that fasting is good for the health, and con-
servation of the body. But God only knoweth
who fasteth the true fast.
“ Art. 18._Thou false hereticke hast preached
openly, saying, that the soules of men shall sleepe
to the latter day ofjudgment, and shall not obtaine
life immortall untill the last day.
Answer._“ God full of mercy and goodnesse
forgive them that say such things of me. I wet,
and know surely by the word of God, that he who
hath begun to have the faith of Jesus Christ, and
to beleeve firmely in him, I know surely, I say,
that the souls of that man shall never sleepe, but
ever shall live an immortall life, the which life
from day to day is renewed in grace, and augment-
ed. nor yet shall ever perish or have an end, but
shall ever live immortall with Christ the head.
To the which life all that believe in him shall come,
and rest in eternal] glory. Amen.”

l Wishart maintained opinions contrary to
those received by the catholic church; and,
because he obstinately defended them, he
was condemned as a heretic, and sentenced
to die at the stake the following day.
TESTIMONY
OF
GEORGE WISHART.
The multitude being removed, Wishart
heard his sentence with dignified com-
posure. He kneeled down before his per--
secutors with all the piety of the first
martyrs, and thus prayed: “ O immortal
God, how long wilt thou suffer the rage
and great cruelty of the ungodly to exercise
their fury on thy servants, who do further
thy word in the world, seeing they desire
the contrary, that is, to choke and destroy
thy doctrine and truth, by the which thou
hast showed thyself unto the world, which
was overwhelmed with ignorance and de-
spising of thy holy name? O Lord, we
know surely, that thy true servants must
suffer, for thy name’s sake, persecution,
affliction, and troubles in this present life,
which is nevertheless but a shadow, as thou
hast showed to us by thy prophets and
apostles. But we desire thee, merciful
Father, that thou wouldst preserve, defend,
and help thy congregation, whom thou hast
chosen before the beginning of the world,
and give them thy grace to hear thy word,
and to be thy true servants in this present
life.”
After this prayer, he rose from his knees,
and meekly heard the conclusion of the
sentence. He saw at once, that the great
aim of the cardinal all along had been to
ruin him, and now, fi‘om the time in which
he had been delivered into his power, he
expected little mercy or forbearance.
Whether the treachery of Bothwell would
at this time be recalled to his memory, or



SCOTS WORTHIES.






F
whether the illegality of the whole proceed- '
ings of the cardinal without the governor’s
warrant overcame him, we cannot say;
certain it is, that his thoughts were occu-
pied with his fate, and he prepared himself
for it with all the courage and resignation
of a christian. When this mock trial was
concluded, he was led back to the castle of
St Andrews, and lodged in the captain’s
room. The greater part of the night he
spent in prayer and other acts of devotion,
while his unaffected piety, his awful situa-
tion, his meekness and resignation, and the
injustice done to him by the cardinal, made
that officer behave to him with the greatest
respect. On the same day, the cardinal
issued out an order, that no person should
pray for the heretic, under the severest
ecclesiastical censures.
The rage of Wishart’s enemies did not
stop here. Determined, as was indeed their
common practice, to add insult to cruelty,
they sent two friars to him on the following
morning, acquainting him that he must die
that day, and exhorting him to make con-
fession. To these he answered, that he
had no business with friars, nor did he wish
any conference with them; but if they were
disposed to gratify him, he desired to confer
with the learned man who yesterday preach-
ed to them. This request was granted,
and accordingly Winram, the sub-prior,
attended him. The excellent priest, after
a long conference with Wishart, asked him
if he wished to receive the sacrament. To
this the martyr willingly assented, and in-
deed expressed his anxiety to partake of it,
according to our Saviour’s institution. The
sub-prior would most willingly have grant-
ed Wishart’s request, had it depended on
him alone ; for, being himself a secret
‘ favourer of the truth, he was already fully
convinced of Wishart’s innocence. Con-
eeiving, however, that it was right to state
the case to his superiors, Winram went to
the bishops, and told them that he had

conferred with the prisoner, who solemnly
affirmed that he was free of all the deadly
crimes laid to his charge ; and that he said
this not out of any desire he had for life,
but that he might manifest his innocency
before men, which was known to God.
These opinions of Winram, as also the
fact of his having already spoken to the
bishops in favour of Wishart, greatly en-
raged the cardinal. He turned fiercely on
Winram, saying, “ You, sir, it is a long
time since we have known what manner
of man you are.” To this Winram answered
nothing, as he perceived that his sentiments,
for a long time suspected, were now fully
known. He only asked if they would allow
the sacrament to be given to the prisoner.
The cardinal conferred a little while with
the prelates, and then answered in name of
them, that it was not reasonable to give
any spiritual benefit to an obstinate heretic
condemned by the church.
Vv'ishart soon got notice that his perse-
cutors had added to their other cruelties,
by denying him the last solemn rites of
religion. On that awful morning be ac-
cepted an invitation from the captain of
the castle to breakfast with him. This, he
said, he did the more willingly, because he
conceived the captain to be a good christian,
and a man fearing God. The captain’s
family assembled on this solemn occasion,
with one or two others. It was indeed an
impressive scene, considering that in a few
hours their guest would expire by a most
revolting and cruel death. The table being
covered, as the custom was, and bread and
wine set upon it, turning to the captain,
the martyr said, “ I beseech you, in the
name of God, and for the love you bear
our Lord Jesus Christ, that you will sit
down in silence a little while, and vouchsafe
me a patient hearing, whilst I give you a
short exhortation, and pray over this bread
and wine, which, as brethren in Christ, we
are about to eat, and then I will bid you





GEORGE WISH ART.
55




heartily farewell.” Upon this he proceeded
to the consecration of the eucharist. He
discoursed nearly half an hour on the
Saviour‘s passion, and the institution of
the Holy Supper, the last sufferings and
death of Christ. He exhorted them to lay
aside all anger, malice, and envy, and to
impress mutual love on their minds, that
so they might become perfect members of
Christ, who makes daily intercession with
the Father, that our sacrifice may be ac-
ceptable by him to eternal life. Giving
thanks, he broke the bread, distributing it
to every one around him; then, having
tasted the wine, he delivered the cup to i
them, exhorting them to remember, in this
his communion with them, the death of the
Lord .Jesus. “ As to myself,” he said,
“there is a more bitter potion prepared
for me, only because I have preached the
true doctrine of Christ, which bringeth
salvation; but pray with me to the Lord
that I may take it patiently, as out of his
hand.” Deeply affected with this impressive
scene, those present received the memorials
of Christ’s sufferings without hesitation.
\Vishart then concluded with a new thanks-
giving; and bidding the family of the
captain a last farewell, he. retired to his
chamber.


In a short time two executioners came ;
to him, one of whom arrayed him in a
black linen dress, and the other fastened
to his body some bags of gunpowder; and
in this dress he was led into an outer room,
till all things were prepared for his death.
The cardinal seems even at this time to
have dreaded an attempt for his rescue.
He commanded all the artillery of the
fortress to be pointed towards the stake;
and, as if to observe the expressions of ,
popular indignation, to show his hatred to
the Reformers, and to satisfy his cruelty
by witnessing the last moments of a man
in whose ashes he fondly hoped all their I
principles would be annihilated, he resolved.

' with the other prelates, to be a witness of
the awful spectacle. The windows and
balconies were hung with tapestry, and
rich cushions laid for the ease of the
primate and his friends. From this place
did he witness, without remorse or sympathy,
the whole proceedings of this melancholy
scene.
A scaffold was erected on the east part
of the castle of St Andrews towards the
abbey, with a large post in the midst of it,
to which the martyr was to be tied. When
all things were ready, he was led forth,
having his hands bound, and guarded to
the place of execution. As he was going
out of the castle gate, some in great poverty
begged alms from him: to whom he said, “I
have not now the use of my hands to give
you alms, but our merciful God, who, out
of his abundance feedeth all men, vouchsafe
to give you those things which are neces-
sary both for soul and body.” Two friars
afterwards met him, calling out to him,
while they presented their crucifixcs, “ Pray
to our lady, that she may intercede for
you with her Son.” But to them he an-
swered with great firmness, “ Cease, tempt
me not, my brethren, I entreat you.”
The martyr by this time was conducted
to the stake. He turned to the spectators,
and entreated them not to be discouraged
from hearing the word of God because of
the sufferings he was about to undergo;
beseeching them at the same time to inform
those who had often heard him PH ach
that the doctrines he taught were no
cunningly devised fables, but the true
gospel of Christ committed to him by the
grace of God, which he was commissioned
to preach, and for which he most willingly
resigned his life. “ For the word’s sake,
and for the true evangel of Jesus Christ,”
said he, “ I suffer this day, not sorrowfiilly,
but with a glad heart and mind. For this
cause I was sent, that I should suffer this
fire for Christ's sake. Consider and behold



56
SCOTS WORTHIES.



my visage; ye shall not see me change my
colour. This great fire I fear not; and so
I pray you to do, if that any persecution
come unto you for the word’s sake, not to,
fear them that slay the body, but rather
Him who has power to slay the soul.”
It would seem that \Vishart had been
charged with the Arabian heresy, which
aflirms, that the soul sleeps till the day of
judgment. This, he said, was a calumny
upon him. “ Some have falsely said that
I hold the opinion that the souls of men
departed sleep after death till the last day;
but I know and believe the contrary, and
am assured that my soul will this night he
with my Saviour in the heavens.” While
he was thus speaking, the executioner came
"\
l\
“Ml,
Illl‘ll ‘
it y
l
l
.ilhl‘lm' / ‘iii’; "
lllll'lll'l' ' I‘ ‘
tr
1
I


up to him, and said, “ I pray your forgive-
ness, for I am not guilty of your death,” to
whom he answered, “ Come hither to me ;”
and, when he approached, he kissed the
cheek of the executioner, saying, “ Lo,
here is a token that I forgive thee, do
thine office.”
Wishart, in his last moments, conducted
himself as became a martyr for the truth
and the cause of religion. The signal
being given for the executioner to kindle
the fire, he kneeled down, and exclaimed
with a loud voice, “ O Saviour of the world,
have mercy upon me: Father of heaven, I
commend my spirit into thy holy hands.”
The fire was now kindled, and the powder
exploded, but life was not immediately
a :,.~:
"1% “it
. .t l


[Burmng of Wishart at St. Andrews, 1546.]
extinguished. The captain of the castle
perceiving that he was still alive, approach-
ed, entreating him to preserve his fortitude,
and to commend himself to God. The
martyr answered in the midst of his suffer—
ings, with unshaken constancy, that, “ though
the flame had scorched his body, it had not

These were his last
The cord which surrounded his
daunted his spirit.”
words.
neck having been more tightly drawn by
the executioner, he soon expired, and the
flames increasing, his body was reduced to
ashes.
Thus died, on the first day of March,



GEORGE WISHART. 57




1546, this distinguished advocate for the
Reformation. His virtues, candour, and
learning, have been admitted by every
historian; while his piety, meekness, and
benevolence, adorned the doctrines which
he openly taught.if
The popish clergy rejoiced at his death,
and extolled the cardinal’s courage for pro-
ceeding in it without the governor’s order;
but the people regarded him as both a
prophet and a martyr. It was also said,
that, abstractly from the grounds of his
suffering, his execution was no less than
murder, in that no writ was obtained for
it, and the clergy could not burn any with—
out a warrant from the secular power.
“ It was impossible for the people to behold
ur moved so cruel an execution. It was remember-
ed also, that the governor had refused his concur-
rence,——that the sanction of the civil authority had
been withheld, and the fate of Wishart was pro-
nounced unjust and illegal. That many of his
opinions were such as the church deemed heretical,
could not be denied; but men had now begun to
appeal to the word of God, as the test of the truth;
and to be subjected to such inhuman torments for
the declaration ofits precepts, was esteemed mon-
strous. The courage, meekness, and patience with
which the martyr had borne his sufferings, produced
a deep effect ; and the invariable results of perse-
cution were soon discernible in a spirit of increasing
investigation, a revulsion from the tyranny of
power, and a steady progress towards the truth."
—-T,/_/tler's Hist. ofScnflanrl, vol. v. page 422.

This stirred up Norman and John Leslie,
of the family of Rothes, William Kirkaldie
of Grange, James Melvill of the family of
Carnbee, Peter Carmichael, and others, to
avenge Mr Wishart’s death. Accordingly,
upon the 28th of May, 1546, not three
months after Mr Wishart suffered, they
surprised the castle early in the morning,
and either secured or turned out the per-
sons that were lodged in it; and came to
the cardinal’s door. He was by this time
alarmed, and had secured it; but upon
their threatening to employ force, he opened
it, (relying for safety partly upon the sanctity
of his office, and partly on his acquaintance
with some of them,) crying, “ I am a priest,
I am a priest.” But this had no effect
upon them; for James Melvill having ex-
horted him in a most solemn manner to
repentance, and having apprized him, that
he was now to avenge Mr Wishart’s death,
he stabbed him twice or thrice, which
ended his wretched days. These persons,
with some others who came in to them, held
the castle for nearly two years, being assist-
ed by England. They had the governor’s
eldest son with them; for he had been put
under the cardinal’s care, and was in the
castle at the time they surprised it. The
castle was at last besieged by the French,
and surrendered upon having the lives thai
were in it secured.



58
SCOTS WORTHIES.



ADAM WALLACE.

F OR four years after the death of Wishart,
the political troubles in which Scotland
was involved, served to suspend the rage
of persecution. A peace, however, was at
last concluded, and the year 1550 termi-
nated the war.
Archbishop Hamilton then commenced
his persecuting career by apprehending
Adam Wallace, and bringing him to trial
and execution. Nothing could be more
impolitic or more infatuated than this pro-
cedure of the primate. Wallace, who is
always described by contemporary histo-
rians as a “simple man,” was of such
humble station in life, as to have secured
him from notice, had not the archbishop
been at once led away by the most impru—
dent rage against the Reformers. The
death of ‘v‘v'allace, in fact, could serve no
purpose at all, but only exasperate to a
greater degree the minds of those who
held the doctrines of the Reformation.
The priests seemed, indeed, by their own
conduct, to be fast hastening their downfall;
so true it is, that the wicked often lay snares
for themselves, and perish by means of their
own devices. But simple as Wallace was,
his simplicity was that of the gospel; he
was not profoundly learned in the wisdom
of the world, but he was well instructed in
the gospel of peace; and as a martyr for
the truth, and a patient and heroic sufferer,
he deserves to be remembered by posterity
with every grateful recollection.
Perhaps his humble station maybe as-

signed as a reason why we know nothing
of him, till about the time of his martyrdom.
But whatever was “ the humble station” 0''
Wallace, it is certain that he and his wife,
whose name was Beatrice Livingston, were
fi~equently in company with the lady of
Ormiston, and that he acted as preceptor
to that lady’s children during the absence
of her husband. What formed the branches
of instruction we are not informed, but the
family was one of considerable note in East
Lothian, and long famed for their adher-
ence to the doctrines of the Reformers. It
will be recollected that the martyr Wishart
was apprehended in the house of Ormiston
and that this baron was one of the martyr’s
greatest friends ; and it will also be recol-
lected, that he was himself apprehended on
that occasion along with Sir John Sandi-
lands of Calder, and con'nnitted prisoner to
the castle of Edinburgh, from which he
made his escape by leaping the wall.
Wallace was not a priest; and the remark
of Keith seems in all likelihood to be true,
“ that the catechising” of the lady Ormiston’s
children, “and also of other children in
the new forms,” the reformed doctrines,
“ made the man to be more taken notice of
than otherwise he would have been.”
Whether this be the case or not, he was
apprehended at Winton in East Lothian,
by the direction of the archbishop of St
Andrews, and brought to his trial in the
church of the Black Friars at Edinburgh.
The apprehension of this inoffensive



ADAM WALLACE.
59



'—
man seems to have been viewed as a great
matter by the primate and his friends; at
least if we may judge from the personages
who assembled on that occasion. With all
the apparatus of rank and power, a scaffold
was erected in the church, and seats were
placed thereon for the reception of the
. ssembly. The regent himself occupied
the chief seat; above him at his back, sat
Gavin Hamilton dean of Glasgow, repre-
senting the archbishop of that see; at the
right hand of the regent sat his natural
brother, the archbishop of St Andrews;
and, at the back of the primate, stood the
official of Lothian. The bishops of Dun-
blane and Moray, the abbot of Dunfermline,
who seems to have thrust himself into
every occasion of persecution, the abbot of
Glenluce, and other churchmen of inferior
degree, with various of the primate’s clergy,
from the city of St Andrews, were also
present. There were also in attendance
the earl of Argyle as justice, and Sir John
Campbell of Lundy, the earl of Huntly,
lord chancellor, the earl of Angus, the
bishop of Galloway, the prior of St Andrews
(afterwards earl of Moray), the bishop of
()rkney, lord Forbes, John VVinram sub-
prior of St Andrews, and behind them
stood the whole senate, and other inferior
officers, the clerk of the register.
Such was the splendid convention in the
church of the Black Friars at Edinburgh,
which met for the trial of Adam \Vallace.
ln the pulpit appeared J<hn Lauder, the
fanatical priest who abused \Yishart at his
trial, and who, on this occasion, acted also
the part of accuser. Arrayed in a surplice
and red hood, Lauder stood forth before a
large congregation, some of whom beheld
the scene with wonder, and others with
contempt and indignation. Lauder seems
to have been plentifully endowed with the
sanguinary ideas of his late master, Beaton,
and he only wanted the power to be fully
as severe. It is not at all improbable, that

he gained the confidence of his superiors in
the church by his zeal, and that he even
stimulated them by his counsels. His
situation at best was contemptible, as being
the tool of men abhorred for their cruelty
and everywhere unpopular for their politi-
cal intrigues. But the man who could
revile the meek and pious Wishart, who
could exult at the misfortunes of him whom
Providence had placed in his power, who
could address the language of foul-mouthed
scorn and reproach, to a man whose only
crime, if crime it be, was difference of
opinion,-—such a man was capable of com-
mitting any act of cruelty, and of over—
colouring any charge exhibited against a
prisoner, in order to further and support
his fabric of deceit.
To call together such an assembly for
the purpose of condemning a man of hum-
ble station and primitive simplicity, who
would have never been heard of beyond
his own narrow and humble circle, was in
the highest degree ridiculous and absurd.
But the primate was not a bad politician,
and on this occasion he thought proper to
exercise some of his political foresight, which
he conceived would tend to the future
benefit and stability of the church. This
was his first outset in his career of blood,
which his predecessor, “ the persecuting
cardinal,” as Fox appropriately terms Bea-
ton, had so carefully trod, and for which
he at last received his reward; and he
determined to show the spectators a speci-
men of his power and influence. Surround-
ed by some of the great men of the king-
dom, supported by his brother, the weak
and irresolute regent, and the earl of Huntly,
the lord chancellor of the kingdom, and by
numerous sons of the church, who, by their
presence, gave their hearty concurrence to
the measure, he sat in prelatical dignity.
smiling with complacency at his own power
and exaltation, and at the blow he vainly
thought he was about to give the Reforma


_ ,—


60
SCOTS WORTHIES.

l
tion by the death of Adam Wallace. The
primate had resolved to strike terror at
once into the hearts of the spectators, and
to declare to the kingdom, that, supported
as he was by the civil power, and with the
regent entirely at his devotion, he was
determined to strengthen the church, and
to crush the Reformation. He forgot
the declaration of sacred writ, that the
counsel of God shall stand, and that he
shall do all his pleasure.
John Winram, sub-prior of St Andrews,
was among the ecclesiastics; and, to a mind
like his, enlightened by truth, and secretly
attached to the reformed doctrines, this
must have appeared a scene of ridiculous
farce and cruelty. He was already con-
vinced that the catholic church was totter--
ing to its base, and he not unlikely thought,
that the primate before him would be the
last whose nomination would be confirmed
by his holiness of Rome. Reasoning from
cause to effect, this seemed to be the real
state of the case; nor did Winram the less
rejoice on that account. This worthy
priest, whose excellence Wishart himself
acknowledged, and whose orthodoxy Knox
had complimented, detested those exhibi-
tions of cruelty, and secretly wished for
the overthrow of all the strongholds of
superstition. Moderate himself in his
measures, he was for proceeding by fair
and honest argument; and he rightly
thought the cause to be indeed pitiable,
which could not stand a calm and candid
investigation. In this case, he must have
beheld with abhorrence the primate’s pro-
ceedings, and he doubtless rejoiced, that,
otherwise than by his presence, he took no
active part in the trial.
The conduct of Winram, however, it
must he confessed, does not at all appear -
to be open and consistent. He was long
deeply sensible of the errors of his church,
and yet we find him remaining in the

Wallace, but also at that of Walter Mill.
which took place eight years afterwards.
When a man is convinced that the church
of which he is a member has made a most
lamentable declension,——that her doctrines
are not only dangerous but damnable,—~
that not only her profession but her prac-
tice is unscripturaL—that she is not only
deluded herself, but tries to delude others,
——and when he sees that she obstinately
sets her face, as it were, against all refor-
mation, and not only maintains but exults
in her errors, it is his duty as a man, a
christian, a professor of the truth, a lover
of his own soul and the souls of others, to
separate from such a corrupt society, and
not to give place by subjection, no, not for
an hour, lest the gospel of Christ become a
reproach to the scorner. It is every man’s
duty to examine for himself the standards
and doctrines of every christian society,
and to unite himself to that which he con-
ceives the most scriptural, and the purest
in doctrine and discipline; but it is not his
duty to remain in a society which can be
proved to have departed from its original
practice, and, above all, from the great
authority of the church, the scriptures of
truth, more especially if he sees men in that
society, who, deaf to every expostulation,
ever and anon vindicate and defend its
errors, and attempt to gloss them over
and reconcile them by sophistical reason-
ings; and when he also well knows, that
all his own attempts at reformation will be
unavailing, and treated with ridicule or
severity. And more especially it his
duty to separate from a corrupt christian
society, when he beholds it not only deter-
mined to support its errors, but actually
employing the civil power, to punish, by
the heaviest penalties, those who take the
sacred and birth-right liberty of thinking
for themselves. But to what length soever
these remarks may apply in our own day,
church, and not only present at the trial of I let us not be too rash in condemning the



ADAM WALLACE.
61





conduct of Winram, and of others in his l derate Winram, were Adam Heriot, a friar
times, who were placed in the like circum-
stances. While we venerate those illus-
trious men, who at the dawn of the Re-
formation enlisted under the banners of“
truth, let us not load with unqualified cen-
sure, or deprive of all praise, those who,
less enlightened, or from nature more timid,
were tardy in fighting the battles of the
Lord. The Saviour himself rejected not
such disciples. Nicodemus, who “ came by
night to J esus,” and Joseph of Arimathea,
who was his disciple “ secretly, for fear of
the Jews,” afterwards declared their faith in
their Master, by embalming and int-erring
his dead body, when all the other disciples
“ had forsaken him and fled.” Numbers
of the Scottish clergy, friendly to the Re-
formation, contrived to retain their situa-
tions, by a concealment of their sentiments.
Among these, besides the learned and mo-






: of the abbey of St Andrews, John Carse-
well, rector of Kilmartin, and John Spottis-
woode,parson of Calder. And the services
which those men and others afterwards
rendered the Reformation, were ample
equivalents for their tardiness in embracing
that cause, which emphatically brought
“liberty to the captive, and the opening
of the prison doors to them that were
bound.”
It appears to us, that there never was a
greater satire upon justice, than the pre-
tence made by the Romish church of trying
heretics. Already condemned by the canon
laws, which expressly declare that heretics
shall be punished with death, how absurd
was it for churchmen to pretend to give
' men a fair trial, whom they had previously
condemned without ceremony? \Ve do
not here allude at all to the Inquisition.

[A Martyr before the Inquisition]




62
SCOTS WORTHIES.





nor to the forms of trial pursued in that
villanous and bloody tribunal, which, did
we lack other proofs, would at once verify
our assertions, by a host of arguments,
from its well-known history; but we refer
simply to those individual trials which took
place in Scotland, and in other countries,
where churchmen coolly condemned their
prisoners, and delivered them over to the
secular power, without any ceremony at
all. And let it be remarked, that almost
all those prisoners were men who had been
long marked out by the prelates,—whom
they had long pursued,—and whose death
they had already determined before their
apprehension; and was it not in the highest
degree ridiculous, and against all equity,
that those very prelates who had long be-
fore resolved on the death of the heretic,
should, prejudiced as they were, sit as
judges over him? Was there mercy to be
expected from such judges? Was there
even the slightest chance that the opinions
of the prisoner would be investigated, or
even that he would get a hearing at all?
We hesitate not to challenge any one to
produce, from the annals of the catholic
church in this or any country, a single case
in which the prisoner was fairly and equi—
tably tried, or in which he was not con-
demned by the prelates in their own minds,
before he was apprehended.
scarcely a single instance in which the
There is
sentence was mitigated, except when the
intercession was most powerful, and even
We say
again, it was a mere mockery, a satire on
justice, to pretend to try men fairly and
honourably, whose death had already been
determined, both by private resentment,
and outrageous and fanatical zeal for the
the cases are exceedingly rare.
church.
These remarks are abundantly verified
in the case of the simple but upright Adam
Wallace. Hamilton had previously deter-
mined the death of the humble martyr; he

resolved to begin with him as an example,
thinking that, as the life of this amiable
man was of no great consequence, his
punishment would prove a salutary cheek
to those who professed the reformed doc-
trines. N o prelate in Scotland ever showed
a greater want of feeling, Beaten excepted,
than did Hamilton on this occasion. He
knew well that Wallace was not able to
answer the sophisms and scurrility of
Lauder, who, when he treated George
Wishart with such fanatical abuse, a gen-
tleman, of an ancient family, and a man of
learning, would to a greater degree vilify
the “ simple man,” whom the rash primate
had caused to be apprehended. But having
met, as they all did, with their resolution
previously formed to condemn him, what
could be more unworthy of a man of the
primate’s birth and station, of his character
as a man, and a christian bishop, than the
line of conduct which he pursued?
It would seem that, on this occasion, the
lords spiritual and temporal, and the right
reverend fathers, had some other business
to manage before they proceeded to the
trial of Wallace. Sir John Ker, a priest,
and prebendary of St Giles’ church in
Edinburgh, was cited before them, to an-
swer charges brought against him. He
was accused, convicted, and condemned,
for issuing a false sentence of divorce,
whereby a separation took place between
a man and his lawful wife, and this too in
the name of the dean of Restalrig, and
certain other judges nominated by the
pope. Ker admitted his crime, but alleged
that he never intended to do anything
against the laws of the realm. Sentence
of banishment was passed against him, and
he was doomed to lose his right hand,if
he was ever afterwards found in Scotland;
he was also deprived of his benefices, and
they were declared vacant.
The case of the prebendary of St Giles’
church had no sooner been disposed of,





ADAM WALLACE.
63






than the worthy fathers proceeded to the
trial of Wallace. The poor man was
brought into the church, and placed before
his ecclesiastical judges. He cast his eyes
around, but it was not the empty gaze or
the vacant stare. He probably felt his
own personal insignificance when compared
with the dignified convention before him,
and he wondered why there should be such
an assemblage of temporal and ecclesiastical
power to condemn him. There was, in
fact, a striking contrast between the perse-
cutors and the persecuted. The former,
proud, haughty, yet not devoid of splendid
talents; the latter, poor, humble, not learn--
ed; “but zealous in godliness and upright-
aess of life.” He looked around, and before
him was the great and noble, behind him
was the large congregation. He could not
"'ail to perceive, that all this display of
mstice by the archbishop was a mere
mockery, and that the primate only wished
to impose on the people by the dignity of
the assembly, and the great power of his
friends.
Wallace was placed opposite to and
confronted with Lauder, who was the person
filling the office of public prosecutor for his
superior of St Andrews. The prisoner’s
appearance was humble and simple in the
extreme. His name was first demanded
by Lauder, to whom he replied,“ Adam
\Vallace.” “ Thou hast another name,”
said the accuser. “ Yea,” he replied, “ I
am commonly called Feane.” “ Where
wast thou born ?” “ Near Fayle,” in the
district of Kyle.” “Then,” said Lauder,
“ I repent that such a poor man as thou
art, should put those noble lords to so great

inconvenience this day by your vain speak- i
“ I must speak,” replied \Vallace,
“ as God giveth me grace, and I believe I |
have said no exdl to hurt any man.” “Would to God,” said the fanatical priest, “ you had never spoken; but you are brought
forth for such horrible crimes of heresy as i
' as
111g.
were never before heard or thought of in
this kingdom ; and these shall be proved in
such a manner as you shall not be able to
deny them. Indeed, I doubt Whether they
should be heard, lest they prove ruinous
to weak minds, but I will not say any
more; thou shalt hear the heinous charges
laid against thee.”
Lauder accordingly proceeded to read
the indictment.--“ Adam Wallace, alias
Feane,” said he, “thou art openly delated
and accused for holding, teaching, and
preaching the abominable blasphemies and
heresies underwritten :—1. Thou hast said
and taught, that the bread and wine on the
altar, after the words of consecration, are
not the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
2. Thou saidst likewise, and didst teach
openly, that the mass is idolatry, and abomi-
nable in the sight of God. 3. Thou hast
openly usurped the office of a priest, having
no calling thereto. 4. Thou didst impiously
baptize one of thy own children. 5. Thou
hast openly and impiously said and taught,
that there is no purgatory. 6. Thou hast
openly maintained, that prayers made to
the saints and for the dead are superstitious.
Thou false heretic, what answerest thou to
these charges against thee C?”
Wallace heard them again read over
one by one, as was the custom. When
the first charge was read, he turned to the
regent and the other nobles, and said, “ My
lords, I never said nor taught anything
but what I found written in this book,”
(and he produced forthwith a Bible in the
English, French, and Dutch languages,)
“which is the word of God; and, if you be
content to judge me by the word of God,
here it is, and what I have said wrong, for
l that I shall be content to suffer punishment
for never said I anything concerning
this accusation, but what I found in this
book.”
This of course was an appeal which
would not be well relished by the reverend


64
SCOTS WORTHIES.




fathers, who never once thought of appeal-
ing to the law and the testimony, knowing
well that but few of their doctrines were to
be found there. “ What didst thou say ?”
cried Lauder in an angry voice. “ I
said,” replied Wallace meekly, “that after
our Lord Jesus Christ had eaten the paschal
lamb in his last supper with his apostles,
and had fulfilled the ceremonies of the old
law, he instituted a new sacrament, in re-
membrance of his death, which was then
at hand. He took bread, and blessed it,
and gave it to his disciples, saying, Take
ye, eat ye, this is my body, which shall be
broken and given for you. And likewise
the cup he blessed, and bade them drink all
thereof, for that was the cup of the New
Testament which should be shed for the
remission of sins ; and as oft, said our
Lord, as ye do this, ye do it in remembrance
of me.”
The archbishop of St Andrews, with the
official of Lothian, the dean of Glasgow,
and the other prelates, in the plenitude of
their wisdom, could make no reasonable
objection to this statement, and they replied,
“ ’We know this well enough.” The earl
of Huntly, however, who probably did not
relish the idea of being detained by a polem-
ical discussion, for which he cared but
little, said to Wallace, “ Thou answeredst
not that which is charged against thee; say
either yea or nay.” To this he again
replied, that he desired the word of God to
be his judge, for he had said and taught
nothing but what that word authorized him
to do; and that word, he wise1 y said, ought
to be judge not only to him. but to all the
world.
The earl of Huntly again interfered.
“ Hast thou not,” he said, “ a judge good
enough in the person of the archbishop,
and thinkest thou that he knows not God
and his word ? Answer those things which
are spoken against thee.” The simple
martyr was not, however, to be so easily

borne down. He declared, that the bishops
could not be his judges, because they were
open enemies to the doctrines he professed;
and, as for the lord governor, be doubted
whether he had the knowledge to discern
lies from truth, and the inventions of men
fi~om the worship of God. The judge that
he desired, he again declared, was the book
of God, and if he could be convicted of
having spoken or done any thing contrary
to that sacred standard, he did not refuse
to die; but, if he was found innocent, as
h. ving spoken nothing contrary to that
book, then he desired the protection of the
governor and the nobility against the tyranny
of malicious men.
If he expected mercy from such judges,
however, he was completely mistaken: and
this appeal fell like water to the ground.
The prelates saw at the same time that
they had a man of a peculiar disposition to
manage, and they resolved to take him in
particular on his ideas of the sacrament.
Lauder was accordingly instructed to
address him. “ Thou sayest,” said the
accuser, “ and hast taught, that the bread
and wine in the sacrament of the altar,
after the words of the consecration, are not
the body and blood of our Saviour Jesus
Christ.”
“ I never said more than the Scriptures
say,” replied "Wallace, “ nor yet more than
I have said before. For Iknow well by
St Paul, when he says, \Vhosoever eateth of
this bread, and drinketh of this cup unwor-
thily, reeeiveth to himself damnation. And,
therefore, when I taught, which was seldom,
and only to them who desired me, I said,
that if the sacrament of the altar were
truly ministered, and used as the Son of
God did intend it, where that was done,
God himself was there, by that divine
power by which he is in every place, and
his presence over all.”
The bishop of Orkney here asked him,
“ Believest thou not, once for all, that the


ADAM WALLACE.
65





bread and wine in the sacrament of the
altar, after the words of the consecration,
become the very body and blood of God,
flesh, blood, and bone '2”
This direct query, asserting the abomi-
nable doctrine of transubstantiation,—a
doctrine than which there never was a
greater insult on human reason in requiring
to believe it,-—was answered comprehen-
sively by the humble Wallace. He knew
not well, he said, what that word consecra-
tion meant. He was not profoimd in Latin,
but he believed that the Son of God was
conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the
Virgin Mary, and had a natural body, with
hands, feet, and other members; that, in
that same body, he acted in the world,
preached and taught, suffered death under
Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and
buried, and by his almighty power he raised
up that body on the third day :—that the
said body ascended into heaven, and now
sitteth at the right hand of God the Father,
which shall come again to judge the quick
and the dead. And that this natural body
cannot be in two places at once, our Savi-
our showed well himself, for the which
everlasting thanks be to his holy name;
for, when the woman poured the ointment
upon him, and his disciples grudged thereat,
he said, “ The poor you have always with
you, but me ye have not always ;” meaning
his natural body. And also at the ascen—
sion of the Saviour, he said to his disciples,
who, from their love to him, would ever
have had him to remain with them in the
body, “ It is needful for you that I pass away,
for if I pass not away, the Comforter, the
Holy Ghost, shall not come to you (mean-
ing that his natural body behoved to be
taken from them); but be ye stout and of
good cheer, for I am with you alway, even
unto the end of the world.” And to con-
clude: that the eating of his very flesh

profiteth nothing, may be known from his
own words, recorded in the sixth chapter
of St John’s Gospel, where, after he had
said, “ Except ye eat my flesh and drink
my blood, ye shall not have life in you ;”
and his disciples murmuring, because of
their fleshly lusts, he adds, “ What will ye
think when ye see the Son of Man ascend
to the place from which he came? It is
the spirit that quickeneth, for the flesh pro-
fiteth nothing.”
The reverend fathers heard this address
with astonishment. The plain and practical
demonstration was, however, 10 st upon them ;
and only tended to confirm them the more
in their opinion to put the prisoner to death.
“ It is an horrible heresy,” cried the bishop
of Orkney. Wallace again attempted to
speak, and desired the lord governor to
judge whether he had spoken agreeably to
the Scriptures ; but he was interrupted.
Lauder exclaimed, “ Ad secundam,” (to
the second article), and Nunc ad seczmclam
was echoed by the archbishop, whose
patience was by this time well nigh ex-
hausted.
Wallace was required now to pay atten-
tion to the second article, which was con-
cerning the mass. To this he replied, that
he had read the Bible in three languages,
and, as far as he understood these languages,
he never read the word mass in them all.
The thing, he said, which was in the greatest
estimation with men, was often abomina-
tion in the sight of God; and as the mass
is held in high estimation, and is not found-
ed on the Scriptures, so he said it is idolatry,
and abominable in the sight of God. He
offered to prove his assertions, and if he
failed, he would confess his errors, and
1 submit himself to lawful punishment, other-
wise to punish him would be unjust. This
challenge, however, was not accepted by
the prelates. “Ad tertiam,” exclaimed
the archbishop, while the prelates all
cried, “Heresy, heresy, let him be con-
demned.”
He was next charged with assuming the


I
66
SCOTS WORTHIES.



office of a preacher, without being lawfully
called to the same ; and to this he answer-
ed, That he never judged himself worthy
of so excellent a vocation as is the calling
of a preacher, nor did he ever presume to
preach; only he admitted, that in some
private places he did read portions of the
Scriptures at times, and that he made
short comments thereon to those who would
hear him. He was quickly told by Lauder,
that he ought not to have meddled with
the Scriptures; but he answered, that he
esteemed it the duty of every man to seek
the knowledge of God’s word, and the as-
surance of his own salvation, which was not
to be found but in the Scriptures. A by-
stander asked, What would be left for the
bishops and priests to do, if every man
should be a babbler in the Bible '9 To this
person Wallace replied, “ It becomes you
to speak more reverently of God, and of
his holy word; and if the judge did right,
he would punish you for your blasphemy.
But as to your question, I say, that although
you and five thousand would read the Bible,
and confess together upon it, yet we leave
more to the bishops than either they can
or will perform; for we leave to them the
preaching of the gospel of Christ, and the
feeding of his flock, whom he hath redeem-
ed by his own blood, which is a burden
heavy enough; neither do we them any
wrong in working out our own salvation,
as far as we are able.”
As to the next charge, viz., that of bap-
tizing his own child, he answered, that it
was as lawful for him to do so, when he
could not get a minister to do it, as it was
for Abraham to circumcise Ishmael and
the rest of his family.
Lauder now finally addressed Wallace.
“ Thou hast preached,” he said, “ and openly
taught divers and sundry other great errors
and abominable heresies against all the
seven sacraments, which for shortness of
time I omit and pass over. Whether dost

thou grant the aforesaid articles or no, as
thou shalt hear them again?” He then
read over the various articles exhibited
against him, and asked him whether he
granted or denied them.
The answer of Wallace was simple,
pious, and unaffected. “ I have before
given my answers,” said he, “ and I have
said nothing contrary to the holy word of
God; and if I have done so, may God
judge me, and my own conscience be my
accuser. If I am wrong, I would wish to
remain till the time in which I shall be
better instructed by the holy word. But
if you condemn me, my lords, for holding
fast the revelation of God, my innocent
blood will be required at your hands, and
you shall be brought before the judgment-
seat of Christ, who is mighty to defend my
innocent cause, before whom you shall not
deny it, nor yet be able to resist his terrible
wrath ; to whom I refer the vengeance, as
it is written, ‘ Vengeance is mine, and I
will repay it, saith the Lord.’ ”
But his death was resolved on, and his
appeal was in vain. Cast in stern mould-
ing, the hearts of his judges felt no pity,
but thought they did God service by the
death of this amiable man. He was con-
demn ed by Lauder, as an obstinate heretic,
and delivered over to the secular power,
with the approbation of all the prelates,
and the regent of the kingdom. Sir John
Campbell of Lundy, justice-deputy, con-
demned him to die at the stake, and he
was consigned to the custody of the provost
of Edinburgh, to be burnt on the Castle-hill
the following day. The assembly now
broke up, and Wallace was conducted to
prison for the night, and bound fast with
irons round about his legs and neck.
Thus ended the trial of Adam \Vallace,
in the church of the Black Friars at
Edinburgh, the first victim to Hamilton’s
cruelty and outrageous zeal for the church.
The dignitaries who assembled on this


ADAM WALLACE.



occasion were men of the greatest influence
in the kingdom, whom Hamilton had con-
vened by the authority of his brother the
regent, that he might make a vain display,
and strike terror into the minds of the Re-
formers. With the exception of Winram,
and the prior of St Andrews, they all heard
the sentence with the utmost callousness;
nor did even a sigh of pity escape them at
the wretched fate of the unfortunate man.
Dead to every feeling of sympathy, they
viewed their proceedings with the utmost
complacency, and they left the church of
the Black Friars in mutual congratula-
tions.
It was not so, however, with the be-
holders. Struck with horror at the cruelty
cf the sentence, and exasperated at this
exhibition of tyranny, they rightly thought
that they were again to experience the iron
domination of cardinal Beaton, and they
feared the result. They concealed their
resentment; but they were the more con-
vinced of the injustice of their rulers. Per-
secution, in every case, ought to be avoided
for religious differences; but when that
persecution extends to the deprivation of
life, by a cruel and lingering death, or
indeed by any kind of punishment, much
more ought it to be execrated, by every
lover of truth, of freedom, and of his
country. Great is truth, and it shall pre-
vail; but they who attempt to establish
their power by intolerance, and their
opinions by the sword of the civil magis-
trate, will be eventually disappointed in
their expectations, and find themselves
miserably mistaken.
Shackled with irons, as some vile male-
factor, and consigned to a dungeon in the
prison of Edinburgh, lay Adam Wallace,
the night after his trial,-—another victim
to popish tyranny and rage. Tempted,
but not forsaken,-—cast down, but not
destroyed,—-—like the persecuted servants of l

ed to heaven while overwhelmed with his
sufferings, and found there those consola-
tions which the world can neither give nor
take away. He had sounded in the ears
of his persecutors the denunciation of hea-
ven, and well did he know it would be
fulfilled: “ Vengeance is mine, and I will
repay it, saith the Lord.”
A priest of the name of Hugh Terry
had the charge of Wallace for the night;
and he, in like manner, adding insult to
cruelty, sent two gray fi‘iars to instruct
him: Wallace refused their instructions,
and they quickly departed. Some time
after the departure of the gray friars, two
black friars, an English friar, and a priest
of the name of Abercromby, were sent to
him, but the martyr refused them all, the
English friar excepted. With him he would
gladly have conversed, and declared his
faith in the sacred Scriptures: but the
friar answered, that he had no commission
to enter into disputation with him, and he
and his companions took their leave.
The priests, however, were determined
if possible to reclaim him, and they seem
to have been indefatigable in their exer-
tions. The dean of Restalrig visited him
shortly after the friars had departed, aman
of great learning, and even well instructed
in the Scriptures. He gave the martyr
christian consolation, but exhorted him to
believe in the reality of the body of Christ
in the sacrament after the consecration.
Wallace would not be persuaded. He
would assent to nothing but what the
Scriptures taught, nor would he believe
what he well knew was abominable to
God. The dean, seeing his exhortations
were of no avail, soon left him, grieving also
that he found him so obstinately persisting
in his opinions.
Wallace spent the awful night preceding
his execution in exercises of fervent piety
and devotion. He had committed almost
the Most High in the days of old, he look_ all the Psahns to memory, and he was




68
SCOTS “HDRTHIES





continually engaged in praise and prayer.
He had been in the practice of carrying
his Bible with him wherever he went; but
his persecutors, after his condemnation,
took it fi~om him, and destroyed it. Terry,
his fanatical jailor, behaved to him with
the most barbarous violence. Thinking
that he still concealed some books about
him which contained heretical doctrine, he
entered his cell, and searched his person.
He found some short addresses written by
professors of the reformed doctrines. These
Terry took from him, bestowing on him
the most unbecoming and abusive epithets,
and even tempting him by his provocations.
Such was the inhuman conduct of this
priest, who obtruded himself on the privacy
of his prisoner, and imbittered the last
hours of his life by indecent upbraidings.
Such conduct deserves execration; it is
worse than savage ; it is like the act of a
madman. Wallace was denied the last
consolation, and even in a degree hindered
from making his peace with heaven, of
which Terry thought, by the act of his
sending priests to instruct him, he stood so
much in need.
Next morning, preparations were made
for the execution of the sentence, which
was to take place on the Castle-hill in the
afternoon. The whole affair, as we have
already said, was given in charge to the
provost of Edinburgh, who seems, in the
issue, to have been fully as persecuting in
spirit as his superiors. During the day,
however, Wallace’s judges left the city,—
the regent, with his brother the archbishop,
to their respective residences; and the
bishops and dignitaries of the church to
their several places. Their prisoner was
now in the hands of the civil power; and,
having the authority of the regent for the
sentence, the provost of Edinburgh was
accountable for him. Their presence in-
deed was of little avail. The prelates
departed in triumph. They had left behind

them a monument of their power, which,
they vainly believed, would be salutary to
the people, and increase the stability of the
church.
The dean of Restalrig visited Wallace
once more, on the morning of this day, in
the hope that he would find him more
pliable. But in this he was disappointed.
It was in vain that the dean discoursed to
him about false doctrine and the danger of
his salvation; it was in vain that he even
held out to him hopes that his sentence
would be mitigated if he would recant.
Wallace answered him again, that he would
say nothing concerning his belief but what
the Scriptures testified; nor would he be
persuaded of the contrary, even though an
angel fi~om heaven should attempt to per-
suade him. Nevertheless he felt grateful to
the dean, and thanked him for the christian
advices he had given him to preserve his
fortitude, and he only prayed that his eyes
might be opened to behold the light of the
truth.
TESTIMONY
OF
ADAM WALLACE
After the dean’s departure, Terry again
renewed his violence and insulting lan-
guage; but he was answered at once by
Wallace with meekness and resolution.
“ You should rather be a godly man,” said
he, “ seeing you are a priest, and give me
consolation in my case. When I knew
you were approaching, I prayed God I
might resist your temptations, which, I
thank and praise him, he hath enabled me
to do; therefore I pray you let me alone,
that I may recollect myself and die in
peace.” This reply had the desired effect.
Terry, ashamed and confounded, left him
and the martyr sat down, preparing himself


ADAM WALLACE.
69


to endure the fiery trial which was await-
ing him.
The day was now advancing, and he was
freed fi‘om his irons, and led from his cell
into another room. He asked an ofiicer
who stood beside him, if the fire was
making ready, who told him it was. The
martyr replied in the language of resigna-
tion, “ As it pleases God,” said he, “ I am
ready, sooner or later, as it shall please
him.” A number of persons had been
by this time admitted into the room, and
Wallace, looking around, perceived one of
his friends, who, he knew, was attached to
the Reformers. He accordingly addressed
him ; desired that person to commend him
to all the faithful professors of God’s word,
as he now took leave of them with the
certain hope that, if they were faithful
unto death, they would meet together in
heaven. He said no more, and none spoke
to him after that time till he was brought
to the stake.
The conduct of Wallace is evidently that
of manly courage and resignation—but it
is more; it also breathes a spirit of piety
and humble trust in God. He seems to
have been a man of primitive simplicity;
no murmur escaped his lips; his trust was
in heaven alone. No friends indeed there
were around him to grieve for his hapless
fate; even his wife was not admitted to
take her last farewell; but he knew that
his best and only friend was in heaven—-
and that the Friend was there who sticketh
closer than a brother.
The time at length came when the
martyr was to be led to the stake, and the
officers announced to him that he must

The provost of Edinburgh, )
now be ready.
with many threats, prohibited him from
addressing the people. He was then bound,
and led from the town to the Castle-hill,
the scene of his intended martyrdom. As
the melancholy procession passed along the
street, the spectators frequently called out
to Wallace, “ God have mercy on you.”
He heard them express their sympathy
with gratitude, and exclaimed in reply,
“And on you also my fiiends.” He now
approached the stake; and while the execu-
tioners were preparing it, after lifting up
his eyes frequently to heaven in the attitude
of devotion, he exclaimed to the people,
“ Let it not offend you that I suffer death
this day for the truth’s sake; for the disciple
is not greater than his Master.” The pro—
vost, who presided at the execution, seeing
his prohibition neglected, interrupted him
in an angry manner; and, with the utmost
indecency, commanded him to be silent.
To him Wallace spoke not in reply; but
the insolence of the magistrate wounded’
him to the soul. Again he turned his eyes
to heaven, as if praying for patience; and
then he feebly exclaimed, with tears in his
eyes, “ They will not let me speak.” These
were his last words. He was quickly tied
to the stake,—the fire was lighted; and,
enveloped in its flame, the martyr was
consumed to ashes, on the 12th of October,
1551.
Thus died Adam Wallace, on the Castle—
hill of Edinburgh, a venerated martyr for
the doctrines of the Reformation; a man of
simple manners, and humble station, but
of primitive integrity and fervent piety and
zeal; of no great learning, but sound in
his views of religion.



i0
SCOTS WORTHIES.








"WALTER
MILL
WALTER MILL was born about the year
147 6, of parents who were in reputable
circumstances. He received his education
at the university of Aberdeen, recently
founded by bishop Elphingstone. The
nation at that time remained secure in its
devotion to the church of Rome, being
agitated by no heresies, and the prelates,
like the Israelites of old, “ doing every one
of them that which was right in his own
eyes.” The opinions of Luther had not
found their way into Scotland, and accord-
ingly Mill was educated most rigidly in
the popish religion. At the age appointed
by the canon law, he received orders; but
he was not connected with any particular
monastery.
He was shortly afterwards appointed
officiating priest of Lunan, in the shire of
Angus, or, as it is now called, Forfar. In
what manner he first discharged his clerical
functions does not appear; but very proba-
bly he was like the rest of his brethren,
who were not “ righteous overmuch.” Be
this as it may, it is certain that, about the
time of the martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton,
he was led to an examination of the opinions
for which that noble youth suffered, and in
common with many others, this examina-
tion ended in conviction of the truth.
Mill had no opportunities of conversing
with any of the principal reformers; but
be carefully studied the Scriptures, and
these soon opened his eyes to a conviction
‘of his errors.

With all that candour and
openness which mark an upright mind, he
saw it was his duty to preach the doctrines
he now believed, or subject himself to the
charge of not being a faithful minister of
the New Testament. He accordingly left
off celebrating mass, believing it to be
gross idolatry, and devoted himself wholly
‘to preaching, and the instruction of his
hearers.
This conduct was too flagrant to escape
notice in those days, and accordingly Mill
was delated to the archbishop of St An~
drews, as preaching heretical doctrines
This was in the year 1538. James Beaten,
the cardinal’s uncle, at that time filled the
primacy; and having the cardinal for his
adviser, who, in fact, actually governed the
see, a citation was sent to Mill, requiring
his appearance at St Andrews, to answer
certain charges laid against him. The
fate of Patrick Hamilton, however, and
others, was before his eyes; and he thought
it most advisable to escape the flames, and
consult his safety by flight.
Mill retreated to the Continent, and at
last took refuge for a while in Germany,
where,by associating with Zuinglius, Oeco-
lampadius, and others, he was more fully
instructed in the doctrines of the Reforma-
tion. While in Germany he occasionally
preached, and at length completely sepa-
rated himself from the Romish priesthood
by entering into the marriage state. But


WALTER MILL.
71


he did not conceive himself separated from
the ministry of the New Testament. He
felt his mind glowing with inconceivable
ardour, to make known to his countrymen
the blessings of that gospel which he had
felt so efiicacious to his own soul.
This feeling is natural to the man who
has known that God is gracious. He
cannot remain in cowardly ease, while he
sees others perishing for lack of knowledge;
and knowing well the infinite value of
even one immortal soul,—knowing well
that there is joy in heaven ever even one
sinner that repenteth,——above all, knowing
that they who win souls are wise, and they
who are the instruments of turning many
to righteousness shall shine as the stars for
ever and ever,—-he feels the influence of
redeeming love on his soul, and he burns
with holy ardour in the sacred cause.
This is not fanaticism, or religious insanity,
as it is called by the world. Is not such
a man a believer in the sacred Scriptures?
Most assuredly; and he therefore knows
that the strongholds of sin must be pulled
down,—that there must be war waged with
spiritual wickednesses in high places,—that
the man of sin must be broken in pieces.
How, then, are these things to be accom-
plished? By miracles? No, verily: their
age hath for ever passed away. By wondrous
interpositions from heaven? No, verily: no
more of these shall be seen till the latter
days. But by human means doth God now
execute whatsoever comes to pass,—means
which he hath predestinated as component
parts of the event itself.
with this feeling, therefore, did Mill
return to his native land, about the year
1556. He kept himself at first in retire-
ment ; but still he felt it his duty to instruct
many secretly in the knowledge of God,
and to lift up his voice against the ‘ices of
the age.
notice, and as he made himself much more
conspicuous by bolder steps, and by pro-
But this could not long escape

claiming truths which were not at all
relished by the clergy, they began to turn
their attention towards him. He was in-
formed, however, of the intentions of the
clergy, and he thought it most advisable to
change his residence. We are not informed
whether his wife came along with him from
Germany, or whether she died before he
left that country; the latter is most pro-
bably the case.
This state of things continued for some
time, until the year 1559, when archbishop
Hamilton was exasperated at his failure
with the protestant nobles to make them dis-
miss their preachers. Knowing the circum»
stances of the queen-regent, that she found
it her interest, though a devoted catholic,
to flatter the Reformers, and knowing that.
he himself was utterly unable to proceed
by force against nobles of the greatest
influence, the primate felt himself trans-
ported beyond all the bounds of modera-
tion. The indecent violence he displayed
was that of a man lost to all sense of
virtue; and yet he knew not what to do.
His enemies the preachers were retained
in the castles of the nobility, and to attack
them was to attack the owners themselves.
He saw it was needless to persecute the
people, for, first, that was out of his power ;
secondly, they had begun to be as cunning
as himself; and, lastly, he held them in too
great contempt. The primate was actually
at a loss what to do, or how to gratify his
malignity.
Hamilton was no stranger to Mill’s con-
duct; yet, had he get other opportunities
of gratifying his rage, in all probability the
cxtieme old age of the martyr, now in his
eighty-second year, and his apparent feeble-
ness, would have shielded him from the
primate’s hostility. But this was not to be
the case. Some one informed him that
this aged priest was at that time in Dysart.
and of him our primate at once determined
to make an example. The old process set


H72
SCOTS WORTHIES.





on foot by cardinal Beaton was revived
against Mill, and, after a vigilant search
for him, he was at last apprehended, at the
instance of the archbishop, by Sir George
Strachan and Sir Hugh Torry, in the town
of Dysart in Fife. He was immediately
carried to the city of St Andrews, and
committed a close prisoner there.
As the primate conceived that his public
recantation might be of as much benefit to
the church as his death, he was indefatiga-
ble at first in endeavouring to persuade
him. The priests therefore beset him, and
at first threatened him with the most
horrible tortures if he would not recant.;
but finding these unavailing, and that the
constancy of the martyr was not to be
shaken by such means, they at length tried j
flattery, promising him a residence in the abbey of Dunfermline for life. if he would
















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[Ruins of St. Andrews Castla]
sign his recantation. This measure had
little better success, and accordingly it
was determined to proceed against him
according to the laws of the church.
The martyr knew well his fate; but he
preserved a marvellous constancy. He
knew in whom he had believed, and his
faith supported him under every trial. Let
us proceed, then, to delineate the last mo-
ments of a man, “ out of whose ashes,” says


Fox, in his simple manner, “ sprang thou-
sands of his religion and opinions in Scot‘
land, who altogether chcse rather to die
than to be any longer over-trodden by the
tyrannie of the foresayed cruell and igno-
rant bischops, abbots, monks, and friars,
and so began the congregation of Scotland
to debate the true religion of Christ against
the Frenchmen and the papists, who sought
alwaies to depresse and keepe downe the
same ; for it began soone after the martyr-
dome of Walter Mille, of which the form
hereafter followeth.”
With secret complacency did archbishop
Hamilton contemplate the effect of the
execution of Mill. He imagined he saw
the protestant preachers mute with conster—
nation, the friends of the Reformation
trembling for their safety, and the church
and his own power acquiring fresh stability.
But he was soon convinced of the falsity
of his speculations; and he had the mortifi-
cation to know, that, had he been more
moderate, he might, humanly speaking,
have longer retained his power, and not
rendered himself so obnoxious to the people
as to hasten his own destruction.
Mill having resolutely refused to recani,
‘ an assembly of the clergy was accordingly
I‘ summoned to proceed against him.
' taries.
This
assembly was composed of various digni-
The archbishop presided in person,
. and beside him were seated the bishops of

Moray, Hrechin, Caithness, &c.; the abbots
of Dunfermline, Lindores, Cupar ; various
doctors of theology in the university; John
Grierson, black friar; John \Vinram, sub-
prior of the abbey; \Villiam Cranston,
sub-prior of the old college, and others con-
nected with the city. Mill was ordered tc
be taken from prison, and brought before
them.
The prelates assembled in the metro-
politan church, and there was the martyr
brought to his trial, on the 20th day of
April, 1559. His appearance being that




WALTER MILL.
73



of a poor and feeble old man, he excited in
the minds of the spectators universal com-
miseration; and so helpless did he appear,
that it was doubted by many whether he
would be able to make his defence. He
was commanded to get into a pulpit pre-
pared for the occasion, but he was so
infirm as to require assistance. He looked
around him, nothing dismayed at the assem-
bly, and then sunk on his knees, offering
up his fervent prayers to the God of all
consolation.
A priest, named Sir Andrew Oliphant,
soon commanded him with little ceremony to
rise and answer to the charges laid against
him. The martyr obeyed; but he spoke in
a voice which astonished the beholders,
and dismayed his accusers. “ Sir Walter
Mill,” cried Oliphant, “ arise, give answers
to the articles ; for you keep my lord the
archbishop here too long.” Mill beheld
him with a smile of pity. “ We ought to
obey God,” replied he, “rather than man.
I serve one more powerful, even the Al-
mighty God; and whereas you are wont
to call me Sir Walter, call me not so now.
I have been too long one of the pope’s
knights—Now, say what thou pleasest.”
The examination, which is exceedingly
curious, we shall quote from Fox, who says
he received it em testimonials et Ziteris e
Scotz'a petitis. It affords a specimen of
Mill’s natural brevity and acuteness of
remark; while, at the same time, it shows
the injustice of the priests in bringing
men to trial with whom they never fairly
argued.
It was conducted by Oliphant, who be-
gan his interrogations with the following
question:
“ lVhat thinkest thou of priests’ mar-
riage ?”
“ I hold it a blessed band,” replied Hill,
“for Christ himselfe maintained it, and
approved the same, and also made it free

i
J
I
you ; ye abhore it, and in the mean tyme,
take other men’s wives and daughters, and
will not keepe the band that God hath
made. Yee vow chastitie, and break the
same. Sainte Paul had rather marrie than
burne; the which I have done, for God
never forbade marriage, to any man, of
what state or degree soever he be.”
“ Thou sayest,” continued Cliphant,
“ there bee not seven sacraments ?”
“ Give me the Lord’s Supper and Bap-
tisme, and take you the reste, and part
them among you, for if there bee seven,
why have you omitted one of them, to wit,
marriage, and give yourselves to slanderous
and ungodly whoredom '4”
“ Thou art against the blessed sacra-
ment of the altar, and saiest, that the masse
is wronge, and is idolatrie ?”
“ A lord or a king,” replied Mill, “ sendeth
and calleth manie to a dinner, and when
the dinner is in readines, hee causeth to
ring the bell, and the men come to the
hall, and site down, to be partakers of the
dinner, but the lord, turninge his backe
upon them, eateth all himselfe, and so do
yee.”
“ Thou deniest the sacrament of the
altar to be the very bodie and blood of
Christ ?”
“ The Scripture of God is not to be
taken carnallie but spirituallie, and standeth
in fayth onlie; and as for the masse it is
wrong, for Christ was once offered on the
crosse for man’s trespasse, and will never
be offered againe, for then he ended all
sacrifice.”
“ Thou deniest the office of a bishop '5”
“ I affi rme that they whom yee call bishops
do no bishop’s workes, nor use the office
of a bishop, as Paul biddeth, writing to
Timothy, but live after their own sensuall
pleasure, and take no care of the floeke,
nor yet regard they the word of God, but
desire to be honoured, and called my
to all men; but you thinke it not free to l lords.”
K
74
SCOTS WORTHIES.



“ Thou speakest against pilgrimage, and
callest it a pilgrimage to whoredome ?”
“ I affirm and say, that it is not com-
manded in the Scriptures, and that there
is no greater whoredome in any place than
at your pilgrimages, except it bee in com-
mon brothels.”
“ Thou preachest secretlie and privatelie
in houses, and openlie in the fields?”
“ Yea, man, and on the sea. also, sayling
in a ship.”
“ Wilt thou not recant thy erroneous
opinions? And if thou wilt not, I will
pronounce sentence against thee.”
“ I am accused for my life, and therefore,
as Christ said to Judas, Quod facts, fac
citius. Yee shall know that I will not
recant the truth; for I am corn, I am no
chaffe: I will not be blowne away with the
winde, nor burst with the flaile. But I will
abide both.”
Thus ended the examination, and it may
be easily conceived how these answers
would aggravate the martyr’s offence in
the eyes of his persecutors. It is to be
remarked, that they do not attempt to
argue with him, or endeavour to set him
right as to his “erroneous opinions ;” on
the contrary, they go fi~om one article to
another, without making the smallest re-
mark on any one point. This, however, is
the nature of Roman catholicism, which
cannot bear an investigation by the standard
of truth
Fox informs us, that his persecutors
rehearsed those things on purpose, “together
with other light trifles, to augment their
small accusations.” The patience of the
reverend prelates was now exhausted, and
Oliphant was commanded to pronounce
sentence against the aged martyr, deliver-
ing him over to the secular power to suffer
death as an obstinate heretic.
The boldness and fervent piety of Mill,
however, together with his venerable ap-
ings of the beholders. The whole city of
St Andrews was unanimous in his favour,
and to so great a degree did this feeling
prevail, that the archbishop could not get
a civil judge to condemn him. The steward
of his regality, and provost of the city,
called Patrick Learmont, much to his
honour, refused to lend his countenance to
the procedure, and, to avoid the odium oi
the transaction, precipitately left the city,
Even the archbishop’s chamberlain would
not consent to condemn him, “and the whole
towne was so offended with his unjust con-
demnation, that the bishop’s servants could
not get for their money so much as one
cord to tie him to the stake, or a tarre
barrell to burne him, but were constrained
to cut the cords of their master’s owne
pavilion to serve their turn.”
The prelates were now put to a stand,
and they knew not what to do. The
archbishop, however, was resolved on his
death, and at length he most illegally pre-
vailed by bribery on a domestic of his own.
named Alexander Sommerville, to act as a
temporal judge. The stake was prepared
on the very day of his condemnation; and
by this worthless domestic of Hamilton,
the venerable martyr was led forth to re-
ceive the crown of glory.
TESTIMONY
OF
WALTER MILL.
He was guarded by a band of armed
men, accompanied by Oliphant and other
priests. Oliphant desired the martyr to

proceed to the stake, for he had halted
If when he came within sight of it; but he
i replied, “ No; yet if thou wilt put me u}.

l
i
i .
i Fox, vol. ii. fol. edit. 1631, p. 626; Spottis
pearance, excited all the sympathetic feel~ ; Woods: P- 96




.» _.__ .___.~7-\__,_-1. '. .4. .>\_






WALTER MILL. 75


with thy hand, and take part in my death, only upon Jesus Christ and his mercy
thou shalt see me go to the stake gladly;
but, by the law of God, I am forbidden to
lay violent hands on myself.” The fanatical 1
priest then pushed the martyr rudely for- .
l of the multitude.
ward with his hands, and he willingly went
with the most heroic fortitude, saying,
I ntroz'bo ad altare Dez'. Mill then desired
to address the people, but Oliphant peremp-
torily forbade him, saying, That the
bishops were already offended at his much
speaking.
This rudeness, however, offended some
of the spectators, who felt the utmost
sympathy for the helpless fate of the vene-
rable and unhappy sufferer. They pitied
his condition, and were enraged at Oli-
phant’s cruelty. Abhorring the injustice of
the bishops, they exclaimed with a loud
voice, that they believed the priests would
yet lament that day, and desired him to say
what he pleased.
The firmness of this expostulation, and
the threat which it conveyed, awed the
persecutors. Encouraged by this liberty,
the aged priest sank on his knees in prayer
to heaven, and then rising, he stood on the
coals, and addressed the spectators. “Dear
friends,” said he, “the cause why I suffer
this day is not for any crime, although I
am a miserable sinner before God, but only
for the defence of the faith of Jesus Christ
set forth unto us in the Old and New
Testaments ; for which, as the faithful
.nartyrs have offered themselves gladly
before, being assured after their death, of
the eternal felicity of their bodies, so this
day I praise God, that he hath called me
of his mercy among the rest of his servants
to seal his truth with my life ; which, as I
have received it of him, I willingly offer it
to his glory. Therefore, as you would
escape the eternal death, be no longer
seduced by the lies of priests, monks, friars,
priors, abbots, and popish bishops, and the
rest of the sect of antichrist, but depend

that ye may be delivered from condemna-
tion.”
This speech made a deep impression, de~
livered as it was amid the tears and groans
Then turning to his
persecutors, he thus addressed them: “I
marvel at your rage, ye hypocrites, in thus
persisting to persecute the servants of the
living God; but hundreds shall rise out of
my ashes, who shall chase you from your
temples of iniquity, and establish the true
faith of Jesus Christ. I trust in God, I
shall be the last who shall die for the truth
in Scotland in this manner.”
He was now drawn up to the stake, and
the fire was quickly lighted. While the
flames were raging about his body, he was
heard expressing himself with the most
heroic fortitude, and continually commend-
ing his soul to God. His last words were,
“ Lord have mercy on me: Pray, pray,
good people, while there is time.” And
thus, like another Elijah, he winged his
fiery flight to heaven, to the bosom of his
Father and his God, on the 20th of April,
1559.
So much did his fortitude and constancy
affect the people, that they heaped up a
great pile of stones on the place where he
was burned, that the memory of his death
might be preserved; but the priests gave
orders to have it taken down and carried
away, denouncing a curse on any who
should lay stones there again. This ana-
thema, however, was so little regarded,
that what was thrown down in the day-
time was raised again during the night,
till at last the papists carried away the
stones to build houses about the town,
which they did with all possible secrecy.
The death of this martyr brought about
the downfall of popery in Scotland; for
the people, in general, were so much in‘
flamed, that, resolving openly to profess
the truth, they bound themselves with pro-


76
SCOTS WORTHIES.




. . . l .
mises and subscrlptlons of oaths, that before papal tyranny; wlnch at last they were
they would be thus abused any longer, compelled to do before the Reformation
they would take up arms and resist the was completely established.

JAMES’ STUART, EARL OF MORAY.

THIS nobleman was the illegitimate son of
James V., king of Scotland, by a lady of a
noble and ancient family, Margaret Erskine,
daughter of John, fifth earl of Mar, and
fourth lord Erskine of that surname.
James V. had six natural children. His
sons he intended for the church, and accord-
ingly he enriched his coffers by conferring
on them wealthy benefices as they became
vacant, and by this means becoming entitled
to their revenues while the possessors of
them were under age. The priory of St
Andrews, at this time vacant, was assigned
to this son, then only three years of age.
This presentation entitled James to receive
the revenues. It was almost as wealthy
as the primacy, and it was the next in
dignity. The priors of St Andrews were
entitled to wear splendid robes and ecclesias-
tical ornaments on solemn occasions, and
to precede all other dignitaries of equal
rank.
The history of the prior’s juvenile years,
and the manner of his education, are un-
known; even the exact time and place of
his birth are not recorded. It has been
lately discovered, on the authority of bishop .
Leslie, that he was born in 1532, or,
according to our computation, 1533. It
may be remarked, however, that he at an

early age manifested those talents for
which the house of Stuart was distinguish-
ed. As soon as he became of age, he felt
that the idleness and monotony of the eccle-
siastical life did not suit his inclinations,
and he looked with dislike on a profession
which doomed him to inglorious ease.
In April, 1548, Scotland was invaded
by lord Grey de Wilton, on which occasion
Haddington was taken and fortified, and
the adjacent country laid waste. At the
same time, lord Clinton, the English admi-
ral, sailed into the estuary of the Forth
with a fleet, and made a descent on the
coast of Fife. On this occasion happened
the first adventure of the prior, who was
now sixteen years of age. He was then
residing in Fife, probably near St Andrews,
and as he felt a repugnance towards the
ecclesiastical profession, he resolved to em-
brace the opportunity of displaying his
valour. The English, under Clinton, had
advanced a considerable way into the
country, having met with no opposition;
but a few devoted individuals, under the
young prior, laid an ambuscade for them
on their return, into which they fell; and,
after a considerable slaughter, they regain-
ed their boats with great difficulty. This
. was the prior’s first exploit, in which he



JAMES STUART,
77
EARL OF MORAY.


displayed no small personal courage and
knowledge of military tactics.
The young queen about this time went
to the French dominions, accompanied by
a numerous retinue ; her brother the prior,
who was then in his seventeenth year,
also joined her suite. He is said to have
remained in France for some time. But
even at this early age, his abilities were
peculiarly manifested, and his enemies have
paid him an unwitting compliment. It has
been asserted that about this time he
entered into an engagement of a secret
nature with the English government to
promote a conspiracy, yet the charge has
never been proved by any satisfactory
evidence, and there are no authentic docu-
ments on the subject. It is uncertain how
long he remained in France. He went
thither with Mary in 1548; we find him in
Scotland in 1549; and again at Paris in
1552. The probability is, that he made
several journeys to that country; at all
events, the circumstance of his having been
in England at that period, and the hospi-
tality with which he was received by the
English sovereign, are the sole sources of
this feeble calumny. A youth of seventeen
years of age, entering into a conspiracy as
the agent of a foreign government, while
at the same time he was without influence
at home, unknown, and disregarded, is
too ridiculous to be supposed for a mo-
ment.
As the prior grew up, his antipathy to-
wards the ecclesiastical profession increased,
and he seems to have regarded his priory
merely as a temporal inheritance, the prin-
cipal concerns of it being managed by the
sub-prior, the celebrated John VVinram.
He paid no attention to the synods of the
clergy, in which he held no inconsiderable
place; and he is said still farther to have
manifested his dislike to the life of a priest,
by his entertaining thoughts of a matrimo- *
The heiress of Buchan was ,
nial alliance.
the lady chosen, and there is a curious
document extant—a mutual contract en-
tered into by the relations of both parties,
that the prior, or one of his brothers, should
fulfil the intended marriage when the lady
was twelve years or age.
In the intrigues which took place be-
tween the party of the queen-mother and
that of the regent, to deprive him of his
office, the prior seems to have taken no
concern. It is not unlikely that he was in
France during this period, for it would appear
that he became reconciled to the French,
whom he ‘at first thought proper to dislike:
and his near relationship to the royal
family, gave him considerable patronage in
all their concerns. In addition to the
wealthy priory of St Andrews, he acquired
the priory of Pittenweem, and several other
benefices, both at home and abroad. He
accepted of the rich priory of Mascon in
France, in commendam, with a dispensa-
tion to hold three benefices, notwithstand-
ing his illegitimacy: and for these favours
he took an oath of fealty to pope Paul III.
in 1544.
It appears from the act of council 1555,
that a fort was commanded to be built at
Kelso, with the view, perhaps, of forming
a line of strength along the boundaries of
the Scottish kingdom. For this purpose,
a tax of £20,000 Scots (about £1600
Sterling), was imposed, one half of which
was to be levied from the church. The
prior superintended the fort; and in July,
1557, with a force collected chiefly from
Mid Lothian, and with a few pieces of
artillery, he made a sudden irruption into
England, accompanied by his brother lord
Robert Stuart, abbot of Holyrood-house,
afterwards earl of Orkney, and lord Home.
But they as suddenly returned, without
performing any considerable achievement.
or occasioning any material damage.
The prior, to be relieved fi‘om all the
peculiar restraints attached to the clerical



78
SCOTS WORTHIES.








profession, as soon as the marriage of Mary
with the dauphin was celebrated, solicited
Mary for the earldom of Moray. The last
earl, a natural son of James IV., by a
daughter of lord Kennedy, had died at the
castle of Tarnaway, on the 12th of June,
1544, and, from the nature of the Scottish
law, the earldom had reverted to the crown.
Its administration was conferred on the
earl of Huntly, who had succeeded cardinal
Beaten, in the office of lord high chancellor.
Huntly was one of the most powerful of
the northern chiefs, and the earldom was
consigned to his charge, by a charter dated
13th February, 1548-9. He was, however,
deprived some time after of the earldom;
but for what cause cannot be ascertained.
On the prior’s application, Mary, by the

advice of her mother, refused the demand,
advised him rather to continue in the
church, and offered him a bishopric either
in France or Scotland. He rejected the
proposal, and, offended at the officiousness
of the queen regent, fi“om this, it is said,
though without evidence, proceeded his
future opposition to her government.
As soon as the marriage of the queen
with the dauphin was celebrated, the
French court evinced their perfidious in-
tentions, by making demands of a most
extraordinary nature. They had first
allured the queen to sign certain docu-
ments, in their nature subversive of Scot-
tish independence, and. after the rejoicings
were ended, the commissioners were re-
quested by the chancellor of France to
deliver to the dauphin the regalia of Scot-
land, that the prince might be crowned
king of that nation. The ambassadors
replied, that they had received no com-
mands fi'om the parliament respecting these
matters.
The firm but respectful answer of the
prior and his colleagues, discovered to the
French that they would consent to nothing
which might tend to produce any alteration

in the order of succession to the crown
They were speedily dismissed from the
court, and they prepared to embark for
Scotland, with the pleasing idea that they
had not sacrificed their country’s independ-
But, before they embarked, four ol
the commissioners, and many of their re-
tinue, suddenly died, and it is currently
reported, that the French had revenged
themselves by administering poison to
them. The suspicion was the stronger, as
there was at that time no pestilential dis-
temper raging in the country; “ and even
Mezeray, the French historian,” says Keith,
“ seems to assent to the suspicion of poison,
by the contrivance of the duke of Guise
and his brother, lest these commissioners
should put a bar to their intended measures
against this kingdom.” The prior of St
Andrews, it is said, also tasted of the same
potion, and escaped death only from his
vigorous constitution. But the baneful
effects produced a complaint to which he
ever afterwards was subject. Lindsay of
Pitscottie says, “that the physicians hung
up the prior by the heels, to let the poison
drop out of him.”
The remaining deputies arrived safely at
Montrose, and they immediately proceeded
to Edinburgh, where a parliament was
summoned on the 29th September, 1558,
and there were assembled seven bishops,
sixteen abbots, thirteen earls, fifteen lords,
two masters, and ten for the boroughs.
Notwithstanding the caution and reluctance
displayed by the Scottish deputies, the
French faction, under the influence of the
queen-regent, ventured to move the demand
in parliament. The duke of Chatelherault
was the next heir to the crown, failing
Mary and her issue. The dauphin’s right
being thus incomplete, the French court
made a formal demand, in name of the
dauphin, for the crown matrimonial, or
rather a right to the revenues of the queen
While she lived, and after her decease. The
61106.
JAMES STUART, EARL ()F MORAY.
79


‘I
parliament refiised, and expressly limited
his right during the queen’s life. The duke
of Chatelherault protested in form against
the whole procedure ; but he, as the leader
of a party, was too feeble and irresolute to
withstand the influence of the queen-regent,
who had supplanted him in the government.
That crafty princess so managed the whole
affair, as to make the French demands
seem of little consequence. The parliament
at once consented to this dangerous en-
croachment of power; and the prior of St
Andrews and the earl of Argyle were
'leputed to represent the nation, and to
invest the dauphin with the matrimonial
crown. The protestants had favoured the
measure, to oppose the archbishop of St
Andrews and his party; while the dexter-
ous management of the queen-regent gave
her an influence in the parliament which
she would not otherwise have possessed.
The queen-regent had succeeded in her
plans to the utmost of her wishes, and she
had now no motives to interest her in the
protestants, who had cordially oined her in
Mary’s marriage, in opposition to the de-
signs of Chatelherault and the Hamilton
party. The prior and Argyle, though they
were deputed to invest the dauphin with
the crown-matrimonial, never went on their
embassy.
The Reformation had made a rapid pro-
(mess in Scotland after the murder of
cardinal Beaten, and the more frequent
intercourse with England tended very much
to its extension. The reformers were
everywhere opposed by the church and by
the state; and the queen-regent now en-
deavoured to destroy a party whose friend-
ship she had carefully cultivated, till she
had accomplished her secret purposes. The
reformers formed an association. which is
known in history by the name of the
Congregation.
clergy; the abuses of the church. the whole
They firmly remonstrated ,
against the tyranny and oppression of the


fabric of superstition. Matters were ap-
proaching to a crisis, and the nation was
divided into two great parties, between
which there was nothing but open warfare.
It was at Perth the queen-regent feared
the hazard of a battle with men whose
religious fervour made them superior to
fear. She had recourse to negotiation.
The prior was in her army, and, though he
had not forgotten her officiousness when
he was refused the earldom of Moray, and
was disposed to favour a cause for which
he had discovered an early predilection, he
continued with her, probably from scrupu-
lous notions of allegiance, and in the hope
that he might be able to serve his fi'iends
by moderate counsel. He was sent, along
with the earl of Argyle and lord Semple,
to inquire whether the confederates intend-
ed actually to rebel. The reforming lords
returned an unsatisfactory answer. The
queen then summoned them to surrender
and disperse, under pain of treason. They
replied to the Lyon-herald, that they had
convened to deliver the town from the
tyranny of the regent; but if she would
permit them the free exercise of their
religion, they and all their followers would
instantly depart at her command. Another
conference was held; and, in the meantime,
Glencairn arrived, having marched his
army day and night through the most
rugged and almost impassable defiles, and
having with great sagacity eluded various
detachments of the royal troops sent out to
intercept him. The regent soon got notice
of his approach. She had now to contend
with 7000 men, animated by the most
powerful religious enthusiasm, and whose
attack she feared would be irresistible.
She knew well, that, if she hazarded a
battle, and was defeated, her power and
the church would receive a deadly blow.
Again the prior, Argyle, and the abbot of ;
Kilwinning. were sent to negotiate. Thev
were met by Glencairn, Erskine of Dan,


80
SCOTS WORTHIES.



John Knox, and John Willox, another
preacher. Knox bitterly reproached the
prior and his friends for not joining the
congregation; accusing them of infidelity
because they took no part with them, when
it was well known that they countenanced
their proceedings. This they acknowledged
to be true ; but they said that they had
promised to the regent to attempt a recon-
ciliation, and they would not falsify their
honour; adding, however, that if the regent
kept not the proposed treaty, they would
desert her without fail. An agreement
was made, she was put in possession of the
town, and the confederates dispersed, after
having been edified by a sermon from
Knox, of no ordinary length and vehemence.
Although, however, he was pacific in the
midst of his rhetoric, he procured a new
associating bond to be drawn out before
their dispersion, as he was assured, he said,
that no part of the queen’s promise would
be long kept. This bond is known in
history by the name of the “ second cove-
nant,” and was solemnly signed by the
prior and Argyle, though they still remain-
ed with the queen, by Glencairn, lord
Boyd, lord Ochiltree, and Matthew Camp-
bell, in the name of the whole confederates.
Knox’s assertions were too soon verified.
In two days all the regent’s promises were
broken. She entered the town, garrisoned
it with French soldiers, and fined or
banished the inhabitants. The civil autho-
rities were deposed, and others elected
friendly to the church. Then for the first
time she was deserted by the prior. He
immediately joined the congregation, to
whom he was no small acquisition. It is
to be regretted that the increase of the
congregation had the usual character of
popular commotion. Forgetting all mode-
ration to those who believed not as them-
selves, they marched in triumph through
Fife, committing excesses which, though
the reaction of the tyranny they had en-

dured, disgraced the sacred cause in which
they were associated.
On the 11th of June, 1560, the regent
died. Her death, which. was peaceful and
affecting, made little impression on either
party. After her decease, a temporary
government was settled. In August, 1560,
the celebrated parliament met which estab-
lished the Reformation, and in it the prior
was appointed one of the lords of the
Articles.
He was one of the chief actors in
the war carried on between the confede-
rated reformers and the queen-regent. But
while he and his fiiends were employed in
strengthening their cause—while they were
still in suspense, dreading unforeseen dis-
tractions and calamities, filled with alarm
(notwithstanding their exultation in the
overthrow of popery and the countenance
of Elizabeth) that the popish party were
not altogether annihilated, and that their
resources could not save them from do-
mestic strife, or the attacks of their power-
ful enemies,—in consequence of the death
of Francis I. of France, other political
objects were developed: the tie which
united France and Scotland was now com-
pletely broken.
No sooner was the death of Francis,
Mary's husband, known in Scotland, than
a council of the nobility was appointed to
be held at Edinburgh, on the 15th of
January, 1561.
ing to appointment; they were all, of
course, protestants, who, in the parliament
of the former year, had achieved the
downfall of the popish hierarchy. After
some deliberation, lord James Stuart, prior
of St Andrews, the queen’s brother,
was commissioned to repair to France,
and to persuade the queen to return to
her own kingdom. The prior complied,
but he was particularly cautioned by the
reformers as to his negociations on the
catholic Worship. They enjoined him,
The council met, accord-


J AMES STU ART,
EARL or MORAY. 81
._
.______nm_____u_

after he had condoled with his sister, to
declare to her, that the performance of the
mass could not be tolerated in the kingdom,
either in public or in private; and they
took care to make him sensible, that if he
did consent, he would betray the cause of
God, and expose religion to the utmost
danger. The prior, however, although he
was zealous enough in the cause of the
Reformation, was by no means inclined to
act so honestly, as to ofi‘end his sovereign
by presuming to dictate to her. His reply
to this injunction was short but expressive.
“ I shall never consent,” said he, “that mass
shall be performed in public; but if the
queen wishes to have it done in her own
apartment, who will dare to prohibit her '3”
The answer of the prior was perfectly
consistent with the indisputable right of
every human being to worship God accord-
ing to the dictates of conscience But as the
exercise of any office in a state, supposes
certain duties to be performed, and failing
in performance, an individual is not eligible
for such ofice: it therefore became neces-
sary, as the ruler of a reformed nation,
and for the protection of the rights of her
subjects, that the queen should cease to
make profession of the ancient faith. It
was indeed a most unpropitious prospect
held out to Mary, on her return to her
1ative land; and Knox and his friends
seem not to have relished the answer of
the prior. In the margin of his “ His-
toric,” the reader is told to “note the
liberality of the earle Murray,” and to
“note this diligently ;” and the reformer,
after narrating the circumstance, abruptly
says, “ The danger was shown, and so he
[the prior] departed.”
The papists, likewise, as if not to be
outdone by their enemies in professions
of loyalty to their sovereign, despatched
an able commissioner to France. The
celebrated and learned John Leslie, the
historian, and afterwards bishop of Ross,

was appointed to represent Mary’s catholic
subjects; to assure her of their respect
and loyal afi‘ection, and to warn her against
the prior’s insinuating manners, as his sole
intention, according to their political fore-
sight, was to seize the government.
Both these ambassadors left Scotland at
the same time, and took different routes
Leslie, who was vicar-general and official
of Aberdeen, sailed directly from that city:
the prior, with a retinue uncommonly
numerous, departed from Edinburgh, with
the intention to proceed through England,
and accomplish the journey by land. Hav-
ing some business, either of a public or a
private nature, to transact at the English
court, he was honourably received and
entertained by Elizabeth; and of this cir-
cumstance, as we shall presently see, his
enemies have unfairly taken advantage.
Both ambassadors, however, wishing to get
the start of each other, made all possible
despatch; but Leslie, who was a man of
prudence and address, having anticipated
the prior, arrived the day before his oppo—
nent; and, finding Mary at Vitry, in Cham-
pagne, there tendered to her his homage.
Mary received the ecclesiastic with dignity
and respect, and Leslie immediately unfold-
ed to her the nature of his embassy. He
explained to the queen in glowing language
the secret ambition of the prior her natural
brother, that his great object was to seize
the crown,—-he warned her against his
insidious eloquence and deceitful proposals,
because he had resolved to dissuade her
from bringing French soldiers into Scot-
land, by which he would be enabled to
strike a fatal and irrecoverable blow against
the catholic religion: he declared to her,
that the prior supported the opinions of the
protestants, not because he cared for them,
but because he could render the protestants
subservient to his ambition,——that the
whole of the prior’s conduct was merely
political,—that he wished, from motives of
L



82
7
SCOTS WORTHIES.




policy, to extirpate the Roman catholic
religion out of the kingdom, as to it he had
uniformly displayed the most inveterate
hostilityr—that his only desire was to rise
to power and magnificence, and that his
ambitious eyes were already fixed on the
crown and sceptre,-—-and he (Leslie) there-
fore advised the queen to procure the prior’s
confinement in France, as consistent with
her own security, until she had re-establish-
ed the ancient order of church and state
in her kingdom; but if she was averse to
this measure, he advised her to comply
with the advice of her loyal friends, and
not to trust herself among the reformers,
especially among those with whom the late
rebellion had originated, but to land in the ,‘
north of Scotland, where she would find
an army of twenty thousand men, with the
earl of Huntly and other noblemen at their
head, ready to escort her to Edinburgh.
The prior arrived the following day, and
was introduced to his sister at St Dizier,
in the neighbourhood of Vitry. He was
soon informed of the conversation between
her and Leslie, but he had sufficient com-
mand over himself to treat it with neglect.
He knew well that many had attempted to
prejudice llIary’s mind towards him, and
though he had good cause to be exasper-
ated at Leslie’s advice to put him in con-
finement, he nevertheless conducted himself
with his wonted prudence. Mary received
her brother with the utmost apparent kind~~
ness; and, though he had lost her favour
during the life of her husband for his conduct
in the reformed cause, she felt it prudent
to show no appearance of resentment.
Though the prior took no notice of Leslie’s
counsels, yet they prompted him to act
with more decision. He informed her, that
nothing was more ardently desired by her
subjects, than her “eturn to her own king-
dom,--that she needed no foreign aid; for 5
she would find the nation willing and
obedient,-—that she would be supported on

a
her throne by the best defence, the affec-
tions of her subjects, who, he well knew,
would receive her in the most affectionate
manner,——-that the great object which she
ought to have in view was the national
welfare, and the preservation of that tran-
quillity which had so lately been restored.
He also informed her, that a standing army
and foreign troops were utterly obnoxious
to the genius and disposition of the nation,
-—that “ these expedients, at all times
dangerous, would, in the present situation
of affairs, excite the most dangerous com—
motions,—-—that it was by far more prudent
to confide in the generosity of her people;
and he therefore entreated her to revisit
them without guards and without soldiers,
and he became solemnly bound to secure
to her their obedience.” Mary heard the
prior throughout with the utmost attention;
and trusting to his apparent sincerity, she
tenderly embraced him, and committed
herself to his counsels.
Pleased with the prior, and feeling to-
wards him the affection of a sister, the
young and enthusiastic Mary confided in
his professions, conscious of the rectitude of
her own mind; and happy indeed would it
have been for her, had she suffered herselfv
to have been implicitly guided by his coun-
sels in after life. She displayed all the
afifection which the prior could wish, nor
were his professions of regard and attach-
ment wanting in return. Accompanying
her to J oinville, he cultivated still farther
her kindness and favour, and he again
renewed his application for the earldom of
Moray, which had lain dormant since the
death of the last earl, a son of James IV.,
and which had been previously refused
him during the life of the queen-regent,
who feared his ambition, and dreaded his
talents and address. Mary either gave
him her promise, or told him that it would
be considered on her arrival in Scotland.
Nevertheless, he was gratified by he“
|
_ ____._~. __.__.?_,'_—-‘___
JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
83



flattering reception, and he now began to
entertain thoughts of returning home, that
he might prepare the nation to receive their
sovereign.
The prior attended the queen, in the
preparations for her voyage, to J oinville, a
seat belonging to the house of Guise, and,
after remaining there a short time, he re-
turned home, taking his route through
England. He was undoubtedly unpopular
in Paris ; for the catholics had not forgotten
his opposition to the regent, and the con-
spicuous part he had sustained in the
destruction of the Romish hierarchy in
Scotland.
The prior left Mary before her embark-
ation, and proceeded home through England,
with the intention, as Knox has it, of pre-
paring Mary’s subjects to receive her with
affection. While in England, the prior
saw Elizabeth and her ministers; and this
has given occasion to his enemies to vilify
him Without measure. We are gravely
told by many historians, that the anxiety
of Elizabeth to intercept Mary originated
in the advice of the prior and Maitland of
Lethington,—that the English fleet was
sent out by their advice, “for James the
bastard,” says Stranguage, “very lately
returned‘by England, had secretly advised
queen Elizabeth to take Mary by the way,
if she (Elizabeth) had a desire to provide
for her religion and her own security; and
Lethington, being glad that I)’Ossel was
detained in England, persuaded it also.”
Camden, too, writes in the same strain, as
do various other authors ; and truly, were
it possible to believe that the prior suggest-
ed this scheme, “ he would deservedly be
regarded as having been one of the basest
and most unprincipled of men.” But it
must be remarked, that there is not the
least shadow of even circumstantial evi-
dence to support the charge; and, without
evidence of the most satisfactory and un-
doubted nature, it would be absurd and
i ridiculous to believe it.

Goodall, indeed,
dogmatically and firmly asserts it; but so
superficial and irrelevant are his authorities
and observations, and to so great a degree
does he carry his hatred towards the prior,
in order to establish his own extravagant
hypothesis, that all his assertions must go
for nothing. The truth is, even granting
that the prior was crafty and ambitious,
which he undoubtedly was, notwithstanding
his patriotism, he had at this time no
motive to induce him to such a procedure,
or thus to have acted the part of a vile and
unnatural traitor. He had just been in
France, and had conferred with the queen
his sister,—he had made the most solemn
declarations of loyalty, and had been re-
ceived with the utmost favour,—he had the
assurance that Mary would be guided by
his counsels, and even that he would be
raised to the helm of government; it was
not, in truth, his interest that Mary should
be intercepted, as all his hopes and projects
would have been annihilated,—the country
would have been rent by factions,-—-and the
humble and solitary voice of the prior,
aided though he might have been even by
all the zealous rhetoric of the reformers,
would have been put to silence by the
more powerful and adventurous nobles,
with the turbulent Chatelherault and the
powerful house of Hamilton at their head.
His ambition, indeed, could not have been
gratified in any way. It is insinuated that
he aspired to the crown, and that this was
the motive which induced him thus to
counsel Elizabeth. But, granting this for
a moment, what follows ? Either the prior
must have been a feel or a miserable poli-
tician, with neither of which characters his
enemies have ever charged him. He could
not obtain the crown during the life of his
sister, even though she had been closely
confined by Elizabeth; the right of succes-
sion could not be altered, especially when
Mary had done nothing to cause such an


84
SCOTS WORTHIES.



MA


act; nor could Elizabeth inflict death on
Mary, when the only thing alleged against
the Scottish queen was her refusal to ratify
the treaty of Edinburgh. It is evident, we
think, from the whole aspect of the times,
that the interception of the queen would
have completely ruined the prior’s interest,
and that his enemies have merely laid
hold of the fact of his passing through
England on his return home, to fasten on
him the whole odium of Elizabeth’s pro-
cedure. .
In her zeal for the due administration
of the laws, Mary advanced the prior to be
lord-lieutenant and chief justiciary. The
borders were in a state of turbulence, and
thither the prior directed an expedition in
person. Two criminal courts were held
by him, the one at J edburgh, the other at
Dumfries, and the military retainers from
no less than eleven counties were com-
manded to attend him at the former town,
and to remain there for twenty days.
The borders, in those days, were infested
by armed banditti, who committed the
most lawless depredations, and whom suc-
cess had made insolent and intolerable.
Far removed from the influence of the two
courts, dwelling on the debdtedble ground,
which had been the scene of many a strife
‘ of death in preceding ages, the inhabitants
associated together in feudal dependencies,
under leaders ferocious, barbarous, and
ungovernable. Attacking their enemies
when they pleased, they subsisted entirely
by rapine and robbery; nor did they ever
retreat from the objects of their attack
without leaving terrible marks of their
inroads and devastations. To restrain such
fi~eebooters was a matter of no small im-
portance; more especially as, from their
knowledge of the country, they could re-
treat to the fastnesses, and at least for a
time elude the vigilance of justice. The
military skill of the prior was profound,
his courage in high esteem, and the pru-

dence which he had uniformly displayed
in all his warlike operations, had ensured
to him a boundless popularity. In order
that he might be assisted against the border
banditti, a strong military force was order- ,
ed to attend him, raised from the above
number of counties ; for as yet the advan-
tages of a standing army were unknown.
In this expedition, his success corresponded
to his abilities, and his administration of
justice was most severe. He destroyed
many of the strongholds of the freebooters:
he executed twenty of the most notorious:
offenders, and sent fifty more to the capital
to undergo the punishments of the law.
At Kelso, he had a conference with the
English wardens, lord Grey and Sir John
Foster; and they mutually made some salu-
tary regulations for the preservation of the
public tranquillity.
The prior was doubtless the great leader
of the reformers, and his presence and
influence were powerful checks to the fallen
ecclesiastics. The distinguished share
which he had taken in the wars of the
congregation, and the opposition which he
had shown to the arbitrary encroachments
of the civil government, early distinguished
him as a popular leader, and he had secured
the universal applause of the people. It
has been said, or insinuated, on the autho-
rity of various partial historians, that his
commission to quell the border tumults
was appointed by the queen, in the hope
that he might there fall a sacrifice to his
bravery; but no part of Mary’s conduct
justifies such an insinuation. It is, however,
certain, that, though the queen had no ob-
j ect to serve by such a design, as the very
man would have been destroyed in whom
she placed the greatest confidence; yet
the prior’s virulent enemies, the catholics,
would have heartily rejoiced had such a
calamity befallen him. This is evident
from the fact, that his absence on his
commission afforded some encouragement







JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
S5
to the ecclesiastics. His presence about i borders, than the archbishop of St Andrews,
the queen’s person had retarded them in
the bishops of Caithness and Dunblane,
their insidious designs; but no sooner was with other zealous adherents of the catholic
it known that their enemy was on the


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bishop of Ross, was already there, and he
was the well-known agent of the French
interest; he had advertised his ecclesiasti-
cal brethren of the favourable opportunity,
which he better knew, because he had been
recently elected one of the new council. The
greatest hopes of the prelates were placed
in Mary’s known attachment to the popish
superstition; yet they feared, fi*om her
connexion with the protestants, and from
the influence which the prior had over her
mind, that she might at least be induced to
give up the celebration of that indispensable
part of the popish ritual, the mass. But
though the prior was absent, he did not
want an indefatigable auxiliary and substi-
tute to watch over the interests of the Be-
formation. Knox had entertained suspi-
cions of the queen fi‘om her arrival, which
had been farther confirmed by the audience

she condescended to give him when he
delivered his opinion “ that her conversion
was hopeless,”-—and it was his constant
theme to declaim against her motives and
actions. As his influence was almost un-
bounded, his success was equal to that in-
fiuen ce. Preaching against idolatry was his
forte ; and by his rhetoric the people began
seriously to doubt whether they ought to
pay allegiance to a princess whom they
conceived to be an idolater; and the more
obscure preachers, imitating the example
of their leader, circulated his sentiments
and phraseology over the kingdom, and
excited the popular distrust and dissatisfac-
tion. Those symptoms escaped not the
penetrating eye of Randolph, the English
resident. He thus writes to secretary
Cecil :——“ It is now called in question
whether the princess, being an idolater.


E
l


86
SCOTS WORTHlES.


L
may be obeyed in all civil and politic
actions. I think marvellously of the wis-
dom of God, that gave this unruly, incon-
stant, and cumbersome people no more
substance and power than they have; for
then they would run wild.’7
The prior had now acquired an almost
unprecedented degree of popularity. En-
titled to the respect and friendship of
the queen, on account of his eminent
abilities, and to her gratitude for his public
services and the salutary tendencies of
his counsels, and having discharged his
duty on the borders with the utmost
applause and diligence, as lord-lieutenant,
Mary began to think of rewarding him on
his resignation of that office, and of con-
ferrin g on him a distinguishing mark of
her favour. Accordingly, as he had always
manifested a repugnance to the ecclesias—
tical life, he was promoted to th- dignity
and earldom of Mar.
About this period, also, the prior formed
a matrimonial alliance, and he was publicly
married in the church of St Giles, to lady
Agnes Keith, a daughter of the earl mari-
schall. We are told by Knox in his history,
that after the ceremony was performed (of
course in the reformed manner), he was
addressed by the preacher to the following
cffect:-—“ Sir, the church of God hath
received comfort by you, and by your
labour, unto this day; if you prove more
faint therein afterwards, it will be said that
your wife hath changed your nature.”
The fears of the preachers were almost
realized on this occasion; for the mar-
riage was celebrated with such a splen-
dour and magnificence, as roused all their
religious apprehensions. They actually
dreaded that some avenging judgment or
calamity would afflict the land. The
utmost clamour was raised against the
prior’s riotous feasting and banquets ; but
their bitterness was still greater towards
the masquerades, with which he amused


his fiiends, as being till that time unknown
in Scotland; and, as they seemed to the
preachers to encourage gallantry and licen-
tiousness, against them the severest lan-
guage of indignation was directed.
The well-known talents of the prior,
now earl of Mar; the influence he
possessed in the state, as the confidential
minister of the queen; the honours which
he had received, and his general conduct,
had drawn upon him a number of enemies
—men who beheld his exaltation with the
utmost suspicion, and who secretly deter-
mined to effect his ruin. The age was
distinguished by its turbulence, aggra-
vated by fierce disputes about religion;
and, as the feudal system at that time
prevailed to the utmost extent, the here-
ditary animosities, which had been long
fostered among the most powerful families,
operated from the chief to the most in-
significant of his retainers, and ever and
anon broke out with violence, as circum-
stances seemed favourable. The Scottish
nobility were generally ambitious, factions,
and fickle ; and by them the earl of Mar
was beheld with secret hatred. And so
savage and barbarous was the —an age
in which every man almost did that which
was right in his own eyes—that even the
nobles, who, from their station, ought to
have disdained such dastardly revenge,
were so far hurried along by their violent
passions, as without scruple to despatch
their enemies by the dagger, when an
opportunity of assassination was afforded.
The most formidable of Mar’s enemies,
and the most desperate, was the earl of
Huntly. This powerful chieftain had a
most extensive influence in the Highlands,
—his followers were savage, and, like him-
self, adventurous and daring. Already
had Huntly signalized himself by various
achievements, and his untameable spirit
pervaded all his dependents. In fact, they
seem to have been a kind of recognised


JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
87



banditti. subsisting wholly by warfare,
attacks on their neighbours, and predatory
incursions into the territories of those who
had been so unfortunate as to incur the
displeasure of their chief.
The earl of Mar, while he was prior,
and the earl of Huntly, had been rivals for
power; and during this contention, mu-
tual disgusts had arisen between them.
They were not less opposed to each other
in politics than in religion. Mar was the
avowed leader and supporter of the re-
formers; Huntly was the head of their
enemies the papists. It will be recollected,
that, on the death of Francis—when Mary,
seeing she could not support her influence
in France as a dowager, had resolved to
revisit her native kingdom—Leslie, after-
wards bishop of Ross, had been appointed
by the Scottish catholics as their repre-
sentative; while the prior appeared in his
own person on the part of the protestants.
The counsel of the prior was preferred,
and hence began Huntly’s jealousy and
dissatisfaction. He and his faction had
offered to support Mary with 20,000 men,
if she would land among them; but his
offer was rejected. He had advised her to
detain the prior in France as a prisoner,
as his influence and talents were dangerous
to the state; and this advice was not only
disregarded, but he had the mortification
to see his rival caressed and honoured.
Even after Mary’s arrival, he had proffered
his services to establish the ancient church;
and he had conversed with her bigoted
uncles on the subject, yet he was disregard-
At the royal palace he was treated;
0 c o . i
only with civility; and, although he was ‘
ed.
chancellor, he possessed neither influence
nor confidence. Every thing was, in his
opinion, engrossed by his rival; disdain and
contempt, he clearly foresaw, were all he
could expect as long as the earl of Mar
prevailed.
»
l
1
These neglects and mortifica- .

Huntly—of illustrious birth, boundless
ambition, vast wealth, and powerful re-
sources. But he was to feel other humi-
liations, at once destructive of all his
authority, his consequence, and, in his
opinion, of his very family and name.
The prior, as we have just observed, had
been rewarded with the dignity of earl of
Mar, on account of his conduct in his border
expedition. With this dignity, however, be
was far from being content. Lord Erskine,
with whom he was most intimately con-
nected by his mother, claimed the territory
of Mar as his own peculiar property; and
the prior’s favourite object had been the
earldom of Moray.
claim, and though there was no authority
for his immediate right—for he acquired
Erskine advanced his
not the property till some years afterwards,
~—his claim was received. The prior resign-
ed that earldom to his mother’s house ; and,
not many months after his first advancement
as earl of Mar, the queen gratified the wish
which he had never lost sight of, by con-
ferring on him the earldom of Moray. As
by this title he is best known in history,
we henceforth, of course, designate him as
the earl of Moray.
We have said that Moray had a number
of enemies. His proceedings, his encourage-
ment of the Reformation, and his talents,
had made hin. so obnoxious, that repeated
conspiracies were formed to assassinate
The licentious Bothwell and the
earl of Arran had resolved, as we shall
presently sec, to murder Moray the very
first opportunity, on account of some per-
hiin .
sonal injuries, either real or imaginary.
Bothwell undertook to perpetrate this
villany, while Moray was with the queen
at Falkland; and it would have been
executed, had not the earl of Arran, dc-
testing such a deed, sent a letter privately
to H oray, discovering the whole conspiracy,
and thus he escaped the meditated evil.
tions were too great for a man such as j Bothwell fled fi~om justice into France.




68
SCOTS Vv'ORTHIES.


Moray’s elevation, however, now made him
more envied, and his enemies secretly re-
solved to destroy a man before whom they
felt awe and humiliation.
I-Iuntly beheld, with the most impatient
ndignation, the advancement of his (head-
rival; and he at last
reasoned himself into the belief, that a
design had been entered into at court,
under the auspices of Moray, to effect his
own ruin, and utterly to annihilate his
family. This idea was farther strengthened
fi~om his peculiar circumstances. The
estates of Mar and Moray had been as-
signed to him, not as his own right, but
merely in trust; he had possessed them
for some time, and though he had not the
slightest legal claim, he had always consi-
dered them as his own property. With
maddening rage he beheld them torn from
him to aggrandize his hated rival; he
complained but he was disregarded. Fear-
ing the influence of his enemy in his own
country, he felt these humiliations as the
most decisive blows to all his greatness.
He now no longer disguised his intentions,
but in defiance of the queen’s proclamation,
openly took arms; and instead of yielding
those places of strength, which Mary re-
ed and deteste"
quired him to surrender, his followers dis-
persed, or cut in pieces, the parties which
she despatched to take possession of them;
and he himself advancing with a. consider-
able body of men towards Aberdeen. to
which place the queen was now returned
filled her small court with consternation.
h‘loray had only a handful of men in whom
he could confide. In order to form the
appearance of an army, he was obliged to
call in the assistance of the neighbouring
barons ; but as most of these either favour-
ed Huntly’s designs, or stood in awe of his
power, from them no cordial or effectual
service could be expected.
Vilith these troops, however, liloray, who
could gain nothing by delay, marched


?
i
briskly towards the enemy. He found
them at Corrichie, posted to great advan-
tage; he commanded his northern asso—
ciates instantly to begin the attack; but on
the first motion of the enemy, they trea-
cherously turned their backs ; and Huntly’s
followers, throwing aside their spears, and
breaking their ranks, drew their swords,
and rushed forward to the pursuit. It was
then that Moray gave proof both of steady
courage and of prudent conduct. He stood
immoveable on a rising ground, with the
small but trusty body of his adherents,
who, presenting their spears to the enemy,
received them with adetermined resolution
which they little expected. Before they
recovered from the confusion occasioned
by this unforeseen resistance, Moray’s
northern troops, who had fled so shame-
fully in the beginning of the action, willing
to regain their credit with the victorious
party, fell upon them and completed the rout.
I-Iuntly himself, who was extremely corpu-
lent, was trodden to death in the pursuit.
His sons, Sir John and Adam Gordon,
were taken prisoners. Moray marched
his victorious troops back to Aberdeen,
“where,” says Buchanan, “he had appoint-
ed a minister of the gospel to wait for
his return, and gave thanks to the God
of battles, who, out of his infinite niercy,
beyond all men’s expectation, and without
any strength or wisdom of his own, had
delivered him and his men from such
imminent danger.”
Moray proceeded innnediately to the
queen, to inform her of his victory; but
she received the tidings without any joyful
emotion. Perhaps a consciousness of the
rivalship of Moray and Huntly,-—syunpathy
for the misfortunes of the latter, and an
idea that she had proceeded rashly, and
given way too easily to Moray’s representa-
tions, operated upon her, and raised some
sorrow for the destruction of an illustrious
house, and for a nobleman who was, not-


JAMES STUART,
EARL or MoRAY. 89




withstanding his faults, loyal to her, and
attached to her religion.
Moray was now in the most desirable
situation. By his influence and dexterity,
all his rivals had been removed. Mary’s
affection towards him was sincere; she
was guided by his counsels, and he in
return rendered her salutary advice. In-
deed, the aspect of the country had
been totally changed through Moray’s
influence. Peace was now restored; the
laws were efficient; commerce and the
arts flourished; learning was encouraged;
the protestants were allowed to assemble
without molestation, and their preachers
were openly countenanced by the state.
Freed at length from those turbulent fac-
tions which had so long harassed them,
though these were too soon again to dis-
tract the country, a momentary repose was
enjoyed; men felt the blessings of civiliza-
tion and happiness. The people, in general,
were contented and happy; Moray’s con-
duct was viewed with every respect and
indulgence; he was deservedly popular,
and his administration was salutary and
useful. ()f profound and versatile talents,
he equally knew how to govern in war and
peace; and alike great in the cabinet and
the field, he had the good of his country at
heart, even though he made many of his
public acts subservient to his ambition.
In a word, during this momentary respite
from the ebullitions of factions passion,
the ancient maxim seemed to be verified,
that the people can only be called happy
who are under the administration of a
sage.
In Why, 1503, an act of indemnity was
passed, in which it was declared that the
earl of Moray, and the other leaders of the
protestants, should not be molested, or
called to account, for the outrages, tumults,
and other achievements, carried on by
the congregation, between the years 1558
and 1561, under Moray’s auspices, when ,

he was only prior of St Andrews, and in
arms against the authority of the queen-
regent. This was a necessary procedure,
as it was probable that their conduct might
be reviewed in some after period, should
an opportunity offer. About this time, i:
is said, he made a singular proposal to the
queen. He advised her to entail the right
of succession to the crown, on four families
of the name of Stuart; and it is also said,
that the queen deliberated with her counci‘
on the measure, but that they gave it their opinion that she could not alter the
legal succession. It is evident, that if the
counsel of Moray was such, it goes far at
this time to prove his patriotism, as he
could have little hope of being first named,
if, indeed, named at all.
It is necessary to notice some important
transactions which occurred about this
time. The beauty and accomplishments
of Mary were universally known; and
many of the European princes ardently
sighed to share her crown. With a king—
dom as her dowry, joined to her external
accomplishments, she attracted the admira-
tion of numerous suitors.
Mary herself was not averse to marriage
She had remained a widow for a suflicient
period, and had honoured the memory of
her husband by her exemplary coriduct.
But she felt that without a vigorous govern-
ment she could have little peace or security.
Her ministers were continually engaging
in plots and family animosities; the nobles
were fierce and haughty; the protestant
clergy her avowed opponents; and the
people, in general, animated by their own
peculiar opinions. Young, beautifiil, and
amiable, among a people of a different re-
ligion, she felt herself without friends,
solitary, and unprotected.
It was in the year 1565, that lord
Darnley, son of the earl of Lennox, arrived
in Scotland, and was introduced to Mary
at the castle of Wemyss, in the county of
if
*


90
w\
T
sco'rs WORTHIES. i

Fife. The first interview made a favour-
able impression on the queen. At that
time, in the vigour of manhood, his stature
was tall and graceful, his countenance
beautiful and regular. “ In beauty and
in gracefulness of person,” says Dr
Robertson, “ he surpassed all his contem-
poraries; he excelled eminently in all
those arts which add ease and elegance to
external form, and which enable it not
only to dazzle, but to please.” Mary was
in the buoyancy of youthful vivacity;
her beauty shed a radiance around the
circle in which she moved; every amuse-
ment was produced to please “ the new
arrived ;” banquets, masks, and dancing
were celebrated; and love stole into her
heart. She had been distracted by
intrigues and jarring interests; now she
resigned herself to the potency of those
gentle feelings which elevate the mind amid
its corroding cares. The courtiers observ~
ed the sovereign’s conduct; her feelings
escaped not their penetrating eyes. They
saw that Darnley was beloved; that the
memory of all the queen’s former suitors
was effaced; and some of them, especially
Morton and Glencairn, did not disguise
their sentiments of dislike'to the rumoured
alliance. The opposition of the former,
however, resulted from his personal interest
being endangered. He had claimed the
earldom of Angus, to which the now
restored countess of Lennox also alleged
her right.
Foresecing what would be the conse-
quence of the queen’s marriage with
Darnley, Moray set himself resolutely
to oppose it; but finding little attention
paid to what he urged on the subject
in the convention of estates, he chose
rather to absent himself for some time;
and accordingly retired to the border,
where he remained until that event was
consummated.
After the murder of Rizzio, Moray

returned. Mary having heard of his
arrival, knowing well his power, his talents,
and his capacity to serve her, and as it
appeared to her that he had no connexion
with the murder, perceived the import-
ance of attaching him to her interest.
Her natural regard for him also returned,
and she felt inclined to bestow on him a
sister’s affection.
Accordingly, as the queen’s accouchement
was hastening on, Moray resolved to take
advantage of every circumstance, and to
effect the return of Morton, Lethington,
and their associates. He began openly to
plead for their recall; and his conduct
alarmed the bishop of Ross and the earl of
Huntly. They proceeded forthwith to the
queen, informed her of the facts, and en-
forced on her the necessity of committing
such a dangerous man to prison ; but she
refused to listen to their remonstrance,
and suffered it to pass unnoticed, save by
instructing Sir James Melville to observe
Moray’s conduct and that of his party with
the utmost vigilance. The delivery of the
queen now approached; and letters were
sent to all the nobility, desiring them to
resort to the capital, and to reside near her
person. Mary herself proceeded to the
castle of Edinburgh, in which the king,
Moray, Argyle, and other nobles, at this
juncture resided. On the 19th of June,
1566, she was delivered of a prince, after-
wards James VI. This important event
was hailed with every sign of enthusiasm
and joy. A messenger was immediately
despatched to London, to communicate the
tidings to Elizabeth. She was at a ball in
Greenwich when she received the informa-
tion: instantly she threw herself into a
chair in the utmost agony and sorrow; and
for some time she appeared almost without
animation. At length she burst into tears,
and exclaimed, “ Alas! Mary of Scotland
is the mother of a fair son, while I am a
solitary and joyless maiden.”



JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
91




The deeply tragical incidents which!
succeeded, disgusted him more and more
at the court. With these the public are
well acquainted. The murder of Darnley,
and Mary’s after marriage with the assassin
of her husband, has occasioned too much
speculation of late years, not to be known
to every one in the least acquainted with
Scottish history. Moray no v found it
impossible to live at a court where his im-
placable enemy was so highly honoured.
Bothwell insulted him openly. He therefore
asked leave of the queen to travel abroad;
and she, being willing to get rid of him at
all events, granted his desire, upon his pro-
mising not to make any stay in England.
He went to France, and remained there
till he heard that she was in custody at
Lochleven, and that Bothwell had fled to
Denmark. He then returned home.
On the 29th of July, 1567, James VI.
was crowned king of Scotland at Stirling. '
The papers which the queen had signed
were read, and her resignation was receiv—
ed by the assembled nobles in the name of
the three estates. Morton, bending his
body, and laying his hand on the scriptures,
took the coronation oath for the infant
king. John Knox preached the inaugura-
tion sermon, and the prince was then
anointed king of Scotland by Adam
Bothwell, bishop of Orkney,—-a ceremony
which Knox and his friends declaimed
against as a Jewish ceremony. That pre—
late then delivered to him the sword and
sccptrc, and finally placed on his head the
royal crown.
On the 22d day of August, 1567, Moray
was solemnly invested with the regency, in
presence of the principal nobles, some of
the bishops, and other church dignitaries.
The good effects of Moray’s accession to
the regency were quickly felt. The party
forming for the queen was weak, irresolute,
and disunited; and no sooner was the
government of the kingdom in the hands

i
of a man so remarkable both for his abilities
and popularity, than the nobles, of whom
it was composed, lost all hopes of gaining
ground, and began to treat separately with
the regent. So many of them were brought
to acknowledge the king’s authority, that
scarce any appearance of opposition to the
established government was left in the king—
dom. The regent was no less success-
ful in his attempts to get into his hands
the places of strength in the kingdom. By
liberal bribes and gifts fi~om his own eccle-
siastical property, Sir James Balfour de-
livered to him the castle of Edinburgh.
Falkland, the fortalice of the Bass, and
other castles, were surrendered without
opposition. The castle of Dunbar, Both-
well’s famous stronghold, was summoned;
and, marching in person, with four large
cannon, six smaller pieces, and a great
store of military equipments, it capitulated
on his approach. The town of Haddington,
in his way, had given signs of turbulence;
but he compelled the inhabitants to obedi-
ence. The town of Dumfries also was
obliged to submit. Then marching towards
the borders, and arriving secretly and
suddenly in Hawick, he sallied out, and
attacked the border marauders when they
least expected him, seizing thirty-four of
them, part of whom were hanged and part
drowned. In another part of the border,
be seized fifteen more; five, however, got
their liberty, upon the delivery of hostages;
and ten were brought to Edinburgh, and
there laid in irons. He quickly restored
order, and the exercise of the laws.
It must not be forgotten, and, indeed, it
will be evident from what we have already
recorded, that the state of the country on
Moray’s elevation was most unfavourable.
The people were in a state of transition
from the superstitions and traditions of their
fathers—the nation was excited,-—the
laws were often defeated in their execution,
—-justice frequently disregarded—every


92
SCOTS WORTHIES.


petty baron or chief reigned absolute in
his own domains. Civil wars, too, had
distracted the public mind—had retarded
the progress of civilization, and had en-
gendered that restless spirit which was
destined to be transmitted to the succeed-
ing century, and to involve the country in
strife and bloodshed.
On the 15th of December, the parliament i
assembled. The regent rode to it in great
solemnity; Argyle carried the sword,
Huntly the sceptre, and Angus the crown.
The nation was now tranquil through
Moray’s endeavours; and there was no
interruption to public business; but he
could not be said to be properly the regent
until he was confirmed by parliament, nor
did resistance to him without this sanction
imply high treason. This, of course, was
soon obtained. Many wise and salutary
laws were enacted, which evinced that the
regent had the welfare of his country at
heart. The parliament granted everything
the confederates could demand, either for
the safety of their own persons, or the
security of that form of government which
they had established in the kingdom.
lVlary’s resignation of the crown was
accepted, and declared to be valid. The
king’s authority and Moray’s election were
recognised and confirmed. The imprison-
ing of the queen, and all the other pre-
ceedings of the confederates were pro-
nounced lawful. The letters which Mary
had written to Bothwell were produced,
and she was declared to be accessory to
the murder of the king. At the same
time, all the acts of the parliament of the
year 1560, in favour of the protestant
religion, were publicly ratified; new sta-
tutes to the same purpose were enacted;
and nothing that could contribute to
root out the remains of popery, or to
encourage the growth of the reformation,
was neglected.
The regent now pursued the murderers of

__‘_ ,,—_._~ _/~ -———-——-_V—~_~
the king. This surely is a proof of his inno-
cence. Several were taken and executed.
Intercessions were made for Mary’s libera-
tion by some foreign states; but the regent
publicly averred, what was the fact, that
the queen was not his prisoner; he was
amenable to the parliament, who had rati-
fled her imprisonment.
But while the regent was thus vigorously
administering the business of the state.~
composing internal commotions, and pro-
moting the happiness of his country, the
affairs of Mary took a different turn.
She had still numerous friends,——Moray
had numerous enemies. The length and
rigour of Mary’s sufferings began to move
many to commiserate her case. All who
leaned to the ancient religion, dreaded the
effects of Moray’s zeal. And he, though
his abilities were great, did not possess the
talents requisite for soothing the rage, or
removing the jealousies of the different
factions. His virtues were severe, and
his deportment to his equals, especially
after his elevation to the regency, distant
and haughty. The house of Hamilton
were in secret his implacable foes, fearing
that their right of succession to the crown
was in jeopardy. Murray of Tullibardine
was secret
Maitland of Lethington, who was famed
for his instability, and for his care of
his own interest, was now turning his
Lord
commanded Dumbarton
in his determined enemy.
crafty thoughts towards the queen.
Fleming still
castle in the name of his sovereign.
The catholics, headed by the primate of
St Andrews, were exasperated to a man
against Moray. Frequent meetings were.
held by the queen’s friends to contrive her
restoration.
Such was the favourable disposition of
the nation towards the queen, when she
recovered her liberty, in a manner no less
surprising to her friends, than unexpected
by her enemies. Several attempts had



JAMES sTUAR'n'EARL or MORAY.
93


been made to procure her an opportunity
of escaping, which some unforeseen accident,
or the vigilance of her keepers, had hitherto
disappointed. At last, Mary employed all
her art to gain George Douglas, her keeper’s
brother, a youth of eighteen. As her
manners were naturally affable and insin-
uating, she treated him with the most
flattering distinction; she even allowed
him to entertain the most ambitious hopes,
by letting fall some expressions, as if she
would choose him for her husband. At
his age, and in such circumstances, it was
scarcely possible to resist such a tempta-
tion. He yielded, and drew others into
the plot.
On the 2d of May, 1568, whilst the lady
of Lochleven and his eldest brother were
at supper, George Douglas contrived to
gain possession of the keys of the castle,
which were usually deposited in his grand-
inother’s bedroom, after the gates were
locked. The queen and her attendants
were in readiness; her youthful deliverer

I . thousand
the waters ; the moon shone bright in the
heavens, and shed her silvery tints on the
surface of the dark blue lake. Getting
into the boat, the adventurers flew across
the watery expanse; but the plashing of
the ears roused the inmates of the castle,
and an alarm was instantly given. “ Trea-
son! treason l” was loudly exclaimed when
the flight of the queen was discovered, and
several fire-arms were discharged after the
fugitivesfx‘ They landed, however, in safety
on the opposite shore, where the queen
was received by lord Seaton, and a chosen
troop of horsemen in complete armour.
Mary again felt herself to be a queen;
immediately she mounted, and long before
break of day she and her trusty adherents
had crossed the Forth, and ended their
hasty and dangerous journey before the
gates of Niddrie castle, in West Lothian,
which belonged to lord Seaton. After the
repose of a few hours, she proceeded to
Hamilton; her friends advising her to enter
Dumbarton castle, then commanded by her
adherent lord Fleming.
No sooner was Mary’s escape known,
than her friends resorted to her from all
quarters. In a few days, her court was
filled with a great and splendid train of
nobles, accompanied by such numbers of
followers as formed an army above six
strong. Her resignation of
I~ the crown was declared to be null and
void; the nobles subscribed a bond in

(Queen Mary’s Escape from Lochleven Castle]
conducted her out of prison; a boat was
prepared; and, locking the castle gates
behind him to prevent pursuit, he took the
keys with him. The night was clear and
serene; scarcely a lreath of wind rufllcd

: her favour; and the inauguration of the
king and the regency of Moray were pro-
nounced treasonable acts and usurpations.
Moray was holding a court of justice in
Glasgow when he received tidings of the
queen’s escape. Astonished at the intelli-
gence, he nevertheless prepared calmly to
The keys of the castle were thrown into the
lake, but they were found in 1805, after having
lain concealed since the above memorable event,
near two centuries and a half, and are now at
Kinross House.



94
SCOTS WORTHIES.



meet the threatened dangers. His own
adherents were seized with consternation--
he beheld some of them go over to the
queen,—others betook themselves to private
places. He was advised to proceed to
Stirling, and there fortify himself; but he
rejected the advice; and, after mature
deliberation, determined to remain in Glas-
gow. His usual vigour and prudence did
not forsake him, and his proceedings at
once displayed his resolution.

In the midst of the regent’s active mea- '
sures to discomfit his enemies, and to ani-
mate his followers, he received a message
from Mary, requiring his instant demission
of the regency, and submission to her
authority, with the promise of a full pardon
if he rendered a compliance. He seemed
to hesitate ; he returned no definite answer,
but wished to gain time, as if he would
latterly enter into negotiation. In the mean
time he was busy in collecting troops ; and
when a new message reached him, he was
found determined to dispute the govern-
ment with the queen.
A battle, therefore, was to decide the
hopes of Mary and her brother. The
former wished not, indeed, this last alter—
native; she feared the regent’s military
talents; she knew well that his officers
were all men of distinguished bravery; and
one unfortunate engagement might plunge
her into irretrievable ruin. But the l-Iam-
iltons, who had all joined her standard,
overruled her objections. As her army
was more numerous than the regent’s, they
therefore thought it impossible to be
defeated; and the primate of St Andrews,
calculating on victory, had already in
imagination placed himself at the head of
affairs, and planned a visionary marriage
between the queen and a son of his brother
Chatelherault.
The regent had mustered an army, and
he now prepared with the utmost delibera-
tion to decide his fate. His only hope lay

in an early rencounter. For this purpose
he marched his troops from Glasgow, after
reviewing them on the common called the
Green. Mary began her march on the
13th of May from Hamilton to enter
Dumbarton castle, which the regent had
not been able to wrest out of the hands of
lord Fleming, the governor; but if the
enemy should endeavour to intercept her
march, she resolved not to decline an
engagement. In Mary’s situation, no re-
The
regent came up to her army, and deter-
mined to dispute her progress. Perceiving
solution could be more imprudent.
his enemies to be in motion, when near the
famous village of Langside, about two miles
from Glasgow, although he was farther
distant from it, by a great exertion he was
successful in gaining an eminence which
be perceived them anxious to attain. The
regent, fortunately for himself, secured
the eminence by a body of chosen troops.
The contending armies were very differ-
ent in point of numbers. The queen
mustered 6000 fighting men, with a con~
siderable number of the nobility. Moray’s
army consisted only of 3000, “but formid—
able for his own "iilitary talents, and those
of Morton, Kirkcaldy of Grange, and others,
who had been trained from their youth in
Moray and
Morton, indeed, were known to be the
best generals in Scotland; no one ever
saw Lindsay or Ruthven retreat ; and
Kirkcaldy of Grange was pronounced by the
constable Montmorency the first soldier in
Europe. Such were the leaders, and such
the force against whom the queen had to
contend.
Both armies drew up in the order of
battle, and displayed the royal banners:
they were also severally provided with two
pieces of cannon, which, however, were of
little use. The queen’s troops were ranged
by Argyle in two columns, the main body
under his own command; Arbroath com-
foreign and domestic wars.”



JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
95


manded the van; Cassillis, the right wing ;
lord Claud Hamilton, the left. The regent
followed the same order in the disposition
of his troops; his right wing was command-
ed by Morton, and under him Home,
Lindsay, Lethington, and others ; the left
wing by his relative the earl of Mar.
Glencairn, Monteith, and their followers,
with some harquebussiers, were stationed
in the village, and behind the hedges on
the high road. Kirkcaldy of Grange had
taken possession of the hill on the previous
night.
A rush on the part of the queen’s troops
announced the commencement of the action.
“ For God and the queen,” was resounded
throughout her army; while the regent’s
warriors loudly replied, “ For God and the
king.” The queen’s cavalry put those of
the regent to flight, but in return they were
sorely galled by his archers. Her main body
marched gallantly into the plain, under a
severe fire from the regent’s musketeers,
who were stationed behind the bushes. The
regent hasted to meet the queen’s troops
with his first division, and a desperate
encounter ensued sword in hand. His
soldiers were almost losing ground, when
his second division came to his support.
Kirkcaldy of Grange then decided the fate
of the day; and the battle, which continued
for an hour and a half, ended in a total
lefeat of the queen’s army; who, panic-
struck and sorely pressed by that gallant
soldier, fled from the field in the utmost
consternation. The regent’s victory was
complete. Three hundred of the queen’s
army fell; while he lost only one of his
own men, and none of any distinction were
wounded, except lords Hume and Ochiltree.
He humanely restrained the fury of his
victorious soldiers in the pursuit, by riding
up and down the field, and calling upon
them to spare their countrymen. Many
persons of distinction were made prisoners. I
The regent then returned to Glasgow,.

and there offered public thanks to God for
this happy deliverance from popery and
papists, who had thus threatened to over-
turn the work of reformation in the land.
The unfortunate Mary awaited the issue
of the engagement at a little distance.
With the utmost anguish she beheld the
overthrow of her gallant army; she was
dismayed by the apprehensions of captivity
and death. She could not venture to
Dumbarton, as she might fall into the
regent’s hands by the way. Lord Herries,
a faithfiil adherent, accompanied her in
her flight towards Galloway, and she
rested not till she reached the abbey ot
Dundrennan, near Kircudbright, almost
seventy miles distant from the fatal
field of Langside. Here she resolved, in
a rash and unhappy moment, to retreat to
England.- The primate and lord Herries
on their knees entreated her to give up this
desperate resolution. She was inflexible.
A despatch was sent to Lauder, the deputy-
commander at Carlisle, desiring to know
whether the Scottish queen might venture
on English ground. He answered, that
he could not of his own authority give her
any assurance, but that he would send by
post and know his sovereign’s will; never-
theless, if any danger was evident, he
would receive her at Carlisle with due
respect. Mary seemed as if fatally anxious
to be in the power of her enemy and rival;
the regent was active and indefatigable; a
revolting captivity or certain death awaited
her if she fell into his hands. What more
could Elizabeth inflict? Accordingly,
without waiting for the return of the mes-
senger, she set sail in a fishing—boat with
sixteen attendants, and looked her last
adieu on her native land. She landed at
Wirkington in Cumberland, and, after a
short stay at Cockermouth, was conducted
by Lauder to Carlisle, where she remained
till an answer was returned to her desf atcl
to Elizabeth.


96
SCOTS WORTHIES.






The regent, in the mean time, followed l laws, which in some cases amounted to
up the victory he had gained by the most
active measures. Seven of the prisoners,
one of whom was Hamilton of Bothwell-
haugh, were condemned, and led out to
execution; but the regent spared them, and
ordered them back to prison. He appea'ed
before the castles of Hamilton and Dra-
phane, which surrendered at his summons,
after which he proceeded to Glasgow, and
thence to Edinburgh. Lord Ruthven
compelled the earl of Huntly to retire
northward, though he had advanced as far
as the Tay, with an army of two thousand
men. A proclamation was issued by the
regent, commanding a general muster of
soldiers at Biggar. He set out thither
from Edinburgh, and left the place of
rendezvous at the head of four thousand
horse and one thousand foot. He attacked
the castles of all the nobility, who were
friendly to the queen. He got possession of
Boghall castle, belonging to lord Fleminga
the governor of Dumbarton; he destroyed
the castle of Stirling; and the castle of
Sanquhar, belonging to lord Crichton,
capitulat-ed. Sir John Gordon, the knight
of Lochinvar, refused to surrender his
castle, more especially as he expected
assistance from lord Herries: the regent
was unsuccessful in the attack, but he
destroyed Kenmore, another of Lochinvars
strongholds.
and there executed some freebooters, who
had fallen into his hands. He then made
a successful assault on the castle of Hod-
dam, which belonged to lord Herries; and
that of Annan surrendered at his approach.
Here he had an interview with lord Scroop,
the warden of the English marches.
then marched to Peebles, and thence to
Edinburgh. where he was received with
the loudest congratulations, having estab-
lished complete tranquillity in the southern
and western counties. Nor was Moray
less attentive to the administration of the .
He marched to Dumfries,_

He’
severity.
On the 16th day of August the parlia-
ment assembled, and, after much reasoning,
it was resolved to send commissioners to
England to vindicate their conduct. But
none being willing to undertake the busi-
ness, the regent resolved upon going him-
self; and accordingly chose three gentle-
men, two ministers, two lawyers, together
with the celebrated George Buchanan, to
accompany him; and, with a guard of a
hundred horse, they set out, and arrived at
York, the appointed place of conference,
on the 4th of October. After several
meetings with the English commissioners
to little purpose, Elizabeth invited the
regent to London, that, by personal con-
versation with him, she might be better
satisfied about the state of affairs in Scot-
land. But here the same difficulties stood
in his way as at York; he refused to enter
upon the accusation of his sister, the queen
of Scots, unless, provided she was found
guilty, Elizabeth would engage to protect
the king’s party.
The conferences ended in nothing; less
from want of inclination, than from inability
to prove. It was of the greatest conse-
quence to Moray to preserve the perma-
nence of his power. liad he consented
to her restoratim, or aclmowledged. she was
innocent. he could not but. anticipate the
downfall ofhis PTO—01]illlCllCf‘. On the other
hand, the declaratimi of Mary’s innocence,
or her l‘t‘lt’i-‘tfit‘, would entirely disconcert
Elizabeth’s plans. Her enmity was too
great, not to appear through the mask of
feigned affection an d impartiality. Although
an adept in dissimulation, it was easily
discerned she only wanted a pretext to
And
while she temporized, the bonds of Marv’s
tyrannize over her ill-fated rival.
‘ captivity were rivetting faster and faster.
If the motives of the different parties are
balanced, reasons may be assigned for the



JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY. 97



__-___.
Elizabeth treated with indignity, and hardly,
if ever, recognised by that name. Now,
under the plea of loyalty and regard, all
fly to arms, and associate to ruin the
queen. What could this farce of a trial
end in but nothing‘?
The regent returned to Scotland, and
found the kingdom in tranquillity. Finding
it necessary, however, to take measures
to secure his authority and government
against the designs of his enemies, who, he
knew, were neither few nor of little conse-
quence, he called an assembly of the
nobles at Stirling, and received their sanc-
tion to his proceedings in England. But
his enemies had resolved to commence
their operations, and they were farther
encouraged by the opportune return of the
duke of Chatelherault to Scotland. This
nobleman, who had crossed from France
to England to oppose Moray in the regency,
had been amused by Elizabeth, and actually
detained by her till the regent returned to
Scotland. He then received permission
to leave England; but the English queen
had so contrived, that he did not reach
Scotland till a few weeks after the regent’s '
arrival. He had espoused Mary’s cause,
and had received from her a high military
commission, together with the fantastic
“title of her adopted father.” Prompted
by these vain distinctions, no sooner did
he arrive at Edinburgh than he issued a
proclamation, forbidding the acknowledg-
ment of any other authority than that of
the queen. The regent took the alarm,
and determined to oppose with vigour this
faction, and, if possible, to check it while
he was able. He issued a counter procla-
mation in the name of the king, appointing
Glasgow as a place for a general meeting,
and ordering all loyal subjects to repair to
that city. With his usual expedition, he

conduct of each. The late king was towards the west. Chatelherault was now
despised and detested by his subjects; by l
alarmed; he knew that he was unable to
contend with the regent; the effects of the
battle of Langside were yet apparent in the
west, and had made a visible impression;
and he therefore thought it more expedient
to propose an accommodation, than hazard
another engagement, which might produce
the most fatal consequences to his house.
In this opinion he was farther decided by
his brother, the archbishop of Glasgow;
and the regent was by no means willing
to proceed to extremities, although he had
every advantage on his side. A treaty
was accordingly concluded on the 13th of
March, 1569. Chatelherault promised to
submit to the authority of the king and the
regent; and the latter, on his part, pro-
mised to repeal all acts passed against the
queen’s friends, and to restore them to their
privileges, on condition that they should
submit to the government. Hostages were
given by the duke, and he visited the
young king at Stirling in company with
the regent and lord Herries ; while all the
prisoners taken at the battle of Langside
were set at liberty.
This agreement between the regent and
Chatelherault had been conducted by
lord Herries and Gavin Hamilton, abbot
of Kilwinning, who had just returned from
England. But Huntly and Argyle refused
to be included. A secret correspondence
had been carried on for some time between
the captive queen and her faction ; her
affairs now seemed more promising, and
the successful persecution of the protestants
in France had raised the hopes of the
crest-fallen catholics to such a degree, as
to make them already elated by the antici-
pation of Mary’s restoration and triumph.
These things powerfully influenced Huntly
and Argyle; even on Chatelherault, not-
withstanding his recent engagements, they
I had a visible impression; and he appeared
assembled an army, and directed his march
irresolute, fickle, and wavering, still inclined


98
SCOTS WORTHIES.




to assume the power of the high oflice
conferred on him by Mary, when she
recognised him as her “adopted father.”
But these noblemen were again to learn
another lesson from the regent’s boldness
and vigilance. Knowing well all the
sentiments and contrivances of his enemies,
and distrusting their professions of sincerity,
he determined, by his decision, to crush
the faction while in its state of weakness,
before it gathered strength to trouble the
country by renewed commotions. It had
been agreed at the pacification of Glasgow,
between the regent and Chatelherault,
that, on the tenth day of April (1569), a
convention should be
affairs of the queen, as well as to ratify the
treaty entered into between these two
leaders of their respective factions. It was
easily perceived, at the same time, that the
appearance of friendship was merely super-
ficiaL—that the contending parties still
indulged their animosities and hostilities,—
that their suspicions, instead of being dissi-
pated, were becoming stronger. The
regent had secret intelligence of the corre-
spondence of Huntly and Argyle, and of ‘
Chatelherault’s irresolution. The day of
convention arrived, and the nobles assem-
bled. The regent, who, in virtue of his
office, presided in the assembly, as president
of the convention, rising up, produced a
locument, and formally demanded of the
duke if he would subscribe to the treaty of
his submission. Chatelherault, surprised
at the regent’s address, nevertheless as-
sumed confidence, and, in his reply, said
that he was still willing to observe the
conditions; but he wished to be informed
of the manner in which the affairs of the
queen were to be concluded. His reply
was evidently evasive; for had he been
sincere, he could not have scrupled to
make his written acknowledgment. The
regent’s penetration enabled him at once
to perceive the causes of these scruples;

held to settle the i

l
he saw that if the duke was permitted thus
to break loose from his engagements, no
security would be afforded for his pretended
allegiance. His resolution was equally
bold and adventurous. Setting aside all
considerations of Chatelherault’s rank, as
the nearest heir to the crown, he ordered
_him to be instantly apprehended by his
guards, and, with lord Herries and the
abbot of Kilwinning, he was committed a
prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh. _
This bold and politic conduct completely
annihilated the hopes of the faction.- Ar-
gyle submitted: he applied for a pardon,
and, as he had conducted himself with
considerable moderation, he was only re-
quired to take the oath of allegiance to the
king. Huntly was now left alone; his
conduct demanded a more serious consider-
ation. While the regent was in England,
he had been eminently turbulent, and he
had acted with remarkable ferocity in
various districts, encouraging the devasta-
tions of his retainers, and plundering with-
out exception the adherents of the king.
There were various discussions on his
punishment, which finally ended in his
taking the oath of allegiance to the king
at St Andrews. Having thus defeated
this powerful faction, the regent made a
visit to the northern districts of the kingdom,
and, after making displays of his justice as
well as clemency in various quarters, he
disunited his enemies and strengthened his
own power.
The regent had committed Chatelhe-
rault and lord Herries to prison, as he
imagined that he could not reckon on his
own security while those two zealous
adherents of the queen were at large.
The former being chief of the house of
Hamilton, this act roused the fury of the
whole name.
with these proceedings. Knowing well
that they were the sole rivals of his great-
ness, both on account of their high station

Nor did the regent stop‘


JAMES STUART,
99
EARL OF MORAY.





and their pretensions to the throne, he
determined to crush the Hamiltons at
every hazard; to undermine their influence,
and, if possible, to facilitate their destruc-
tion. The part which they had acted at
the battle of Langside was not forgotten;
and the enmity which Moray and Chatel-
herault mutually entertained towards each
other was undisguised. But from them
the regent would have always remained
secure from personal vengeance. It was
the despair and vengeance of one man
which effected his destruction.
James Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh,
nephew to the archbishop of St Andrews,
was the person who committed this detest-
able deed. He had been condemned to
death, with six other gentlemen of distinc-
tion, two of them of his own name, the
barons of lnnerwick and Kincavil, and,
with them, had been led out to execution
for his share in the battle of Langside;
but, at the intercession of the reformed
clergy, the regent spared their lives, and
ordered them all back to prison. This
gentleman was a cadet of the ducal house
of Chatelherault; his father, the first of his
family, being David Hamilton, the fifth
son of John Hamilton of Orbiston. His
estate was situated in the parish of Both-
well, and county of Lanark, whence he had
his designation. He had married Isabella
Sinclair, daughter and co-heiress of John
Sinclair of \Voodhouselee, in Mid Lothian,
and this lady was the innocent cause of
the unfortunate catastrophe.
Hamilton had contrived to make his
escape from prison ; but, as the act of for-
feiture for his concern in the battle of
Langside remained in full force against
him, he was compelled to lurk among his
friends. lVhether the regent had any
particular hatred towards him cannot be
ascertained; yet certain it is, that the act
of forfeiture was removed from all the gentlemen taken prisoners in that affair,

Bothwellhaugh excepted. After the confis-
cation of Hamiltons estate, his wife, who
had remained there during her vhusband’s
absence, never imagining that her own
inheritance was to be also doomed to the
same calamity, proceeded to \Voodhouselee,
thinking that on her own patrimony she
would with security await the issue of more
prosperous times.
But in this she was mistaken. Sir James
Bellenden, lord justice-clerk, one of the
favourites of the regent, had asked and
obtained most unjustly the estate of VVood-
houselee. As Bellenden knew that Ha.-
milton’s lady resided on the property, he
applied to the regent for an act of posses-
sion; and accordingly some officers were
sent to ‘\Voodhouselee, who secured the
house, and barbarously turned the unfor-
tunate lady, in a cold and stormy night,
and in a state of ill health, naked into the
fields. Before the morning dawn, she was
furiously deranged. Whether the officers
exceeded their commission we cannot say ;
certain it is, however, that this horrid and
inhuman conduct was allowed to pass by
the regent without any censure. The pro-
ceedings of those villains, the enormity of
the latter provocation, in thus savagely
destroying the wife of his bosom, in addi-
tion to the injuries he had already borne,
completely overcame Hamilton’s prudence,
and from that moment he resolved to
avenge his wrongs, not on the despicable
villains who had thus so barbarously sport-
ed with his feelings, but on the regent
himself, whom he believed to be the grand
author of this injustice. Nor did be con-
ceal his intentions. He openly avowed,
wherever he went, that he would endeavour
to effect Moray’s destruction, and he accord-
ingly watched his enemy’s motions for some
time; but he was invariably disappointed in
, h1s daring purposes.
At length, unfortunately, an opportunity
‘offered, which Hamilton determined to


SCOTS WORTH I ES.



improve. The regent had been at Stirling,
and was on his way to the metropolis. He
had to pass through Linlithgow, a town
venerable and sacred in Scottish story.
This town Hamilton chose as the fittest
place to gratify his revenge. With the
utmost deliberation, he prepared for the
accomplishment of the assassination: the
wrongs he had sustained; above all, the
recollection of the wife of his bosom whom
he tenderly loved, preyed on the mind of
the rash and unhappy man, and excited the
most frenzied enthusiasm. He believed,
too, that he was doing his country a meri-
torious service in freeing it from the
government of one whom he reckoned its
greatest oppressor. Many of his friends of
the name of Hamilton aided him in the
horrid and detestable enterprise. The
town of Linlithgow, delightfully situated
in a valley, and surrounded on all sides by
rising grounds, consisted then, as it does
still, of one long continued street, being
terminated by the magnificent palace and
the ancient church. In this street ahouse
was selected by Hamilton, about the middle
of the town, for the accomplishment of his
revenge. As there is a number of entries,
or passages, (called in Scotland closes,)
which have an open outlet from the prin
cipal street of the town to the fields, there
is a tradition, that, on the night before the
assassination, these were all choked up
with a thorny bush, abounding on the
Scottish high grounds, called whins,——a
bush full of prickles, and annoying in the
greatest degree to those who come in con-
tact with them. This tradition, if not true,
is at least plausible; for, as Hamilton well
knew that there would be an immediate
pursuit, it was his interest to present as
many obstacles as possible; and this trifling
one, by his pursuers rushing through the
narrow entries, and finding themselves
suddenly plunged among the whins and
bramble-bushes, might contribute to his
safety by causing a small delay. He then
took his station in a wooden gallery front-
ing the street ; and that he might the more
securely accomplish his purpose, without
exciting suspicion or notice while in the
act, he first spread on the floor of the room
a large feather-bed, that the noise of his
feet in his movement might not be heard;
and he hung up a large black cloth opposite
the window, that none without might
observe his shadow. “ His next care,” says
an author, who graphically describes this
scene, “ was to cut a hole alittle below the
lattice, sufficient to admit the point of his
harquebuss; and to add to the security of
his flight, he examined the gate at the back
of the house, and finding it too low for a
man to pass under on horseback, with the
l
assistance of his servant he removed the
lintel, and kept his horse in the stable
ready saddled and bridled. After all these
preparations he calmly and deliberately
awaited the approach of the regent, who
had slept the preceding night in the
town.”
On the 23d day of January, 1570, was
the foul deed committed. The threats of
this desperate man, however, had been told
to the regent: on this very day he got
certain information both of the person,
and the place where he was concealed; and
Hamilton was almost disappointed in his
aim, but unfortunately the regent’s hour was
come. Moray was remarkable for personal
courage; but though he despised Hamilton,
he did not think proper to disregard the
warning of his danger. He had accord-
ingly resolved to proceed to Edinburgh on
the road which skirts the outside of the
town, instead of taking the street; but.
after mounting his horse, and perceiving
the gate through which he meant to pass
blockaded by a vast crowd, he turned the
other way, through the principal street.
Being built according to the fashion of the
age, it was exceedingly narrow; and as he




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JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
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rode along with his guards and attendants,
the crowd increased so much, or a number
of carts were purposely overturned, that it
was with the greatest difficulty he proceed-
ed, and he was compelled to move with
the utmost tardiness. As be advanced,
the pressure increased, and unfortunately
he was compelled to make a halt opposite
the very house in which his intended
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assassin was concealed. Hamilton was on
the alert; immediately be seized his musket;
and, trembling with fury, at the same time
rejoicing that his revenge was on the point
of being gratified, he took a marked and
deliberate aim at the unfortunate nobleman.
He pointed towards his belt, and, dis-
charging the musketf“ with a. single bullet
he shot the regent through the lower part

[Assassination of the Earl of Moray.)
of the belly. The ball passed through him I and plunged it into his steed behind
below the navel, and killed the horse of
George Douglas, who rode on his right side.
The assassin instantly fled. He was
pursued for several miles, and was at one
time on the point of being taken: his
horse was breathless, and almost ready
to sink,——whip and spur had no effect:
and coming to a broad ditch, his progress
was impeded. A few moments’ delay
would have placed Hamilton in the
hands of justice; but he drew his dagger.

The horse, by a desperate exertion,
leaped across the ditch. The assassin
thus escaped. He fled first to Hamilton,
and then sought shelter with his brother-
in-law, Muirhead of ~Lauchope, who hos-
pitably received him, and protected him
for the night. The following day he was
accompanied a part of his way by this
s The musket is still to be seen in Hamilton
palace, it having been presented to the duke by a
cadet of the family.



102
SCOTS WORTHIES.


.______ ._._ _. _

relative; and after a. brief concealment l evil of anv man, he expired a. little before
about the town of Hamilton, he effected
his final escape to France, where he died
some years afterwards, expressing great
eontrition for the execrable crime he had 1
committed.
Nothing could exceed the’consternation
of the multitude at Linlithgow, when the
fatal shot was fired with such a well—
directed aim. A cry of horror and lamen-
tation burst from the crowd and the regent’s
attendants; the call of “ To ctrmsfwas
sounded, and they rushed forward to the
place from whence the ball had been aimed.
All was confusion, dismay, and sorrow; for
Moray had secured the affections of the
nation. The regent, in the mean time,
told his attendants that he was wounded;
but recovering from the sudden surprise,

he dismounted, and demanded to be led to 1
He revived so far as to be
able to walk thither, and the medical
his lodgings.
attendants were quickly summoned, while
the multitude and the inhabitants of the
town expressed their sorrow by their
lamentations and tears. At first it was
thought that the wound was not mortal;
but towards evening the pain increased,
and the unfortunate nobleman began to
prepare himself for death. 4 ‘With all the
calmness of a hero, a philosopher, and a
christian, he discoursed to those around
him, and began to settle his affairs. When
he was told by his friends that he had
ruined himself by his clemency, having
once spared the life of the assassin, which
he might just-1y have taken, he replied
with great composure and magnanimity,
“ Your importunities and reflections do not
make me repent of my clemency.” His
latter end was becoming a christian and a
great man. After he had arranged all his
family concerns, he felt the pains of disso-
lution overtake him. He recommended
the young king to the care of the nobles
who were present; and, without speaking
midnight, on the 23d day of January, 15 70,
in the thirty-eighth year of his age.
Thus fell the earl of Moray, after he
had escaped so many dangers. He was
certainly an able governor, and an estima-
ble man. Both Buchanan and Spottis-
wood, though they diifer in many things,
have given him the highest character
“ His death,” says Buchanan, “ was lament-
ed by all good men, who loved him as the
common father of his country: even his
enemies confessed his merit when dead.
They admired his valour in war, his ready
disposition for peace, his activity in busi-
ness, in which he was commonly very
successful: the Divine favour seemed to
shine on all his actions; he was merciful
to offenders, and equitable in all his deci-
sions. “Then the field did not call for his
presence, he was busied in the administra-
' tion of justice ; by which means the poor

were not oppressed, and the terms of law_
suits were shortened. His house was like
a holy temple: after meals he caused a
chapter of the Bible to be read, and asked
the opinions of such learned men as were
present, upon it; not out of vain curiosity,
but fi'om a desire to learn, and reduce to
practice what it contained.” In a word,
he was, both in his public and private life,
a pattern worthy of imitation; and happy
would it be for us, that our nobles were
more disposed to walk in the paths in
for, “ above all his virtues,”

which he trode:
says Spottiswood, “ which were not a. few,
he shone in piety towards God, ordering
himself and his family in such a way, as
did more resemble a church than a court;
for therein, besides the exercise of devotion,
which he never omitted, there was no
wickedness to be seen; nay, not an un-
seemly or wanton word to be heard. He
was a man truly good, and worthy to be
ranked among the best governors that this
kingdom hath enjoyed, and therefore to






JAMES STUART, EARL OF MORAY.
103



this day is honoured with the title of the I revenue, and a person
Goon REGENT.” {
Nothing could exceed the dismay and
surprise when the news of the regent’s‘
assassination reached Edinburgh. The l
gates of the city were closed, and the senti-
nels doubled on every post. His body was
brought to the capital, amid the tears and
the groans of the people. His many virtues, T
his vigorous administration, his talents, l
were all recollected with regret. Elizabeth ,
lamented his loss as that of a faithful friend;
the reformed clergy were in sorrow and
despondency, pronouncing panegyrics on
his public and private life. He was in-
terred in the cathedral of St Giles, and his
tomb is yet to be seen in that part of the
cathedral called the old church. The
monument is plain, yet not wanting in
It is on the east side of the
decoration.
massive pillar, at the north end of which is
the pulpit. Under this monument are the
bones of the regent Moray.
When the news of the regent’s death
reached Mary’s prison, the tenderness of
her nature overcame her, and she wept at
the fate of a brother. According to her
belief, he was a heretic, and she shed
tears of sorrow and anguish that he had
died impenitent, unconfessed, unforgiven.
She heard the account of his fate with a
bursting heart, and exclaimed, “ \Vould
that he had not died, till he had repented
of his crimes towards his God, his country,
and me.”
Various are the characters given of him
by historians, according to the factions to
which they adhered. Possessed of the
most splendid talents,

with an ample,

uncommonly at-
tractive, he despised the life of an ecclesi-
astic, and at an early age appeared on
the arena of public affairs. His mind was
naturally restless and active, and the period
in which he lived afforded him opportunities
to display his abilities. Zeal for religion
and liberty were among his early charac-
He was equally brave, resolute,
and sagacious ; fitted either for the cabinet
or the camp; at once a diplomatist, a
statesman, and a warrior. Though sur-
rounded by difficulties, he was never over-
come: he could rise superior to them all;
in adversity and prosperity, when either
the exile or the favourite, he flourished:
his profound penetration enabled him to
foresee dangers, his prudence to prepare
for them, and his fortitude to surmount
them. His intrepidity, military skill, and
vigour in the government are not denied
even by his enemies; and he is acknow-
ledged to have been among the greatest
captains and statesmen of his age.
\Vithout doubt, therefore, the regent
Moray was a great and a good man. He
has the glory of achieving and establishing
the reformation of religion; and it has
afforded him a fame brilliant and lasting.
And whether we view him as at the head
of the government in those times of tur-
bulence, faction, and strife, or impartial
in the dispensing of ustice, restraining and
teristics.
repressing the wandering incursions of free-
booters, and establishing universal peace
and order over the country—we shall find
that the Good Regent is the name by
which he deserves to be long and affection-
ately remembered among the people.





lU-l
SCOTS WORTlll ES.




_.___-‘___, \__,_ J? __.._...,__b_>_i .. _ i_.._ _.
JOHN



K N t) X.

.TOIIY Kxox was born in the year 1505.
The place of his nativity has been disputed.
The most prevailing opinion is, that he
was born at Gifford, a village in East
Lothian; while the tradition of the country
fixes his birth at Haddington, the principal
town of the county.
The name of his mother was Sinclair.
His father was descended from an ancient ,
and respectable family, who possessed the ‘
lands of Knock, Ranferly, and Craigends,
in the shire of Renfrew. The descendants
of this family have been accustomed to '
claim him as a cadet, and to enumerate
among the honours of their house, its
giving birth to the Scottish reformer, a
bishop of Raphoe, and of the Isles. At
what period his ancestors removed from
their original seat and settled in Lothian,
has. not been exactly ascertained.
Some writers have asserted that our re-
former’s parents were poor ; but this cannot
be strictly true; for they were able to give
their son a liberal education, which, in that
age, was far from being common. In his
youth he was put to the grammar-school
of Haddington; and, after acquiring the
principles of the Latin tongue there, was
sent, by his father, to the university of St
Andrews, at that time the most celebrated
seminary in the kingdom. This was about
the year 1524; at which time George
Buchanan commenced his studies, under ‘
the same masters, and in the same college
of St Salvador.
ere he had an opportunity of studying
the Aristotelian philosophy, scholastic the-
, ology, with canon and civil law, the prin-
l cipal branches cultivated in our universities.
The Latin tongue was universally known
among the learned at that time, but not so
the Greek.
Knox acquired the latter language before
he reached middle age; but we find him
acknowledging, as late as the year 1550,
that he was ignorant of Hebrew, a defect
‘ in his education which he exceedingly
lamented, but which he afterwards got
supplied during his exile on the continent.
He studied under John Mair, or Major,

to whom we have referred in our life of
Patrick Hamilton. This famous preceptor
taught that the authority of kings and
princes was originally derived from the
people; that the former are not superior
to the latter collectively considered ; thati
rulers become tyrannical, or employ their
power for the destruction of their subjects,
they may lawfully be controlled by them,
and, proving incorrigible, may be deposed
by the community as the superior power;
and that tyrants may he judicially proceed-
ed against, even to capital punishment.
And as these opinions bear an affinity to
the political principles afterwards avowed
by Knox, the influence of the teacher is
seen on the mind of the pupil.
Knox soon became disgusted with mere
scholastic learning, and began to seek

1 entertainment more gratifying to his ardent


JOHN KNOX.
105



and inquisitive mind.
search of knowledge, as is the case with
giant minds, he released himself from the
trammels, and overleaped the boundaries,
prescribed to him by his conductor. He
followed the bent of his own mind, and,
passing through the avenues of secular
learning, devoted himself to the study of
divine truth, and the labours of the sacred
ministry.
But we must. not suppose, that Knox
was able at once to divest himself of the
prejudices of his education and of the times.
Barren and repulsive as the scholastic
studies appear to our minds, there was
something in the intricate and subtle so-
phistry then in vogue, calculated to fascinate
the youthful and ingenious mind. It had
a show of wisdom; it exercised, although
it did not feed the understanding; iteven
gave play to the imagination, while it
exceedingly flattered the pride of the adept.
Nor was it easy for the person who had
suffered himself to be drawn in, to break
through or extricate himself from the ma-zy
labyrinth. Accordingly, Knox continued
for some time captivated with these studies,
and prosecuted them with great success.
After he was created master of arts, he
taught philosophy, most probably as an
assistant, or private lecturer in the univer—
sity. His class became celebrated; and he
was considered as equalling, if not excelling,
his master, in the subtleties of the dialectic
art. About the same time, he was advanced
to clerical orders, and ordained a priest,
before he had reached the age fixed by the
canons of the church; although he had no
other interest, except what was procured
by his own merit, or the recommendations
of his teachers. This must have taken place
previous to the year 1530, at which time
he was twenty-five years of age.
Having set out in


I
merits, and had an important influence on the
whole of his future life. Not satisfied with
the excerpts from ancient authors, which
he found in the writings of the scholastic
divines and canonists, he resolved to have
recourse to the original works. In them
he found a method of investigating and
communicating truth to which he had
hitherto been a stranger; the simplicity of
which recommended itself to his mind, in
spite of the prejudices of education, and
the pride of superior attainments in his own
favourite art. Among the fathers of the
‘christian church, Jerome and Augustine
attracted his particular attention. By the
writings of the former, he was led to the
scriptures as the only pure fountain of
divine truth, and instructed in the utility
of studying them in the original languages.
In the works of the latter, he found reli-
gious sentiments very opposite to those
taught in the Romish church, who, while
she retained his name as a saint in her
calendar, had banished his doctrine as
heretical, from 'her pulpits. From this
time he renounced the study of scholastic
theology; and, although not yet completely
emancipated from superstition, his mind
was fitted for improving the means which
Providence had prepared, for leading him
to a fuller and more comprehensive view
of the system of evangelical religion. It
was about the year 1535, when this favour-
able change of his sentiments commenced;
but, until 1542, it does not appear that he
professed himself a protestant.
His change of views first discovered
itself in his philosophical lectures, in which
he began to forsake the scholastic path,
and to recommend to his pupils a more
rational and useful method of study. Even
this innovation excited against him violent
. suspicions of heresy, which were confirmed,
It was not long, however, till his studies .
received a new direction, which led to a . was impossible for him, after this, to remain
complete revolution in his religious senti-
when he proceeded to reprehend the cor-
ruptions which prevailed in the church. It
(J
106
SCOTS WORTHIES.


in safety at St Andrews, which was‘ wholly
under the power of cardinal Beaton, the
most determined supporter of the Romish
church, and enemy of all reform. He left
that place, and retired to the south, where,
within a short time, he avowed his full
belief of the protestant doctrine. Provoked
by his defection, and alarmed lest he should
draw others after him, the clergy were
anxious to rid themselves of such an adver-
sary. Having passed sentence against him
as a heretic, and degraded him from the
priesthood, says Beza, the cardinal em-
ployed assassins to way-lay him, by whose
hands he must have fallen, had not Provi-
dence placed him under the protection of
the laird of Longniddrie.
Thomas Guillaume, or Williams, was
very useful to Knox, in leading him to a
more perfect acquaintance with the truth.
He was afriar of eminence, and along with
John Rough, acted as chaplain to the earl
of Arran, during the short time that he
favoured the reformation, at the beginning
of his regency, by whom he was employed
in preaching in different parts of the king-
dom. But the person to whom our re-
former was most indebted, was - George
Wishart.
Having relinquished all thoughts of
officiating in that church, which had in-
vested him with clerical orders, Knox had
entered as tutor into the family of Hugh
Douglas of Longniddrie, a gentleman in
East Lothian, who had embraced the re-
formed doctrines. John Cockburn of
Ormiston, a neighbouring gentleman of the
same persuasion, also put his son under his
tuition. These young men were instructed
by him in the principles of religion, as well
as of the learned languages. He managed
their religious instruction in such a way as
to allow the rest of the family, and the
people of the neighbourhood to reap advan-
tage from it. He catechized them publicly
in a chapel at Longniddrie, in which he
i

. also read to them, at stated times, a chapter
of the Bible, accompanied with explanatory
remarks. The memory of this has been
preserved by tradition, and the chapel, the
ruins of which are still apparent, is popu-
larly called John Knox’s kirk.
It was not to be expected, that he would
long he suffered to continue this employ-
ment, under a government which was now
entirely at the devotion of cardinal Beaton,
who had gained over to his measures the
timid and irresolute regent, Arran. But in
the midst of his cruelties, and while he was
planning still more desperate deeds, the
cardinal was himself suddenly cut off.*
His death did not, however, free Knox
from persecution. John Hamilton, an
illegitimate brother of the regent, who was
nominated to the vacant bishopric, sought
his life with as great eagerness as his pre-
decessor. He was obliged to conceal him-
self, and to remove from place to place, to
provide for his safety. Wearied with this
mode of living, and apprehensive that he
would one day fall into the hands of his
enemies, he came to the resolution of
leaving Scotland. He had no desire to go
to England; because, although“ the pope’s
name was suppressed” in that kingdom,
“ his laws and corruptions remained in full
vigour.” His determination was to visit
Germany, and prosecute his studies in some
of the protestant universities, until he should
see a favourable change in thestate of his
native country. The lairds of Longniddrie
and Ormiston were extremely reluctant to
part with him, and, by their importunities,
prevailed with him to take refuge, along
with their sons, in the castle of St Andrews,
which continued to be held by the con-
spirators.
Knox entered the castle of St Andrews,
at the time of Easter, 1547, and conducted
the education of his pupils after his accus-
* See our Life of Wishart, p. 57.


JOHN
KNOX.

, these exercises.

tomed manner. In the chapel within the
castle, he read to them his lectures on the
Scriptures, beginning at the place in the
Gospel according to John, where he had
left off at Longniddrie. He catechized
them in the parish church belonging to the
A number of persons attended both
Among those who had
taken refuge in the castle (though not
engaged in the conspiracy against the
cardinal) were John Rough, who, since
his dismissal by the regent, had lurked in
Kyle; Sir David Lindsay of the Mount;
and Henry Belnaves of Halhill. These
persons were so much pleased with Knox’s
doctrine and mode of teaching, that they
urged him to preach publicly to the people,
and to become colleague to Rough, who
acted as chaplain to the garrison. But he
resisted all their solicitations, assigning as
a reason, that he did not consider himself
as having a call to this employment, and
would not be guilty of intrusion. They
did not, however, desist from their purpose ;
but, having consulted with their brethren,
came to a resolution, without his know-
ledge, that a call should be publicly given
him, in the name of the whole, to become
one of their ministers.
Accordingly, on a day fixed for the
purpose, Rough preached a sermon on the
election of ministers, in which he declared
the power which a congregation, however
small, had over any one in whom they per-
ceived gifts suited to the office, and how
dangerous it was for such a person to reject
the call of those who desired instruction.
Sermon being ended, the preacher turned
to Knox, who was present, and addressed
him in these words: “Brother, you shall
not be offended, although I speak unto
you that which I have in charge, even from
all those that are here present, which is
this: In the name of God, and of his Son
city.
Jesus Christ, and in the name of all that I

you that you refuse not this holy vocation;
but as you tender the glory of God, the
increase of Christ’s kingdom, the edification
of your brethren, and the comfort of me,
whom you understand well enough to be
oppressed by the multitude of labours, that
you take upon you the public office and
charge of preaching, even as you look to
avoid God’s heavy displeasure, and desire
that he shall multiply his graces unto you.”
Then, addressing himself to the congrega-
tion, he said, “ Was not this your charge
unto me? and do ye not approve this
vocation “.3” They all answered, “ It was ;
and we approve it.” Abashed and over-
whelmed by this unexpected and solemn
charge, Knox was unable to speak; but
bursting into tears, retired from the assem-
bly, and shut himself up in his chamber.
“ His countenance and behaviour from that
day, till the day that he was compelled to
present himself in the public place of
preaching, did sufficiently declare the grief
and trouble of his heart; for no man saw
any sign of mirth about him, neither had
he pleasure to accompany any man for
many days together.”
His distress of mind on the present
occasion proceeded from a higher source
than the deficiency of some external for-
malities in his call. He had no very
different thoughts as to the importance of
the ministerial office, from what he had
entertained when ceremoniously invested
with orders. The care of immortal souls,
of whom he must give an account to the
Chief Bishop; the charge of declaring
“ the whole counsel of God, keeping nothing
back,” however ungrateful to his hearers,
and of “preaching in season and out of
season ;” the manner of life, afflictions,
persecutions, imprisonment, exile, and vio—
lent death, to which the preachers of the
protestant doctrine were exposed; the
hazard of his sinking under these hard-
presently call you by my mouth, I charge j ships, and “ making shipwreck of faith and


108
SCOTS WORTHIES.



” these, with similar
considerations, rushed into his mind, and
filled it with agitation and grief. At length,
satisfied that he had the call of God to
engage in this work, he composed his mind
to a reliance on Him who had engaged to
make his “strength perfect in the weak-
ness” of his servants, and resolved, with the
apostle, “ not to count his life dear, that he
might finish with joy the ministry which
he received of the Lord, to testify the gospel
of the grace of God.” Often did he after-
wards reflect with lively emotion upon this
very interesting step of his life, and never,
in the midst of his greatest sufferings, did
he see reason to repent the choice which
he had so deliberately made.
His labours were so successful during
the few months that he preached at St
Andrews, that, besides those in the castle,
a great number of the inhabitants of the
town renounced popery, and made profes-
sion of the protestant faith, by participating
of the Lord’s supper, which he administer-
ed to them in the manner afterwards
practised in the reformed church of Scot-
land. The gratification which he felt in
these first-fruits of his ministry, was in
a good conscience ;
some degree abated by instances of vicious ‘
conduct in those under his charge, some of
whom were guilty of these acts of licen-
tiousness too common among soldiery
placed in similar circumstances. From
the time that he was chosen to be their
preacher, he openly rebuked these disor-
ders, and when he perceived that his
admonition failed in putting a stop to them,
he did not conceal his apprehensions of
the issue of the enterprise in which they
were engaged. ‘
In the end of June, 1547, a French
fleet, with a considerable body of land
forces, under the command of Leo Strozzi,
appeared before St Andrews, to assist the
governor in the reduction of the castle. It
F
I

being disappointed of the expected aid from
England, the besieged, after a brave and
vigorous resistance, were under the neces-
sity of capitulating to the French com-
mander on the last day of July. The
terms of the capitulation were honourable;
the lives of all that were in the castle were
to be spared; they were to be transported
to France, and if they did not choose to
enter into the service of the French king,
were to be conveyed to any other country
which they might prefer, except Scotland.
John Rough had left the castle previous
to the commencement of the siege, and had
retired to England. Knox, although he
did not expect that the garrison would be
able to hold out, could not prevail upon
himself to desert his charge, and resolved
to share with his brethren the hazard of
the siege. He was conveyed along with
the rest on board the fleet, which, in a few
days, set sail for France, arrived at F ecamp,
and, going up the Seine, anchored before
Rouen. The capitulation was violated,
and they were all detained prisoners of
war, at the solicitation of the pope and
the Scottish clergy. The principal gentle-
men were incarcerated in Rouen, Cher-burg,
Brest, and Mount St Michael. Knox, with
some others, was confined on board the
galleys, bound with chains, and treated
with all the indignities offered to heretics,
in addition to the rigours of ordinary
captivity.
From Rouen they sailed to Nantes, and
lay upon the Loire during the following
Solicitations, threatenings, and
violence, were employed to make the pri-
soners recant their religion, and counte-
nance the popish worship; but so great
was their abhorrence of its idolatry, that
not a single individual of the whole com~~
pany, on land or water, could be induced
to symbolize in the smallest degree. \Vhile
the prison-ships lay on the Loire, mass was
winter.
was invested both by sea and land; and frequently said, and Salve Regina sung


JOHN KNOX.
109


on board, or on the shore within their‘
l‘iearing: on these occasions they were‘
brought out and threatened with torture,
if they did not give the usual signs of reve-
rence; but instead of complying, they
covered their heads as soon as the service
began. Knox has related a humorous
incident which took place on one of these
occasions; and although he has not named
the person concerned in it, most probably
it was himself. One day a fine painted
image of the Virgin was brought into one
of the galleys, and presented to a Scots
prisoner to kiss. He desired the bearer
not to trouble him, for such idols were
accurscd, and he would not touch it. The
officers roughly replied, that he should,
put it to his face, and thrust it into his
hands. Upon this he took hold of the
image, and watching his opportunity, threw


was seized with a fever. during which his
life was despaired of by all in the ship.
But even in this state, his fortitude of
mind remained unsubdued, and he com--
forted his fellow-prisoners with hopes of
release. To their anxious desponding
inquiries (natural to men in their situation,)
“ if he thought they would ever obtain their
liberty,” his uniform answer was, “God
will deliver us to his glory, even in this
life.” While they lay on the coast between
Dundee and St Andrews, Mr (afterwards
Sir) James Balfour, who was confined in
the same ship, desired him to look to the
land, and see if he knew it. Though at
that time very sick, he replied, “ Yes, I
know it well ; for I see the steeple of that
place where God first opened my mouth in
public to his glory; and I am fully per-
suaded, how weak soever I now appear,
that I shall not depart this life, till that
my tongue shall glorify his godly name in
the same place.” This striking reply Sir
James repeated, in the presence of many
witnesses, a number of years before Knox
returned to Scotland, and when there was
very little prospect of his words being
verified.
We must not, however, think that he
possessed this elevation and tranquillity of
_.' mind, during the whole time of his impri-
is:
in" ~ - -\*-s‘.“§ae'-i=:ss..
.i‘-_-—- \-x-__
I» __-


it into the river, saying, “ Lat our Ladle
now save herself : sche is lycht anoughe,
lat hir leirne to swime.” After this they
were no more troubled in that way.
The gallcys returned to Scotland in
summer 1548, as nearly as we can ascertain,
and continued for a considerable time on
the east coast, to watch for English Knox’s health was now greatly impaired


by the severity of his confinement, and he
sonment. \Vhen first thrown into cruel
bonds, insulted by his enemies, and without
any apparent prospect of release, he was
not a stranger to the anguish of despond-
cncy, so pathetically described by the royal
Psalmist of Israel. He felt that conflict
| . . . . . .
in his spirit, with which all good men are
acquainted; and which becomes peculiarly
sharp when joined with corporal affection.
But, having had recourse to prayer, the
never-failing refuge of the oppressed, he
was relieved from all his fears; and, rcposing
upon the promise and prm'idence of the
God whom he served, attained to “ the
confidence and rejoicing of hope."



SCOTS WORTHIES.



When free from fever, he relieved the
tedium of captivity by committing to writing
a confession of his faith, containing the
substance of what he had taught at St
Andrews, with a particular account of the
disputation which he had maintained in St
Leonard’s Yards. This he found means
to convey to his religious acquaintances in
Scotland, accompanied with an earnest
exhortation to persevere in the faith which
they had professed, whatever persecutions
they might suffer for its sake. To this
confession he afterwards refers, in the
defence of his doctrine before the bishop of
Durham. “ Let no man think, that because
I am in the realm of England, therefore so
boldly I speak. No, God hath taken that
suspicion fi'om me. For the body lying in
most painful bands in the midst of cruel
tyrants, his mercy and goodness provided
that the hand should write and bear witness
to the confession of the heart, more abun-
dantly than ever yet the tongue spake.”
Notwithstanding the rigour of their con-
finement, the prisoners, who were separated,
found opportunities of occasionally corre-
sponding with one another. Henry Bal-
naves of Halhill composed in his prison a
Treatise on Justification, and the Works
and Conversation of a J ustified Man. This
being conveyed to Knox, probably after
his second return in the galleys from Scot-
land, he was so much pleased with it, that
he divided it into chapters, added some
marginal notes, and a concise epitome of
its contents; to the whole he prefixed a
recommendatory dedication, intending that
it should be published for the use of their
brethren in Scotland, as soon as an oppor-
tunity offered. The reader will not, we
are persuaded, be displeased to breathe a
little the spirit which animated this un-
daunted confessor, when “ his feet lay fast
in irons,” as expressed by him in this
dedication ; from which we shall quote
more freely, as the book is rare.

It is thus described ; “ John Knox, the
bound servant of Jesus Christ, unto his
best beloved brethren of the congregation
of the castle of St Andrews, and to all
professors of Christ’s true evangel,, desireth
grace, mercy, and peace, from God the
Father, with perpetual consolation of the
Holy Spirit.” After mentioning a number
of instances in which the name of God was
magnified, and the interests of religion
advanced, by the exile of those who were
driven from their native countries by
tyranny, as in the examples of Joseph,
Moses, Daniel, and the primitive chris-
tians, he goes on thus: “Which thing
shall openly declare this godly work subse~
quent. The counsel of Satan in the per-
secution of us, first, was to stop the whole
some wind of Christ’s evangel to blow
upon the parts where we converse and
dwell ; and secondly, so to oppress ourselves
by corporal affliction and worldly calamities,
that no place should we find to godly
study. But by the great mercy and in-
finite goodness of God our Father shall
these his counsels be frustrate and vain.
For, in despite of him and all his wicked
members, shall yet that same word (O
Lord! this I speak, confiding in thy holy
promise,) openly be proclaimed in that
same country. And now that our merciful
Father, amongst these tempestuous storms,
by all men’s expectation, hath provided
some rest for us, this present work shall
testify, which was sent to me in Roane,
lying in irons, and sore troubled by corporal
infirmity, in a galley named Notre Dame,
by an honourable brother, Mr Henry Ba]-
naves of Halhill, for the present holden as
prisoner (though unjustly), in the old palace
of Boane; Which work after I had once
again read to the great comfort and conso-
lation of my spirit, by counsel and advice
of the foresaid noble and faithful man,
author of the said work, I thought expe-
dient it should be digested in chapters, (to


JOHN KNOX.
111


Which thing I have done as imbecility of
ingine [i. e. genius or wit] and incommodity
of place would permit; not so much to
illustrate the work (which in the self is
godly and perfect) as, together with the
foresaid nobleman and faithful brother, to
give my confession of the article of justifi-
cation therein contained. And I beseech
you, beloved brethren, earnestly to consider,
if we deny anything presently, (or yet con“
ceal and hide,) which any time before we
professed in that article. And now we
have not the castle of St Andrews to be
our defence, as some of our enemies falsely
accused us, saying, If we wanted our walls,
we would not speak so boldly—But blessed
be that Lord whose infinite goodness and
wisdom hath taken from us the occasion of
that slander, and hath shown unto us, that
the serpent hath power only to sting the
heel, that is, to molest and trouble the
flesh, but not to move the spirit, from con-
stant adhering to Christ Jesus, nor public
professing of his true word. O blessed be
thou, Eternal Father, which, by thy only
mercy, hast preserved us to this day, and
provided that the confession of our faith
(which ever we desired all men to have
known), should, by this treatise, come plainly
to light. Continue, O Lord, and grant
unto us, that as now with pen and ink, so
shortly we may confess with voice and
tongue the same before thy congregation;
upon whom look, O Lord God, with the
eyes of thy mercy, and suffer no more
darkness to prevail. I pray you, pardon
me, beloved brethren, that on this manner,
Idigress; vehemence of spirit (the Lord )
knoweth I lie not,) compelleth me thereto.”
The prisoners in Mount St Michael
consulted Knox, to the lawfulness of ,
l

attempting to escape by breaking their
prison, which was opposed by some of their
number, lest their escape should subject
their brethren who remained in confine-1
ment to more severe treatment. He re-
l
turned for answer, that such fears were
not a suflicient reason for relinquishing
the design, and that they might, with a
safe conscience, effect their escape, provided
it could be done “ without the blood of any
shed or spilt; but to shed any man’s blood
for their freedom, he would never consent.”
The attempt was accordingly made by
them, and successfully executed, “without
harm done to the person of any, and with-
out touching anything that appertained to
the king, the captain, or the house.”
At length, after enduring a tedious and
severe imprisonment of nineteen months,
Knox obtained his liberty. This happened
in the month of February, 1549, according
to the modern computation. By what
means his liberation was procured, we
cannot certainly determine. One account
says, that the galley in which he was con-
fined, was taken in the Channel by the
English. According to another account,
he was liberated by order of the king of
France ; because it appeared, on examina-
tion, that he was not concerned in the
murder of the cardinal, nor accessory to
other crimes committed by those who held
the castle of St Andrews. Others say,
that his acquaintances purchased his liberty,
induced by the hopes which they cherished
of great things to be accomplished by him.
It is not improbable, however, that he
owed his liberty to the circumstance of the
French court having now accomplished
‘ their great object in Scotland, by the con-
sent of the parliament to the marriage of
their young queen to the dauphin, and by
obtaining possession of her person; after
which they felt less inclined to revenge the
quarrels of the Scottish clergy.
Upon regaining his liberty, Knox imme-
diately repaired to England, under the
most favourable circumstances; for Henry
' vIII. died in the year 1541 and arch‘
bishop Cranmer, freed from the restraint
of his capricious master, exerted himself


112
SCOTS WORTHIES.




in advancing the reformation. He had
invited learned protestants from Germany,
who, with our zealous countryman, were
employed as preachers, itinerating through
different parts of the kingdom, where the
clergy were most illiterate or disaffected,
and the inhabitants most addicted to super-
stition.
The reputation which Knox had gained
by preaching at St Andrews was not un-
known in England, and his late sufferings
recommended him to Cranmer and the
privy council. He was accordingly, soon
after his arrival in England, sent down
from London, by their authority, to preach
in Berwick ; a situation the more accepta-
ble to him, as it afforded him an opportu-
nity to ascertain the state of religion in his
native country, to correspond with his
friends, and impart to them his advice.
The council had every reason to be pleased
with the choice which they had made of a
northern preacher. He had long thirsted
for the opportunity which he now enjoyed.
His captivity, during which he had felt the
powerful support which the protestant
doctrine yielded to his mind, had inflamed
his love to it, and his zeal against popery.
He spared neither time nor bodily strength
in the instruction of those to whom he was
sent. Regarding the worship of the popish
church as grossly idolatrous, and its doc-
trine as damnable, he attacked both with
the utmost fervour, and exerted himself in
drawing his hearers from them, with as
much eagerness as in saving their lives
from a devouring flame or flood. Nor
were his labours fruitless: during the two
years that he continued in Berwick, mun-
bers were, by his ministry, converted from
error and ignorance, and a general refor-
mation of manners became visible among-
the soldiers of the garrison, who had for-
merly been noted for turbulence and licen-
.tiousness.
The labours of Knox within the diocese



' of Tonstal, bishop of Durham, must have
been very disagreeable to the latter. As
the preacher acted under the sanction of
the protector and council, he durst not
inhibit him; but he was disposed to listen
to and encourage informations lodged by
the clergy against the doctrine which he
taught. Although the town of Berwick was
Knox’s principal station during the years
1549 and 1550, it is probable that he was
appointed to preach occasionally in the
adjacent country. Whether, in the course
of his itinerancy, he had, in the beginning
of 1550, gone as far as Newcastle, and
preached in that town, or whether he was
called up to it, in consequence of complaints
against his sermons delivered at Berwick,
does not clearly appear. It is, however,
certain, that a charge was exhibited against
him before the bishop, for teaching that
the sacrifice of the mass was idolatrous,
and a day appointed for him publicly to
assign his reasons for this opinion. Ac-
cordingly, on the 4th of April, 1550, a
great assembly being convened at New-
castle, among whom were the members of
the council, the bishop of Durham, and
the learned men of his cathedral, Knox
delivered, in their presence, an ample
defence of the doctrine, against which com-
plaints had been made. After an appro-
priate exordium, in which he stated to the
audience the occasion and design of his
appearance before them, and cautioned
them against the powerful prejudices of
education and custom in favour of erroneous
opinions and practices in religion, he pro-
ceeded to establish the doctrine which he
had taught. The mode in which he treated
the subject was well adapted to his audi-
tory, which was composed of the unlearned
as well as the learned. He proposed his
arguments in the syllogistic form, according
to the practice of the schools, but illustrated

! them with a plainness level to the meanest
j capacity among his hearers. Passing over




JOHN KNOX.
113






the more gross notions, and the shameful traffic in masses, extremely common atl
that time, he engaged to prove that the
mass, “in her most high degree, and most
honest garments, was an idol struck from
the inventive brain of superstition, which
had supplanted the sacrament of the supper,
and engrossed the honour due to the per-
son and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. “ Spare
no arrows,” was the motto which Knox
wore on his standard; the authority of
scripture, and the force of reasoning, grave
reproof, and pointed irony, were in their
turn employed by him. In the course of
this defence, he did not restrain those
sallies of raillery, which the fooleries of
the popish superstition irresistibly provoke,
even from those who are deeply impressed
with its pernicious tendency. Before con-
cluding, he adverted to certain doctrines
which had been taught in that place on
the preceding Sunday, the falsehood of
which he was prepared to demonstrate;
but he would, in the first place, he said,
submit to the preacher the notes of the
sermon which he had taken down, that he
might correct them as he saw proper; for
his object was not to misrepresent or
captiously entrap a speaker, by catching at
words unadvisedly uttered, but to defend
the truth, and warn his hearers against
errors destructive to their souls.
This defence had the effect of extending Knox’s fame through the north of England,
while it completely silenced the bishop and
He continued to
preach at Berwick during the remaining
part of this year, and in the following was
removed to Newcastle, and placed in a

his learned suffragans.
sphere of greater usefulness. In December,
1551, the privy council conferred on him I
. . . . I
a mark of thelr approbation, by appomting
him one of king Edward’s chaplains in
ordinary. “ It was appointed,” says his;
majesty, in a journal of important transac-
tions which he wrote with his own band,
“that I should have six chaplains in ordi-
nary, of which two ever to be present, and
four absent in preaching; one year two in
WVales, two in Lancashire and Derby;
next year two in the marches of Scotland,
and two in Yorkshire; the third year two
in Norfolk and Essex, and two in Kent
and Sussex. These six to be Bill, Harle,
Perne, Grindal, Bradford. and p .” The
name of the sixth has been dashed out of
the journal, but the industrious Strype has
shown that it Knox. "' These, it
seems,” says bishop Burnet, “were the
most zealous and readiest preachers, who
were sent about as itinerants, to supply the
defects of the greatest part of the clergy,
who were generally very faulty.” An
annual salary of £40 was allotted to each
of the chaplains.
In the course of the year, Knox was
consulted about the Book of Common
Prayer, which was undergoing a review.
On that occasion it is probable that he was
called up to London for a short time.
Although the persons Who had the chief
direction of ecclesiastical affairs were not
disposed, or did not think it yet expedient,
to introduce that thorough reform which
he judged necessary, in order to reduce the
worship of the English church to the
Scripture model, his representations were
He had in-
fluence to procure an important change on
the communion office, completely excluding
the notion of the corporeal presence of
Christ in the sacrament, and guarding
against the adoration of the elements, too
much countenanced by the practice of
kneeling at their reception, which was still
continued. Knox speaks of these amend-
ments with great satisfaction, in his Ad-
monition to the Professors of Truth in
England. “ Also God gave boldness and
knowledge to the court of parliament to
take away the round clipped god, wherein
standeth all the holiness of the papists, and

\Vfl-S
not altogether disregarded.


114
SCOTS WORTHIES.

y_,._.____-..x __.__\ _-

to command common bread to be used at
the Lord’s table, and also to take away most
part of superstitions (kneeling at the Lord’s
table excepted), which before profaned
Christ’s true religion.” These alterations
gave great offence to the papists. In a dis-
putation with Latimer, after the accession
of queen Mary, the prolocutor, Dr Weston,
complained of our countryman’s influence
in procuring them. “ A runagate Scot
did take away the adoration or worshipping
of Christ in the sacrament, by whose pro-
curement that heresie was put into the
last communion book; so much prevailed
that one man’s authoritie at the time.” In
the following year he was employed in
revising the Articles of Religion previous
to their ratification by parliament.
During his residence at Berwick, Knox
had formed an acquaintance with Miss Mar-
jory Bowes, a young lady who afterwards
became his wife. She belonged to the
honourable family of Bowes, and was nearly
allied to Sir Robert Bowes, a distinguished
courtier during the reigns of Henry VIII.
and his son Edward. Before he left Ber-
nvick, he had paid his addresses to this
young lady, and met with a favourable
reception. Her mother was also friendly
to the match; but, owing to some reason,
most probably the presumed aversion of
her father, it was deemed prudent to delay
the consummating of the union. But hav-
ing come under a formal promise to her, he
considered himself as sacredly bound, and,
in his letters to Mrs Bowes, always address—
ed her by the name of mother.
Without derogating from the praise
justly due to those worthy men, who were
at this time employed in disseminating
religious truth through England, We may
say that our countryman was not behind
the first of them, in the unwearicd assiduity
with which he laboured in the stations
assigned to him. From an early period,
his mind seems to have presaged. that the


golden opportunity enjoyed would not be
of long duration. He was eager to “ redeem
the time,” and indefatigable both in his
studies and teaching. In addition to his
ordinary services on Sabbath, he preached
regularly on weekdays, frequently on every
day of the week. Besides the portion of
time which he allotted to study, he was
often employed in conversing with persons
who applied to him for advice on religious
subjects. The council were not insensible
to the value of his services, and conferred
on him several marks of approbation.
They wrote different letters to the gover—
nors and principal inhabitants of the places
where he preached, recommending him to
their notice and protection. They secured
him in the regular payment of his salary,
until such time as he should be provided
with a benefice. It was also out of respect
to him, that, in September, 1552, they
granted a patent to his brother William
Knox, a merchant, giving him liberty, for a
limited time, to trade to any port of
England, in a vessel of a hundred tons
burden.
But the things which recommended
Knox to the council, drew upon him the
hatred of a numerous and powerful party
in the northern counties, who remained
addicted to popery. Irritated by his bold-
ness and success in attacking their supen
stition, and sensible that it would be vain,
and even dangerous, to prefer an accusation
against him on that ground, they watched
for an opportunity of catching at something
in his discourses or behaviour, which they
might improve to his disadvantage. He
had long observed, with great anxiety, the
impatience with which the papists sub-
mitted to the present government, and
their eager desires for any change which
might lead to the overthrow of the pro-
testant religion; desires which were ex-
pressed by them in the north, without that
. reserve which prudence dictated in places


JOHN KNOX.
115



adjacent to the seat of authority He had
witnessed the joy with which they had
received the news of the protector’s fall,
and was no stranger to the satisfaction
with which they circulated prognostications
as to the speedy demise of the king. In a
sermon preached by him about Christmas,
1552, he gave vent to his feelings on the
subject; and, lamenting the obstinacy of I
the papists, asserted that such as were1
enemies to the gospel, then preached in
England, were secret traitors to the crown
and commonwealth,-—-thirsted for nothing
more than his majesty’s death, and cared
not who should reign over them, provided
they got their idolatry again erected. This
free speech was immediately laid hold on
by his enemies, and transmitted, with many
aggravations, to some great men about
court, secretly in their interest, who there-
fore preferred a charge against him, for
high offences, before the privy council.
In taking this step, they were not a
little encouraged by their knowledge of
the sentiments of the duke of Northumber-
land, who had lately come down to his
charge as warden-general of the northern
marches. This ambitious and unprincipled
nobleman had employed his affected zeal
for the reformed religion, as a stirrup to
mount to the highest preferment in the
state, which he had recently procured by
the ruin of the duke of Somerset, the pro-
tector of the kingdom. Knox had offended
him by publicly lamenting the fall of So-
merset, as threatening danger to the refor-
mation, of which he had always shown
himself a zealous friend, whatever his other
faults might have been. Nor could the
freedom which the preacher used, in re-
proving from the pulpit the vices of great
as well as small, fail to be displeasing to a
man of Northumberland’s character.
these accounts, he was desirous to have
Knox removed from that quarter, and had
actually applied for this, by a letter to the
__._
On ‘
council, previous to the occurrence just
mentioned ; alleging, as a pretext, the great
resort of Scotsmen unto him: as if any
real danger was to be apprehended from
this intercourse with a man, of whose
fidelity the existing government had so
many strong pledges, and who uniformly
employed all his influence to remove the
prejudices countrymen against
England.
In consequence of the charges exhibited
against him to the council, he received a
citation to repair immediately to London,
and answer for his conduct. The following
extract of a letter, addressed, “to his sister,”
will show the state of his mind on receiving
the summons: “ Urgent necessity will not
suffer that I testify my mind to you. My
lord of \Vestmoreland has written to me
this Wednesday, at six of the clock at
night, immediately thereafter to repair
unto him, as I will answer at my peril. I
could not obtain licence to remain the
time of the sermon upon the morrow
Blessed be God who does ratify and confirm
the truth of his word from time to time, as
our weakness shall require! Your adver-
sary, sister, doth labour that you should doubt
whether this be the word of God or not.
If there had never been testimonial of the
undoubted truth thereof before these our
ages, may not such things as we see daily
come to pass prove the verity thereof?
Doth it not aflirm, that it shall be preached,
and yet contemned and lightly regarded by
many; that the true professors thereof
shall be hated by father, mother, and others
of the contrary religion; that the most
faithful shall be persecuted ? And cometh
not all these things to pass in ourselves?
Rejoice, sister, for the same word that
forespeaketh trouble doth certify us of the
glory consequent. As for myself, albeit
the extremity should now apprehend me,
it is not come unlocked for. But, alas 3 I
fear that yet I be not ripe nor able to
of his


116 SCOTS
WORTHIES.




glorify Christ by my death; but what
lacketh now, God shall perform in his own
time. Be sure I will not forget you and
your company, so long as mortal man may
remember earthly creature.”
Upon reaching London he found that
his enemies had been uncommonly indus-
trious in exciting prejudices against him,
by transmitting the most false and injurious
information. But the council, after hearing
his defences, were convinced of their malice7
and honourably acquitted him. He was
employed to preach before the court, and
gave great satisfaction, particularly to his
majesty, who contracted a favour for him,
and was very desirous to have him pro-
moted in the church. It was resolved by
the council that he should preach in Lon-
d011, and the southern counties, during the
year 1553; but he was allowed to return
for a short time to Newcastle, either to
settle his affairs, or as a public testimony
of his innocence. In a letter to his sister,
dated Newcastle, 23d March, 1553, we
find himfwriting as follows: " Look further
of this matter in the other letter, m‘itten
unto you at such a time as many thought
I should never write after to man. Hei-
nous were the delations laid against me, and
many are the lies that are made to the
But God one day shall destroy
all lying tongues, and shall deliver his
I look but one
day or other to fall into their hands; for
more and more rageth the members of the
devil against me. This assault of Satan
has been to his confusion, and to the glory
of God. And therefore, sister, cease not
to praise God, and to call for my comfort;
for great is the multitude of enemies.
whom every one the Lord shall confound.
I intend not to depart from Newcastle
before Easter.”
The vigour of his constitution had been
greatly impaired by his confinement in the
French galleys, which, together with his
council.
servants from calamity.

labours in England, had brought on a
gravel. In the course of the year 1553, he
endured several violent attacks of this
acute disorder, accompanied with severe
pain in his head and stomach. “ My daily
labours must now increase,” says he, in the
letter last quoted, “ and therefore spare me
as much as you may. My old malady
troubles me sore, and nothing is more con-
trarious to my health than writing. Think
not that Iweary to visit you; but unless
my pain shall cease, I will altogether be-
come unprofitable. ‘Work, O Lord, even
as pleaseth thy infinite goodness, and relax
the troubles, at thy own pleasure, of such
as seeketh thy glory to shine. Amen.” In
another letter to the same correspondent,
he writes-——“ the pain of my head and
stomach troubles me greatly. Daily Ifind
my body decay ; but the providence of my
God shall not be frustrate. I am charged
to be at \Vidrington on Sunday, where I
think I shall also remain Monday. The
Spirit of the Lord Jesus rest with you.
Desire such faithful as with whom ye com-
municate your mind, to pray that, at the
pleasure of our good God, my dolour both
of body and spirit may be relieved some--
what; for presently it is very bitter.
Never found I the Spirit, I praise my
God, so abundant where God’s glory ought
to be declared; and therefore I am sure
that there abides something that yet we
see not.” “ Your messenger,” says he in
another letter, “found me in bed, after a
sore trouble and most dolorous night ; and
so dolour may complain to dolour when
we two meet. But the infinite goodness
of God, who never despiseth the petitions
of a sore troubled heart, shall, at his good
pleasure, put end to these pains that we
presently suffer, and in place thereof shall
crown us with glory and immortality for
But, dear sister, I am even of mind
with faithful J ob, yet most sore tormented
that my pain shall have no end in this life.
OVOI’.
JOHN
117
KNOX.



The power of God may, against the pur-
pose of my heart, alter such things as
appear not to be altered, as he did unto
Job; but dolour and pain, with sore an-
guish, cries the contrary. And this is
more plain than ever I spake, to let you
' charge their office conscientiously in the
' sight of God; for no minister, according to

know ye have a fellow and companion in .
trouble, and thus rest in Christ, for the
head of the serpent is already broken down,
and he is stinging us upon the heel.”
About the beginning of April, 1553, he
returned to London. In the month of
February preceding, archbishop Cranmer
had been desired by the council to present
him to the vacant living of All- Hallows in
that city. This proposal, which originated
in the personal favour of the young king,
was very disagreeable to Northumberland,
who exerted himself privately to hinder his
preferment. His interference was, how-
ever, unnecessary on the present occasion ;
for when the living was offered to him,
Knox declined it, and when questioned as
to his reasons, readily acknowledged, that
he had not freedom in his mind to accept
of a fixed charge, in the present state of
the English church. - His refusal, with the
reason assigned, having given offence, he
was, on the 14th of April, called before the
privy council. There were present the
archbishop of Canterbury ; Goodrick, bishop
of Ely and lord chancellor; the earls of
Bedford, Northampton, and Shrewsbury;
the lords treasurer and chamberlain, with
the two secretaries. They asked him, why
he had refused the benefice provided for
him in London? He answered, that he
was fully satisfied that he could be more
useful to the church in another situation.
Being interrogated, If it was his opinion,

that no person could lawfully serve in;
ecclesiastical ministrations, according to
the present laws of the realm '? he frankly
replied, That there were many things
which needed reformation, without which
ministers could not, in his opinion, dis-
i
the existing laws, had power to prevent the
unworthy from participating of the sacra-
-ments, “which was a Clllt'f point of his
office.” He was asked, If kneeling at the
Lord’s table was not indifferent? He re-
plied, that Christ’s action was most perfect,
and in it no such posture was used; that
it was most safe to follow his example; and
that kneeling was an addition and an in-
vention of men. On this article there was
a smart dispute between him and some of
the lords of the council. After long rea-
soning he was told, that they had not sent
for him with any bad design, but were
sorry to understand that he was of a con-
trary judgment to the common order. He
said he was sorry that the common order
was contrary to Christ’s institution. They
dismissed him with soft speeches, advising
him to endeavour to bring his mind to
communicate according to the established
rites.
If honours and emoluments could have
biassed the independent mind of our
countryman, he must have been induced to
become a full conformist to the English
church. At the special request of Edward
VI, and
council, he was offered a bishopric; but
the same reasons which prevented him
from accepting the living of All-Hallows,
determined him to reject this more tempt-
ing offer. The fact is attested by Beza,
who adds, that his refusal was accompanied
with a censure of the episcopal office, as
destitute of divine authority, and not even
exercised in England according to the
ecclesiastical canons. Knox himself speaks
in one of his treatises of the “ high promo-
tion offered to him by Edward ;” and we
shall find him at a later period of his life
with the concurrence of his
expressly asserting that he had refused a
bishopric.
During the time that Knox was in


118
SCOTS WORTH IES.


London, he had full opportunity for ob-
serving the state of the court; and the
observations which he made filled his mind
with the most anxious forebodings. Of
the piety and sincerity of the young king,
he entertained not the smallest doubt.
Personal acquaintance heightened the idea
which he had conceived of his character
from report, and enabled him to add his
testimony to the tribute of praise, which all
who knew that prince have so cheerfully
paid to his uncommon virtues and endow-
ments. But the principal courtiers by
whom he was at that time surrounded,
were persons of a very different descrip-
tion, and gave proofs, too unequivocal to
be mistaken, of indifference to all religion,
and readiness to fall in with and forward
the re-establishment of the ancient super-
stition, whenever this might be required
upon a change of rulers. The health of
Edward, which had long been declining,
growing gradually worse, so that no hope
of his recovery remained, they were eager
only about the aggrandizing of their
families, and providing for the security of
their places and fortunes.
The royal chaplains were men of a very
different stamp fi*om those who have
usually occupied that place in the courts
of princes. They were no time-serving,
supple, smooth-tongued parasites; they
were not afraid of forfeiting their pensions,
or of alarming the consciences, and wound-
ing the delicate ears of their royal and
noble auditors, by denouncing the vices
which they committed, and the judgments
of Heaven to' which they exposed them-
The freedom used by the venera-
ble Latimer' is well known from his printed
sermons, which for their homely honesty,
artless simplicity, native humour, and
genuine pictures of the manners of the
age, continue still to be read with interest.
Grindal, Lever, and Bradford, who were
superior to him in learning, evinced the
selves.
l
a
same fidelity and courage.
the ambition, avarice, luxury, oppression,
and irreligion which reigned in the court.
As long as their sovereign was able to
give personal attendance on the sermons,
the preachers were treated with exterior
decency and respect; but after he was
They censured
confined to his chamber by a consumptive
cough, the resentment of the courtiers vent-
ed itself openly in the most contumelious
speeches and insolent behaviour. Those
who are acquainted with our countryman’s
character, will readily conceive that the
sermons delivered by him at court, were
not less bold and free than those of his
colleagues. We may form a judgment of
them, from the account which he has given
of the last sermon which he preached
before his majesty, in which he directed
several piercing glances of reproof at the
haughty premier, and his crafty relation, the
marquis of Winchester, lord high treasurer,
both of whom were among his hearers.
On the 6th of July, 1553, Edward VI.
departed this life, to the unspeakable grief
of all the lovers of learning, virtue, and the
protestant religion; and a black cloud
spread over England, which, after hovering
a while, burst into a dreadful hurricane,
that raged during five years with the most
destructive fury. Knox was at this time
in London. He received the afflicting
tidings of his majesty’s decease with be-
coming fortitude, and resignation to the
sovereign will of Heaven. The event did
not meet him unprepared: he had long
anticipated it, with its probable conse-
quences; the prospect had produced the
keenest anguish in his breast, and drawn
tears from his eyes ; i and he had frequently
introduced the subject into his public dis-
courses and confidential conversations with
his fi'iends. Writing to Mrs Bowes, some
time after this, he says: “ How oft have
you and I talked of these present days, till
neither of us both could refrain tears,


JOHN
KNOX


when no such appearance then was seen
of man! How oft have I said unto you,
that I looked daily for trouble, and that I
wondered at it, that so long I should
escape it! What moved me to refuse (and
that with displeasure of all men, even of
those that best loved me,) those high pro-
motions that were offered by him whom
God hath taken from us for our offences?
Assuredly the foresight of trouble to come.
How oft have I said unto you that the
time would not be long that England
would give me bread? Advise with the
last letter that I wrote unto your brother-
in-law, and consider what is therein con-
tained.”
He remained in London until the 19th
of July, when Mary was proclaimed queen,
only nine days after the same ceremony
had been performed in that city, for the
amiable and unfortunate lady Jane Grey.
He was so affected with the thoughtless
demonstrations of joy given by the in-
habitants at an event which threatened such
danger ‘to the religious faith which they
still avowed, that he could not refrain from
publicly testifying his displeasure, and
warning them in his sermons of the calami-
ties which they might look for. Imme-
diately after this, he seems to have with-
drawn from London, and retired to the
north, being justly apprehensive of the
measures which might be pursued by the
new government.
To induce the protestants to submit
peaceably to her government, Mary amused
them for some time with proclamations, in
which she promised not to do violence to
their consciences. Though aware of the
bigotry of the queen, and the spirit of the
religion to which she was devoted, the
protestant ministers reckoned it their duty
to improve this respite. In the month of
August, Knox returned to the south, and
resumed his labours. It seems to have
been at this time that he composed the,

Confession and Prayer, which he com-
monly used in the congregations to which
he preached, in which he prayed for queen
Mary by name, and for the suppression of
meditated rebellion. WVhile he
itinerated through Buckinghamshire, he
was attended by large audiences, which
his popularity and the alarming crisis
drew together; especially at Amersham, a
borough formerly noted for the general
reception of the doctrines of Wickliffe, the
precursor of the reformation in England,
and from which the seed sown by his
followers had never been altogether eradi~
cated. Wherever he went, he earnestly
exhorted the people to repentance under
the tokens of divine displeasure, and to a
steady adherence to the faith which they
had embraced. He continued to preach
in Buckinghamshire and Kent during the
harvest months, although the measures of
government daily rendered his safety more
precarious; and in the beginning of No-
vember, returned to London, where he
resided in the houses of Mr Locke and Mr
Hickman, two respectable merchants of his
acquaintance.
While the measures of the new govern-
ment threatened danger to all the pro-
testants in the kingdom, and our country-
such as
man was under daily apprehension of
imprisonment, he met with a severe trial
of a private nature. We have already
mentioned his engagements to Miss Bowes.
At this time, it was judged proper by both
parties to avow the connexion, and to pro-
ceed to solemnize the union. This step
was opposed by the young lady’s father;
and his opposition was accompanied with
circumstances which gave much distress
to Knox, Mrs Bowes, and her daughter.
His refusal seems to have proceeded from
family pride; but we are inclined to think
that it was also influenced by religious
considerations; as from different hints
dropped in the correspondence, Mr Bowes



120
SCOTS \VORTHIES.





appears to have been, if not inclined to
popery in his judgment, at least resolved
to comply with the religion now favoured
by the court. \Ve find Knox writing to
Mrs Bowes on this subject from London,
in a letter, dated 20th September, 1553:
“ My great labours, wherein I desire your
daily prayers, will not suffer me to satisfy
my mind touching all the process between
your husband and you, touching my matter
with his daughter. I praise God heartily,
both for your boldness and constancy. But
I beseech you, mother, trouble not yourself
too much therewith. It becomes me now
to jeopard my life for the comfort and
deliverance of my own flesh, as that Iwill
do, by God’s grace, both fear and friendship
of all earthly creatures laid aside. I have
written to your husband, the contents
whereof I trust our brother Harry will
declare to you and to my wife. If I escape
sickness and imprisonment, [you may] be
sure to see me soon.”
His wife and mother-in-law were very
anxious that he should settle in Berwick,
or the neighbourhood of it, where he might
perhaps be allowed to reside peaceably,
although in a more private way than for-
merly. But for this purpose some pecu-
niary provision was requisite. Since the
accession of queen Mary, the payment of .-
the salary allotted to him by government
had been stopped. Indeed, he had not
received any part of it for the last twelve
months. His wife’s relations were abun-
dantly able to give him a sufficient estab-
lishment, but their dissatisfaction with the
marriage rendered them averse. Induced
by the importunity of his mother-in-law,
he applied to Sir Robert Bowes at Lon-
don, and attempted, by a candid explana-
tion of all circumstances, to remove any
umbrage which he had conceived against
him, and procure an amicable settlement
of the whole affair. He communicated
the unfavourable issue of this interview, in


a letter to Mrs Bowes, of which the follow-
ing is an extract :—
“ Dear Mother, so may and will I call
you, not only for the tender affection I
bear unto you in Christ, but also for the
motherly kindness ye have shown unto me
at all times since our first acquaintance,
albeit such things as I have desired (if it
had pleased God), and ye and others have
long desired, are never like to come to
pass, yet shall ye be sure that my love and
care toward you shall never abate, so long
as I can care for any earthly creature.
Ye shall understand that this 6th of No-
vember, I spake with Sir Robert Bowes,
on the matter ye know, according to your
request, whose disdainful, yea, despiteful
words, hath so pierced my heart, that my
life is bitter unto me. I bear a good
countenance with a sore troubled heart;
while he that ought to consider matters
with a deep judgment is become not only
a despiser, but also a taunter of God's
messengers. God be merciful unto him.
Among other his most unpleasing words,
while that I was about to have declared
my part in the whole matter, he said?
‘ Away with your rhetorical reasons, for I
will not be persuaded with them.’ God
knows I did use no rhetoric or coloured
speech, but would have spoken the truth,
and that in most simple manner. I am
not a good oratour in my own cause. But
what he would not be content to hear of
me, God shall declare to him one day to
his displeasure, unless he repent. It is
supposed that all the matter comes by you
and me. I pray God that your conscience
were quiet, and at peace, and I regard not
what country consume this my wicked
carcass. And were [it] not that no man’s
unthankfulness shall move me (God sup-
porting my infirmity) to cease to do profit
unto Christ’s congregation, those days
should be few that England would give me
bread. And I fear that. when all is done,




JOHN
KNOX. 121







I shall be driven to that end ; for I cannot
abide the disdainful hatred of those, of
Whom not only I thought I might have
craved kindness, but also to whom God
hath been by me more liberal than they be
thankful. But so must men declare them-
selves. Affec'tion does trouble me at this
present: yet I doubt not to overcome by
him, who will not leave comfortless his
afflicted to the end: whose Omnipotent
Spirit rest with you. Amen.
He refers to the same disagreeable
affair in another letter written about the
end of this year. After mentioning the
bad state of his health, which had been
greatly increased by distress of mind, he
adds, “ It will be after the 12th day before
I can be at Berwick; and almost I am
determined not to come at all. Ye know
the cause. God be more merciful unto
some, than they are equitable unto me in
judgment. The testimony of my conscience
absolves me, before his face who looks not
upon the presence of man.” These extracts
show us the heart of the writer; they dis-
cover the sensibility of his temper, the
keenness of his feelings, and his pride and
independence of spirit struggling with
affection to his relations, and a sense of
duty.
About the end of November, or begin—
ning of December, he returned from the
south to Newcastle. The parliament had
by this time repealed all the laws made in
favour of the reformation, and restored the
Roman catholic religion; but liberty was
reserved, to such as pleased to observe the
protestant worship, until the 20th of De-
cember. After that period they were
thrown out of the protection of the law,
and exposed to the pains decreed against
heretics. Many of the bishops and minis-
ters were committed to prison; others had
escaped beyond sea. Knox could not
however prevail on himself either to flee
the kingdom, or to desist from preaching. ,
i Three days after the Period limited by the
statute had elapsed, he says in one of his
letters, “ I may not answer your places of
Scripture, nor yet write the exposition of
the 6th Psalm, for every day of this Week
must I preach, if this wicked carcass will
permit.”
His enemies, who had been defeated in
their attempts to ruin him under the for-
mer government, had now access to rulers
sufficiently disposed to listen to their infor-
mations. They were not dilatory in im-
proving the opportunity. In the end of
December, 1553, or beginning of January,
1554, his servant was seized as he carried
letters from him to his wife and mother-
in-law, and the letters taken from him,
matter of accusation against the writer.
As they contained merely religious advices,
and exhortations to constancy in the faith
which they professed, which he was pre-
pared to avoW before any court to which
he might be called, he was not alarmed at
their interception. But, being aware of
the uneasiness which the report would
give to his friends at Berwick, he set out
immediately with the design of visiting
them. Notwithstanding the secrecy with
which he conducted this journey, the ru-
mour of it quickly spread; and some of his
wife’s relations who had joined him, per-
suaded that he was in imminent danger,
prevailed on him, greatly against his own
inclination, to relinquish his design of pro-
ceeding to Berwick, and to retire to a place
of safety on the coast, from which he might
escape by sea, provided the search after
him was continued. From this retreat he
wrote to his wife and mother, acquainting
them with the reasons of his absconding,
and the little prospect which he had of
being able at that time to see them. His
brethren, he said, had, “partly by admoni—
tion, partly by tears, compelled him to
obey,” somewhat contrary to his ovm mind;
Q.

with the view of finding in them some '


122
SCOTS WORTHIES.




_ “I! _ ..
for “never could he die in a more honest I One of his first cares after arriving at
quarrel,” than by suffering as a witness for l Dieppe, was to employ his pen in writing
that truth for which God had made him a
messenger. Notwithstanding this state of
his mind, he promised, if Providence pre-
pared the way, to “ obey the voices of his
brethren, and give place to the fury and
rage of Satan for a time.”
Having ascertained that the apprehen-
sions of his friends were too well founded,
and that he could not elude the pursuit of
his enemies, if he remained in England, he
procured a vessel, which, on the 28th of
January, 1554, landed him safely at Dieppe,
a port of Normandy, in France.
Providence, which had more important
services in reserve for Knox, made use of
the urgent importunities of his friends to
hurry him away from the danger to which,
had he been left to the determination of
his own mind, his zeal and fearlessness
would have prompted him to expose him-
self. No sooner did he reach a foreign
shore than he began to regret the course
which he had been induced to take. When
he thought upon his fellow-preachers,whom
he had left behind immured in dungeons,
and the people lately under his charge,
now scattered abroad as sheep without'a
shepherd, and a prey to ravening wolves,
he felt an indescribable pang, and an almost
irresistible desire to return and share in
the hazardous but honourable conflict.
Although he had only complied with the
divine direction, “when they persecute you
in one city, flee ye into another,” and in
his own breast stood acquitted of cowardice,
he found it difficult to divest his conduct
of the appearance of that weakness, and
was afi~aid it might operate as a discourage-
ment to his brethren in England, or an
inducement to them to make sinful com-
pliances with the view of saving their
lives.

He did not, however, abandon himself.
to melancholy and unavailing complaints.
suitable advices to those whom he could
no longer instruct by his sermons and
conversation. YVith this view he trans-
mitted to England two short treatises.
The one was an exposition of the Sixth
Psalm, which he had begun to write in
England, at the request of Mrs Bowes, but
had not found leisure to finish. It is an
excellent practical discourse upon that
portion of Scripture, and will be read with
peculiar satisfaction by those who have
been trained to religion in the school of
adversity. The other treatise was a large
letter, addressed to those in London and
other parts of England, among whom he
had been employed as a preacher. The
drift of it was to warn them against defec-
tion from the religion which they had pro-
fessed, or giving countenance to the idola-
trous worship erected among them. The
conclusion is a most impressive and elo-
quent exhortation, in which he addresses
their consciences, their hopes, their fears,
their feelings, and adjures them by all that
"is sacred, and all that is dear to them, as
men, as parents, and as christians, not to
start back from their good profession, and
plunge themselves and their posterity into
the gulf of ignorance and idolatry. The
reader of this letter cannot fail to be struck
with its animated strain, when he reflects,
that it proceeded from a foreign exile, in a
strange country, without a single acquain~
tance, and ignorant where he would find
a place of abode or the means of sub-
sistence.
On the last day of February, 1554, he
set out from Dieppe, like the Hebrew
patriarch of old, “ not knowing whither he
went ;” and “ committing his way to God,”
travelled through France, and came to
Switzerland. A correspondence had been
kept up between some of the English re-
formers and the most noted divines of the


JOHN
KNOX. 123





l
I'Ielvetic church. The latter had already
heard, with the sincerest grief, of the over-
throw of the reformation in England, and
the dispersion of its friends. Upon making
himself known, Knox was cordially received
by them, and treated with the most chris-
tian hospitality. He spent some time in
Switzerland,visiting the particular churches,
and conferring with the learned men. Cer-
tain difficult questions, suggested by the
present conjuncture of affairs in England,
which he had revolved in his mind, he
propounded to them for advice, and was
confirmed in his own judgment by the
coincidence of their views.
In the beginning of May he returned to
Dieppe, to receive information from Eng-
land, a journey which he repeated at in-
tervals as long as he remained on the
continent. The kind reception which he
had met with, and the agreeable company
which he enjoyed, during his short resi-
dence in Switzerland, had helped to dissi—
pate the cloud which hung upon his spirits
when he landed in France, and to open his
mind to more pleasing prospects as to the
issue of the present afflicting providcnces.
This appears from a letter written by him
at this time, and addressed, “ To his
afflicted brethren.” After discoursing of
the situation of the disciples of Christ,
during the time that he lay in the grave,
and the sudden transition which they ex-
perienced, from the depth of sorrow to the
summit of joy, upon the reappearance of
their Master; he adds : “ The remem-
brance thereof is unto my heart great
matter of consolation. For yet my good
hope is, that one day or other, Christ
Jesus, that now is crucified in England,
shall rise again, in despite of his enemies,
and shall appear to his weak and sore
troubled disciples (for yet some he hath in
that wretched and miserable realm); to ,
whom he shall say, ‘ Peace be unto you: it is I; be not afraid.’ ” i

His spirit was also refreshed at this
time, by the information which he received
of the constancy with which his mother-
in-law adhered to the protestant faith. It
appears that her husband had expected
that she and the rest of her family had
consciences equally accommodating with
his own. It was not until she had evinced,
in the most determined manner, her resolu-
tion to forsake fi'iends and native country,
rather than sacrifice her religion, that she
was released from his importunities to
comply with the Roman catholic religion.
Before he went to Switzerland, Knox had
signified his intention, if his life was spared,
of visiting his fi‘iends at Berwick. When
he returned to Dieppe, he had not relin-
quished the thoughts of this enterprise.
His friends, by their letters, would, it is
likely, dissuade him from this; and, after
cool consideration, he resolved to postpone
an attempt, by which he must have risked
his life, without any prospect of doing
good.
Wherefore, setting out again from
Dieppe, he repaired to Geneva. It was
on this occasion that he first became per-
sonally acquainted with the celebrated
Calvin, and. formed that intimate friend-
ship which subsisted between them till the
death of the latter, in 1564. They were
nearly of the same age; and there was a
striking similarity in their sentiments, and
in the prominent features of their charac-
ter. The Genevan reformer was highly
pleased with the piety and talents of Knox,
who, in his turn, entertained a greater
esteem and deference for Calvin than for
any other of the reformers. As Geneva
was an eligible situation for prosecuting
study, and he approved much of the reli-
gious order established in it, he resolved
to make that city the ordinary place of his
residence during the continuance of his
exile.
But no prospect of personal safety or



124
SCOTS WORTHIES.


accommodation could banish fi~om his mind
the thoughts of his persecuted brethren.
In the month of July he undertook another
journey to Dieppe, to inform himself accu-
rately of their situation, and learn if he
could do anything for their comfort. On
this occasion he received tidings, which
tore open those wounds which had begun
to close. The severities used against the
protestants of England daily increased ;
and, what was still more afflicting to him,
many of those who had embraced the truth
under his ministry had been induced to
recant, and go over to popery.
- About this time he composed the Admo-
nition to England, which was published
about the end of this year. Those who
have censured him, as indulging in an ex-
cessive vehemence of spirit and bitterness
of language, usually refer to this tract in
support of the charge. It is true that he
there paints the persecuting papists in the
blackest colours, and holds them up as
objects of human execration and divine
vengeance. We do not stop here to in-
quire whether he was chargeable with
transgressing the bounds of moderation
prescribed by religion and the gospel, in
the expression of his indignation and zeal;
or whether the censures pronounced by his
accusers, and the principles upon which they
proceed, do not involve a condemnation of
the temper and language of the most righte-
ous men mentioned in Scripture, and even of
our Saviour himself. But we ask—What
terms were too strong for stigmatizing the
execrable system of persecution coolly pro-
jected by the dissembling, vindictive Gar-
diner, the brutal barbarity of the bloody
Bonner, or the unrelenting, insatiable
cruelty of Mary, who, having extinguished
the feelings of humanity, and divested her-
self of the tenderness which characterizes
her sex, issued orders for the murder of
her subjects, until her own husband, bigoted
and unfeeling as he was, turned with dis-


gust from the spectacle, and continued to
urge to fresh severities the willing instru~
ments of her cruelty, after they were
sated with blood !
Knox returned to Geneva, and applied
himself to study with all the ardour of
youth, although his age now bordered upon
fifty. It was about this time that he seems
to have made some proficiency in the
knowledge of the Hebrew language, which
he had no opportunity of acquiring in early
life. It is natural to inquire, by what
funds he was supported during his exile.
However much inclined his mother-in-law
was to relieve his necessities, the disposi-
tion of her husband seems to have put it
greatly out of her power. Any small sum
which his friends had advanced to him,
before his sudden departure from England,
was exhausted, and he was at this time
very much straitened for money. Being
unwilling to burden strangers, he looked
for assistance to the voluntary contribu-
tions of those among whom he had labour~
ed. In a letter to Mrs Bowes, he says,
“ My own estate I cannot well declare;
but God shall guide the footsteps of him
that is wilsome, and will feed him in
trouble that never greatly solicited for the
world. If any collection might be made
among the faithful, it were no shame for
me to receive that which Paul refused not
in the time of his trouble. But all I remit
to His providence, that ever careth for his
own.” I find from his letters, that remit-
tances were made to him by particular
friends, both in England and Scotland,
during his residence on the continent.
On the 14th of July, 1554, the English
exiles who had come to Frankfort, obtain-
ed from the magistrates the joint use of
the place of worship allotted to the French,
with liberty to perform religious service in
their own language. This was granted
upon the condition of their conforming as
nearly as possible to the form of worship


JOHN KNOX.
125


used by the French church, a prudent pre-
caution which their political circumstances
dictated. The offer was gratefully accept-
ed by the English, who came to an unani-
mous agreement, that in using the English
liturgy they would omit the litany, the
audible responses, the surplice, with other
ceremonies, which, “ in those reformed
churches would seem more than strange,”
or which were “ superstitious and super-
fluous.” Having settled this point in the
most harmonious manner, elected a pastor
and deacons, pro tempore, and agreed
upon some rules for discipline, they wrote
a circular letter to their brethren scattered
in different places, inviting them to Frank-
fort, to share with them in their accommo-
dations, and unite their prayers for the
atiiicted church of England. The exiles
at Strasburgh, in their reply, recommended
to them certain persons as most fit for the
offices of superintendent and pastors; a
recommendation not asked by the congre-
gation at Frankfort, who did not think a
Superintendent requisite in their situation,
and meant to have two or three pastors of
equal authority. . They, accordingly, pro-
ceeded to make choice of three, one of
whom was Knox, who received information
of his election, by the following letter from
the congregation delivered to him in
Geneva :—
“iVe have ir‘eceived letters from our
brethren off Strausbrough, but not in suche
sorte and ample wise as we looked for;
whereupon we assembled together in the
H. Goaste (we hope,) and have, with one
voice and consent, chosen yow so par-
ticulerly to be one off the ministers off
our congregation here, to preache unto
us the most lively worde of God, accord-
inge to the gift that God hathe geven
for as muche as we have here,
throughe the mercifull goodness off God
yOYV ;
a churche to be congregated together in .
i, (although, in his judgment, he approved or
the name of Christe, and be all of one

body, and also beinge of one nation, tonge,
and countrie. And at this presente, hav-
ing need of such a one as yow, we do desier
yow and also require yow, in the name of
God, not to deny us, nor to refuse theis
oure requests; but that yow will aide,
helpe, and assiste us with your presence in
this our good and godlie enterprise, which
we have taken in hand, to the glorie oft
God and the profit off his congregation,
and the poore sheepe'off Christ dispersed
abroad, who, withe your and like presences,
woulde come hither and be of one folde,
where as nowe they wander abroad as loste
sheepe, withowte anie gide. We mistruste
not but that you will joifully accepte this
callinge. Fare ye well from Franckford
this 24. of September.”
Knox was averse to undertake this
charge, either from a desire to continue
his studies at Geneva, or from an appre-
hension of difficulties which he might meet
with at Frankfort. By the persuasion of
Calvin, he was, however, induced to comply
with the call, and, repairing to Frankfort
in the month of November, commenced his
ministry with the universal consent and
approbation of the congregation.
“Then Knox arrived, he found that the
seeds of animosity had already sprung up
amongst them. From his sentiments re-
specting the English service-book we may
be sure that the eagerness manifested by
those who wished to impose it was very
displeasing to him. But so sensible was
he of the pernicious and discreditable
effects of division among brethren exiled
for the same faith, that he resolved to act
as a moderator between the two parties,
and to avoid, as far as possible, everything
which tended to widen or continue the
breach. Accordingly, when the congrega-
tion had agreed to the order of the Genevan
church, and requested him to proceed to
administer the communion according to it,





SCOTS WORTHIES.



that order) he declined to use it, until
their learned brethren in other places were
consulted. At the same time, he signified
that he had not freedom to administer the
sacraments agreeably to the English liturgy.
If he could not be allowed to perform this
service in a manner more consonant to
scripture, he requested that some other
might be employed in this duty, and he
would willingly confine himself to preach-
ing: if neither of these could be granted,
he besought them to release him altogether
from his charge. To this last request they
would by no means consent.
Fearing that if these differences were
not speedily accommodated, they would
burst into a flame of contention, Knox,
along with some others, was employed to
draw up a summary of the Book of
Common Prayer, and having translated
it into Latin, to send it to Calvin for
his opinion and advice. Calvin replied
in a letter, which being read to the con-
gregation, had a great effect in repressing
the keenness of such as had urged the
unlimited use of the liturgy; and a com-
mittee was appointed to draw up a form
which might accommodate all differences.
When this committee met, Knox told them
that he was convinced it was necessary
for one of the parties to relent before they
could come to an amicable settlement; he
would therefore state, he said, what he
judged most proper, and having exonerated
himself, would allow them without opposi-
tion to determine as they should answer to
God and the church. They accordingly
agreed upon a form of worship, in which
some things were taken from the English
liturgy, and others added, which were
thought suitable to their circumstances.
This was to continue in force until the
end of April next; if any dispute arose in

‘ had obliged him to leave it.

members of the congregation ; thanks were
publicly returned to God for the restora-
tion of harmony ; and the communion was
received as a pledge of union, and the burial
of all past offences.
But this agreement was soon after vio~
lated, and the peace of that unhappy con-
gregation again broken, in the most wanton
and scandalous manner. On the 13th of
March, Dr Cox, who had been preceptor
to Edward VI., came fi:om England to
Frankfort, with some others in his com-
pany. The first day that they attended
public worship after their arrival, the}
broke through the established order, by
answering aloud after the minister in the
time of divine service. Being admonished
by some of the elders to refrain from that
practice, they insolently replied: “ That
they would do as they had done in Eng
land; and they would have the face of an
English church.” On the following Sab-
bath, one of the number intruded himself
into the pulpit, without the consent of the
pastors or the congregation, and read the
litany, Cox and the other accomplices echo‘
ing the responses. This offensive behaviour
was aggravated by the consideration, that
some of them, before leaving England, had
been guilty of compliances with popery, for
which they had as yet given no satisfaction.
This occasioned an unhappy difference be-
tween the preceptor of the king and the
reformer, which led the latter to quit
Frankfort.
Upon leaving Frankfort, Knox went
directly to Geneva. He was cordially
welcomed back by Calvin. As his advice
had great weight in disposing Knox to
comply with the invitation from Frankfort,
he felt much hurt at the treatment which
In reply to
an apologetic epistle which he received
the interval, it was to be referred to five ' from Dr Cox, Calvin, although he re-
of the most celebrated foreign divines. l strained himself from saying anything
This agreement was subscribed by all the l which might revive or increase the flame,



JOHN
KNOX. 127



could not conceal his opinion, that Knox
had been used in an unbrotherly, unchris-
tian manner; and that it would have been
better for the accuser to have remained at
home, than to have brought a firebrand into
a foreign country, to inflame a peaceable
society.
It appeared from the event, that Provi-
dence had disengaged Knox from his late
charge, to employ him on a more important
service. From the time that he was carried
prisoner into France, he had never lost
sight of Scotland, nor relinquished the
hope of again preaching in his native
country. His constant employment, during
the five years which he spent in England,
occupied his mind, and lessened the regret
which he felt, at seeing the great object of
his desire apparently at as great a distance
as ever. Upon leaving England, his atten-
tion was more particularly directed to his
native country; and, soon after returning
from Frankfort, he was informed that
matters began to assume a more favourable
appearance there than they had worn for
a number of years. After the surrender
of the castle of St Andrews, and the
banishment of the protestants who had
taken refuge in it, an irrecoverable blow
seemed to have been given to the reformed
cause in Scotland. The clergy triumphed
in their victory, and flattered themselves
that they had stifled the voice of opposi-
tion. There were still many protestants
in the kingdom; but they satisfied them-
selves with retaining their sentiments in
secret, without exposing their lives to cer-
tain destruction by avowdng them, or ex-
citing the suspicions of their enemies by
private conventicles. An event which
threatened the extinction of the reformation
in Britain proved the means of reviving it ;
in Scotland.

Several of those who were driven from England by the persecution of :
Mary, took refuge in this country, and:
were overlooked, in consequence of the,
security into which the Scottish clergy had
been lulled by success. Travelling from
place to place, they instructed many, and
fanned the latent zeal of those who had
formerly received the knowledge of the
truth.
William Harlow, whose zeal and know-
ledge of the doctrines of the gospel com-
pensated for the defects of his education,
was the first preacher who came. After
him arrived John Willock, in summer,
1555, being charged with a commission
fi'om the duchess of Embden to the queen
regent. Willock became afterwards the
chief coadjutor of Knox, who entertained
the highest esteem and affection for him.
The union of their talents and peculiar
qualities was of great advantage to the
reformation. Willock was not inferior to
Knox in learning; and, although he did
not equal him in intrepidity and eloquence,
surpassed him in affability, prudence, and
address; by which means he was some-
times able to maintain his station and
accomplish his purposes, when his colleague
could not act with safety or success. He
was a native of Ayrshire, and had worn
the monastic habit; but, at an early period,
he embraced the reformed opinions, and
fled into England. During the severe
persecution for the Six Articles, he was,
in 1541, thrown into the prison of the
Fleet. He was afterwards chaplain to
‘ the duke of Suffolk, the father of lady
Jane Grey; and upon the accession of
queen Mary, he retired to East F riesland.
Although Knox did not know what it
was to fear danger, and was little accus
tomed to consult his personal case, when
he had the prospect of being useful in his
Master’s service, none of his enterprises
were undertaken rashly, and without seri-
ous deliberation upon the call which he
had to engage in them. On the present
occasion, he felt at first averse to a journey
into Scotland. notwithstanding some en-




128
SCOTS WORTHIES.






couraging circumstances in the intelligence
which he had received from that quarter.
He had been so much tossed about of late,
that he felt a peculiar relish in the learned
leisure which he at present enjoyed, and
was desirous to prolong. His anxiety to
see his wife, after an absence of nearly two
years, and the importunity with which his
mother-in-law, in her letters, urged him to
visit them, determined him at last to un-
dertake the journey. Setting out from
Geneva in the month of August, 1555, he
came to Dieppe ; and, sailing from that port,
landed on the east coast, near the boun-
daries between Scotland and England,
about the end of harvest. He repaired
immediately to Berwick, where he had the
satisfaction of finding his wife and her
mother in comfortable circumstances; en-
joying the happiness of religious society
with several individuals in that city, who,
like themselves, had not “ bowed the knee”
to the established idolatry, nor submitted
to “ receive the mark” of Antichrist.
Having remained some time with them,
he set out secretly to visit the protestants
in Edinburgh, intending, after a short stay,
to return to Berwick. But he found em-
ployment which detained him beyond his
expectation. In Edinburgh he lodged with
James Syme, a respectable and religious
burgess, to whose house the fi‘iends of the
reformed doctrine repaired, to attend his
instructions, as soon as they were informed
of his arrival. Among these were John
Erskine of Dun, and ‘William Maitland,
younger of Lethington, afterwards secretary
to Mary queen of Scots. John Willock
was also in Edinburgh at this time. Those
who heard him, being exceedingly gratified
with his doctrine, brought their friends
and acquaintances along with them, and
his audiences daily increased. Being con-
fined to a private house, he was obliged to
preach to successive assemblies; and was
almost unremittingly employed, by night

as well as by day, in communicating in-
struction to persons who demanded it with
extraordinary avidity.
When he arrived in Scotland, he found
that the friends of the reformed doctrine,
in general, continued to attend the popish
worship, and even the celebration of mass ;
principally with the view of avoiding the
scandal which they would otherwise incur.
This was very disagreeable to Knox, who,
in his sermons and conversation, dis-
closed the impiety of that service, and the
danger of symbolizing with it. A meeting
being appointed for the express purpose
of discussing this question, Maitland de-
fended the practice with all that inge-
nuity and learning for which he was dis-
tinguished; but his arguments were so
satisfactorily answered by Knox, that he
yielded the point as indefensible, and
agreed with the rest of his brethren, to
abstain for the future from such temporiz-
ing conduct. Thus was a formal separa
tion made from the popish church in Scot-
land, which may justly be regarded as an
important step in the reformation.
Mr Erskine prevailed ‘on Knox to accom-
pany him to his family seat of Dun, in
Angus, where he continued a month,
preaching. every day. The principal per-
sons in that neighbourhood attended his
sermons. After he returned to the south,
he resided for the most part in Calder-
house, with Sir James Sandilands. Here
he was attended by lord Lorn, after-
wards earl of Argyle; the master of Mar,
afterwards earl of Mar; and lord James
Stuart, natural son of James V., and
prior of St Andrews, afterwards earl of
Moray; the last two of whom Knox
lived to see regents of Scotland. These
noblemen were highly pleased with the
doctrine which he taught. _ In the begin-
ning of the year 1556, he was conducted
by Lockhart of Bar, and Campbell of
Kinzeancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient recep-


JOHN
KNOX. 129



r:
tacle of the Scottish Lollards, where there
were a number of adherents to the reform-
ed doctrines. He preached in the houses
of Bar, Kinzeancleugh, Carnell, Ochiltree,
and Gadgirth, and in the town of Ayr. In
several of these places, he also dispensed
the sacrament of our Lord’s Supper. A
little before Easter, the earl of Glencairn
sent for him to his manor of F inlayston,
in which, after preaching, he also dispensed
the sacrament; the earl, his lady, and two
of their sons, with some friends assembled
for that purpose, participating of the sacred
feast. From F inlayston he returned to
Calder-house, and soon after paid a second
visit to Dun, during which he preached
more openly than before. The most of
the gentlemen of Mearns did at this time
make profession of the reformed religion,
by sitting down at the Lord’s table; and
entered into a solemn and mutual bond,
in which they renounced the popish com-
munion, and engaged to maintain the true
preaching of the gospel, according as Pro-
vidence should favour them with opportu-
nities. This seems to have been the first
of those religious bonds or covenants, by
which the confederation of the protestants
in Scotland was so frequently ratified.
The dangers to which Knox and his
friends had been accustomed, had taught
them to conduct matters with such secrecy,
that he had preached for a considerable
time and in different places, before the
clergy knew that he was in the kingdom.
Concealment, however, was impracticable,
after his audiences became so numerous.
His preaching in Ayr was reported to the
court, and formed the topic of conversation
in the presence of the queen regent. Some

affirmed that the preacher was an English-
man; " a prelate not of the least pride~
(probably Beaten, archbishop of Glasgow,)
said, Nay; no Englishman, but it is Ix'noa",

that knave." “ It was my Lords pleasure,”
says Knox, " so to baptize a poor man; the .
reason whereof, if it should be required,
his rochet and mitre must stand for autho-
rity. What further liberty he used in
defining things like uncertain to him, to
wit, of my learning and doctrine, at this
present I omit. F or what hath my life
and conversation been, since it hath pleas-
ed God to call me from the puddle of
papistry, let my very enemies speak; and
What learning I have, they may prove when
they please.” Interest was at this time
made by the bishops for his apprehension;
but the queen regent discouraged the appli-
cation.
After his last journey to the north, the
friars flocked from all quarters to the
bishops, and instigated them to adopt
speedy and decisive measures for checking
the alarming effects of his preaching. In
consequence of this, Knox was summoned
to appear before a convention of the
clergy, in the church of the blackfriars at
Edinburgh, on the 15th of May. This
diet he resolved to keep, and with that
view came to Edinburgh, before the day
appointed, accompanied by Erskine of Dun,
and several other gentlemen. The clergy
had never dreamed of his attendance:
' when apprized of his design, being afraid
to bring matters to extremity, and unas-
sured of the regent’s decided support, they
met beforehand, cast the summons under
pretence of some informality, and deserted
the diet against him. On the day on which
he should have appeared as a pannel, Knox
preached in the bishop of Dunkeld’s large
lodging, to a far greater audience than had
before attended him in Edinburgh. During
the ten following days, he preached in the
same place, forenoon and afternoon; none
of the clergy making the smallest attempt
to disturb him.
About this time, the earl marischal, at
the desire of the earl of Glencairn, attend-
ed an evening exhortation delivered by
Knox. He was so much pleased with it.
R


130
SCOTS WORTHIES.





that he joined with Glencairn, in urging
the preacher to write a letter to the queen
regent, which they thought might have the
her to protect the re-
formed preachers, if not also to give a
favourable ear to their doctrine. With
this request he was induced to comply.
As a specimen of the manner in which
this letter was written, we shall give the
following quotation, in the original lan-
guage. “ I doubt not, that the rumouris,
whilk haif cumin to your Grace’s earis of
me, haif bene such, that (yf all reportis
wer true) I wer unworthie to live in the
earth. And wonder it is, that the voces of
the multitude suld not have so inflamed
your Grace’s hart with just hatred of such
a one as I am accuseit to be, that all acces
to pitie suld have bene schute up. I am
traduceit as ane heretick, accusit as a fais
teacher, and seducer of the pepill, besydis
uther opprobries, whilk (af’firmit be men of
warldlie honour and estimatioun) may
easelie kendill the wrath of majestratis,
whair innocencie is not knawin. But
blissit be God, the Father of our Lord
Jesus Chryst, who, by the dew of his
heavenlie grace, hath so quenchit the tyre
of displeasure as yit in your Grace’s hart,
(Whilk of lait dayis I have understand)
that Sathan is t'rustrat of his interpryse
and purpois. Whilk is to my hart no
small comfort; not so muche (God is
witnes) for any benefit that I can resavc
in this miserable lyfe, by protectioun of
any earthlie creature, (for the cupe whilk
it behoveth me to drink is apoyntit by the
Wisdome of him whois consallis ar not
changeable) as that I am for that benefit
whilk I am assurit your Grace sall resave ;
yf that ye continew in lyke modaratioun
and clemencie towardis utheris, that maist
unjustlie ar and sall be accusit, as that
your Grace hath begun towardis me, and
my most desperat cause.” .
Though Knox’s pen was not the most
effect of inclining


smooth nor delicate, and he often irritated
by the plainness and severity of his lan-
guage, the letter to the queen regent is far
from being uncourtly. It seems to have
been written with great care ; and, in point
of language, it may be compared with any
composition of that period, for simplicity
Its strain was
well calculated for stimulating the in-
and forcible expression.
quiries, and confirming the resolutions of
one who was impressed with a conviction
of the reigning evils in the church, or who,
though not resolved in judgment as to the
matters in controversy, was determined to
preserve moderation between the contend-
ing parties. Notwithstanding her impos-
ing manners, the regent was not a person
of this description. The earl of Glencairn
delivered the letter into her hand ; she
glanced at it with a careless air, and gave
it to the archbishop of Glasgow, saying,
Please you, my lord, to read a pasquil.
The report of this induced Knox, after he
retired from Scotland, to publish the letter,
with additions, in which he used a more
pointed and severe style.
While he was thus employed in Sect-
land, he received letters from the English
congregation at Geneva, stating that they
had made choice of him as one of their
pastors, and urging him to come and take
the inspection of them. He judged it his
duty to comply with this invitation, and
began immediately to prepare for the jour-
ney. His wife and mother-in-law‘had by
this time joined him at Edinburgh; and Mrs
Bowes, being now a widow, resolved to ac-
company her daughter and her husband to
Geneva. Having sent them before him in
a vessel, to Dieppe, Knox again visited
and took his leave of the brethren in the
different places where he had preached.
Campbell of K'inzeancleugh conducted
him to the earl of Argyle, and he preached
for some days in Castle Campbell. Argyle,
and the laird of Glenorchy, urged him to


JOHN
KNOX






remain in Scotland, but he resisted all
their importunities. " If God so blessed
their small beginning,” he said, “ that they
continued in godliness, whensoever they
pleased to command him, they should find
him obedient. But once he must needs
visit that little flock, which the wickedness
of men had compelled him to leave.”
Accordingly, in the month of July, 1556,
he left Scotland, and, arriving at Dieppe,
proceeded with his family to Geneva.
Knox reached Geneva before the end of
harvest, and took upon him the charge of
the English congregation there, among
whom he laboured during the two follow-
ing years. This short period was the most
quiet of his life. In the bosom of his own
family, he experienced that soothing care
to which he had hitherto been a stranger,
and which his frequent bodily ailments
required.
Geneva.
Two sons were born to him in
The greatest cordiality among
themselves, and affection to him, subsisted
in the small flock under his charge. With
his colleague, Christopher Goodman, he
lived as a brother; and was happy in the
friendship of Calvin and the other pastors
of Geneva. So much was he pleased with
the purity of religion established in that
city, that he warmly recommended it to his
religious acquaintances in England, as the
best Christian asylum to which they could
flee. “ In my heart,” says he, in a letter
to his friend Mr Locke, “ I could have
wished, yea, and cannot cease to wish, that
it might please God to guide and conduct
yourself to this place, where I neither fear
nor eshame to say, is the most perfect ‘
school of Christ that ever was in the earth,
since the days of the apostles.
places I confess Christ to be truly preach-
ed; but manners and religion so sincerely
reformed, I have not yet seen in any other
place beside.”
But neither the enjoyment of personal
accommodations, nor the pleasure of liter-
1 . .
ary society, nor the endearments of domes-
tic happiness, could subdue our reformer’s
ruling passion, or unfix his determination
to return to Scotland, as soon as an oppor-
tunity should offer for advancing the refor-
mation among his countrymen. In a letter
written to some of his friends in Edin-
burgh, March 16, 1557, we find him ex-
pressing himself thus: “ My own motion
and daily prayer is, not only that I may
visit you, but also that with joy I may end
my battle among you. And assure your-
self of that, that whenever a greater num-
ber among you shall call upon me that
now hath bound me to serve them, by his
grace it shall not be the fear of punish-
ment, neither yet of the death temporal,
that shall impede my coming to you.” A
certain heroic confidence, and assurance of
ultimate success have often been displayed
by those whom Providence has raised up
to achieve great revolutions in the world ;
by which they have been borne up under
discouragements which would have over-
whelmed men of ordinary spirits, and em-
boldened to face dangers from which
others would have shrunk appalled. This
enthusiastic heroism (I use not the epithet
in a bad sense) often blazed forth in the
conduct of the great German reformer.
Knox possessed no inconsiderable portion
of the same spirit. “ Satan, I confess,
rageth,” says he, in a letter nearly of the
same date with that last quoted; “but
potent is He that promised to be with us,
in all such enterprises as we take in hand

In other i
at his commanchnent, for the glory of his
name, and for maintenance of his true re-
fligion. And therefore the less fear we
any contrary power: yea, in the boldness
, of our God, we altogether contemn them,
be they kings, emperors, men, angels, or
devils. For they shall never be able to
prevail against the simple truth of God
which we openly profess: by the permission
I of God, they may appear to prevail against




SCOTS WORTHIES.



our bodies; but our cause shall triumph
in despite of Satan.”
‘Within a. month after he wrote the
letter last quoted but one, James Syme,
who had been his host at Edinburgh,
and James Barron, another burgess
of the same city, arrived at Geneva
with a letter, and credence, from the
earl of Glencairn, lords Lorn, Erskine,
and James Stuart, informing him that
those who had professed the reformed
doctrine remained steadfast, that its ad-
versaries were daily losing credit ‘in the
nation, and that those who possessed the
supreme authority, although they had not
yet declared themselves friendly, still
refrained from persecution; and inviting
him in their own name, and in that of
their brethren, to return to Scotland,where
he would find them all ready to receive
him, and to spend their lives and fortunes
in advancing the cause which they had
espoused.
This invitation Knox laid before his
congregation, and also submitted it to Cal-
vin and his colleagues. The latter delivered
it as their opinion, “that he could not



of the invitation which they had given him
to return to Scotland; and that the greater
part seemed irresolute and faint-hearted.
This intelligence exceedingly discon-
certed and embarrassed him. He instantly
despatched a letter to the nobility who had
invited him, upbraiding them for their
timidity and inconstancy.
Having sent off this letter, with others
written in the same strain, to Erskine of
Dun, Wishart of Pitarrow, and some other
gentlemen of his acquaintance, he resolved
to spend some time in the interior of
France, hoping to receive in a little more
favourable accounts from Scotland. The
reformed doctrine had been early intro-
duced into the kingdom of France ; it had
been watered with the blood of many mar-
tyrs; and all the violence and barbarity
which had been employed, had not been
able to extirpate it, or prevent it from
spreading among all ranks. The Parisian
protestants were at present smarting undei
the effects of one of those massacres which
so often disgraced the Roman catholic
religion in that country, before as well as
after the commencement of the civil wars.
refuse the call, without showing himselfl Not satisfied with assaulting them when
rebellious to God, and unmerciful to his 1 peaceably assembled for worship in a pri-
77
country.
His congregation agreed to | vate house, and treating them with great
sacrifice their particular interest to the l barbarity, their adversaries, in imitation of
greater good of the church; and his own their pagan predecessors, invented the
family acquiesced. Upon this, he returned
an answer to the letter of the nobility, sig-
nifying, that he meant to visit them with
all reasonable expedition. Accordingly,
after seeing the congregation agreeably
tionate leave of his friends at Geneva, and
went to Dieppe, in the beginning of Octo-
ber. While he waited there for a vessel,
he received letters from Scotland. written
in a very different strain from the former.
I
l
' flagitious crimes in their assemblies.
most diabolical calumnies against them,
and circulated everywhere, that they
were guilty of committing the most
The
: innocent sufferers had drawn up an apology,
provided with a pastor in his room, and
settling his other affairs, he took an affec- "
vindicating themselves from this atrocious
charge, and Knox, having got a copy of
, this, translated it into English, and wrote
1
These informed him, that new consultations i
had been held; that some began to repent
a preface and additions to it, intending to
publish it for the use of his countrymen.
Having acquired the French language,
and formed an acquaintance with many of
the protestants, he occasionally preached
to them in passing through the country.



l
l
j
l
JOHN KNOX.
138



it seems to have been on the present occa-
sion, that he preached in the city of R0-
chelle, when having introduced the subject
of his native countr , he told his audience
that he expected, within a few years, to
preach in the church of St Giles, in Edin~
burgh. There is nothing in our reformer’s
letters from which I can learn whether he
found any protestants in Dieppe, a place
which he so often visited during his exile:
it is probable he did; for at an early period
of the following century they had a very
numerous church in that town.
Having received no intelligence of an
encouraging nature, Knox determined to
relinquish for the present his design of
proceeding to Scotland.
Before he left Dieppe, he transmitted
two long letters to Scotland: the one,
dated 1st December, 1557, was addressed
to the protestants in general; the other,
dated the 17th of the same month, was
directed to the nobility. In judging of
Knox’s influence in advancing the refor-
mation, we must take into view not only
his personal labours, but also the epistolary
correspondence which he maintained with
his countrymen. By this, he instructed
them in his absence, communicated his
own advice, and that of the learned among
whom he resided, upon every difficult case
which occurred, and animated them to
constancy and perseverance. The letters
which he wrote at this time deserve par-
ticular attention in this view. In both of
them he prudently avoids any reference to
his late disappointment.
In the first letter he strongly inculcates
purity of morals, and warns all who pro-
fessed the reformed religion against those
irregularities of life, which were improved
to the disparagement of their cause, by
two classes of persons; by the papists, who,
although the same V1065 prevailed in a far
higher degree among themselves, repre-
sented them as the native fruits of the pro-

testant doctrine ; and by a new sect, who
were enemies to superstition, and had be-
longed to their own society; but having
deserted it, had become scarcely less hos-
tile to them than the papists. The prin-
cipal design of this letter was to put them
on their guard against the arts of this
class of persons, and to expose their lead-
ing errors.
His letter to the protestant lords
breathes a spirit of ardent and noble piety.
He endeavours to purify their minds from
selfish and worldly principles; to raise,
sanctify, and christianize their motives, by
exhibiting and recommending to them the
spirit and conduct of the princes and
heroes, celebrated, not in profane, but
sacred story. The glory of God, the ad-
vancement of the kingdom of Jesus Christ,
the salvation of themselves and their
brethren, the emancipation of their country
from spiritual and civil thraldom; these,
and not their own honour and aggrandize-
ment, or the revenging of their petty, pri-
vate quarrels, were the objects which they
ought to keep steadily and solely in view.
In this letter, he also communicates his
advice on the delicate question of resistance
to supreme rulers. They had consulted
him on this question, and he had submitted
it to the judgment of the most learned on
the continent.
Knox returned to Geneva in the end of
the year 1557. During the following
year, he was engaged, along with several
learned men of his congregation, in making
a new translation of the Bible into English;
which, from the place where it was com-
posed’ and first printed, obtained the name
of the Geneva Bible. It was at this time
that he published his letter to the queen
regent, and his appellation and exhorta-
tion; both of which were transmitted to
Scotland, and contributed not a little to
the spread of the reformed opinions. I
I have already given an account of the first


134
SCOTS WORTHlES.






of these tracts, which was chiefly intei'lded
for removing the prejudices of catholics.
The last was more immediately designed
for instructing and animating such as
were friendly to the reformed religion.
Addressing himself to the nobility and
estates, he shows that the care and refer--
mation of religion belonged to civil rulers,
and constituted one of the primary duties
of their office. This was a dictate of
nature as well as revelation ; and he would
not insist long upon that topic, lest he
should seem to suppose them “ lesse care-
ful over God’s true religion, than were the
Ethnickes over their idolatrie.” Inferior
magistrates, within the sphere of their juris-
diction—the nobles and estates of a king-
dom, as well as kings and princes—were
bound to attend to this high duty. He
then addresses himself to the commonalty
of Scotland, and points out their duty and
interest, with regard to the important con-
troversy in agitation. They were rational
creatures, formed after the image of God;
they had souls to be saved; they were ac-
countable for their conduct; they were
bound to judge of the truth of religion,
and to make profession of it, as well as
kings, nobles, or bishops. If idolatry was
maintained, if the gospel was suppressed, if
the blood of the innocent was shed, how
could they be exculpated, provided they
kept silence, and did not exert themselves
to prevent these evils.
But the most singular treatise published
this year by Knox, and that which made
the greatest noise, was, The First Blast of
the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regi-
ment of \Vomen; in which he attacked
with great vehemence, the practice of ad-
mitting females to the government of
nations. There is some reason to think
that his mind was struck with the incon-
gruity of this practice, as early as h'lary’s
accession to the throne of England. This
was probably one of the points on which
I
I
_. .__,
he had conferred with the Swiss divines in
1554_ It is certain, from a letter writ-
ten by him in 1556, that his sentiments
respecting it were then fixed and decided.
He continued, however, to retain them to
himself, and refrained for a considerable
time from publishing them, out of defer-
ence to the opinions of others. But at
last, provoked by the tyranny of the queen
of England, and wearied out with her in-
creasing cruelties, he applied the trumpet
to his mouth, and uttered a terrible blast.
“ To promote a woman to bear rule, supe-
riority, dominion, or empire, above any
realm, nation or city, is repugnant to
nature, contumely to God, a thing most
contrarious to his revealed will and ap-
proved ordinance; and, finally, it is the
subversion of all equity and justice.” Such
is the first sentence and principal proposi-
tion of the work. '
Our reformer’s letter to the protestant
lords in Scotland produced its intended
effect, in re-animating their drooping cou-
rage. At a consultative meeting held at
Edinburgh, in December, 1557, they
unanimously resolved to adhere to one
another, and exert themselves for the ad-
vancement of the reformation. Having
subscribed a solemn bond of mutual assu-
rance, they renewed their invitation to
Knox; and being afraid that he might
hesitate on account of their former irreso-
lution, they wrote to Calvin to employ his
influence to induce him to comply. Their
letters did not reach Geneva until Novem-
ber, 1558. By the same conveyance Knox
received from Scotland letters of later
date, communicating the most agreeable
intelligence, respecting the progress which
the reformed cause had made, and the
flourishing appearance which it continued
to wear.
Through the exertions of our reformer,
during his residence among them in the
beginning of the year 1556, and in pursu-



JOHN
KNOX. 135




ance of the instructions which he left be-
hind him, the protestants had formed
themselves into congregations, which met
in different parts of the country with
greater or less privacy, according to the
opportunities which they enjoyed. Having
come to the resolution of withdrawing
from the popish worship, they endeavoured
to provide for their religious instruction
and mutual edification, in the best manner
that their circumstances permitted. As
there were no ministers among them,
they continued for some time to be
deprived of the dispensation of the sacra-
ments; but certain intelligent and pious
men of their number were chosen, to
read the Scriptures, exhort, and offer up
prayers, in their assemblies. Convinced of
the necessity of order and discipline in
their societies, and desirous to have them
organized, as far as within their power,
agreeably to the institution of Christ, they
next proceeded to choose elders, for the
inspection of their manners, to whom they
promised subjection; and deacons, for the
collection and distribution of alms to the
poor. Edinburgh was the first place in

which this order was established—Dundee
the first town in which a reformed church
was completely organized, provided with a.
regular minister, and the dispensation of
the sacraments.
During the war with England, which
began in Autumn, 1556, and continued
through the following year, the protestants
enjoyed considerable liberty; and, as they
improved it with the utmost assiduity,
their numbers rapidly increased. \Villiam
Harlow, John Douglas, Paul Methven,
and John W'illock, who had again return-
cd from Embden, now began to preach, I
with greater publicity, in different parts of 3
the country. The popish clergy were not indifferent to these proceedings, and want- E
ed not inclination to put a stop to them. ,
They prevailed on the queen regent to5

V
summon the protestant preachers ; but the
interposition of the gentlemen of the west
country obliged her to abandon the pro-
cess against them. At length, the clergy
determined to revive those cruel measures
which, since the year 1550, had been sus-
pended by the political circumstances of
the kingdom, more than by their clemency
or moderation. In April, 1559, the arch-
bishop of St Andrews committed to the
flames Walter Mill,* and summoned
several others to appear, on a charge of
heresy, before a convention of the clergy
at Edinburgh.
This barbarous and illegal execution
produced effects of the greatest import-
ance. It raised the horror of the nation
to an incredible pitch; and as it was
believed, at that time, that the regent was
not accessory to the deed, their indigna-
tion was directed wholly against the clergy.
Throwing aside all fear, and those re-
straints which prudence, or a regard to
established order, had hitherto imposed on
them, the people now assembled openly to
join in the reformed worship, and avowed
their determination to adhere to it at all
hazards. The protestant leaders laid their
complaints, in a regular and respectfiil
manner, before the regent, and repeated
their petition, that she would, by her
authority, and in concurrence with the
parliament, restrain the tyrannical proceed-
ings of the clergy, correct the flagrant and
insufferable abuses which prevailed in the
church, and grant to them and their bre-
thren the liberty of religious instruction
and worship—at least according to a
restricted plan, which they laid before her,
and to which they were willing to submit,
until such time as their grievances were
deliberately examined and redressed. The
regent’s reply was such as to persuade
them that she was fiiiendly to their propo—
'1‘ See Mill’s Life, supra, p. 75.


136
SCOTS WORTHIES.


sals: she promised that she would take
measures for carrying them legally into
effect, as soon as it was in her power; and
that, in the mean time, they might depend
on her protection.
It did not require many arguments to
persuade Knox to comply with an invita-
tion which was accompanied with such
gratifying
immediately to prepare for his journey to
Scotland. The future settlement of the
congregation under his charge occupied
intelligence; and he began
him for some time. Information being
received of the death of Mary, queen of
England, and the accession of Elizabeth,
the protestant refugees hastened to return
to their native country. The congregation
at Geneva having met to return thanks to
God for this deliverance, agreed to send
one of their number with letters to their
brethren in different places of the con-
tinent, particularly at Frankfort, congratu-
lating them on the late happy change, and
requesting a confirmation of the mutual
reconciliation which had already been
effected, the burial of all past offences,
with a brotherly co-operation, in endea-
vouring to obtain such a settlement of
religion in England as would be agreeable
to all the sincere well-wishers of the
reformation. A favourable return to their
letters being obtained, they took leave of
the hospitable city, and set out for their
native country. By them Knox sent
letters to some of his former acquaintances, '
who were now in the court of Elizabeth,
requesting permission to travel through
England, on his way to Scotland.
In the month of January, 1559, our
reformer took his leave of Geneva, for the
last time. In addition to former marks of
respect, the republic, before his departure,
conferred on him the freedom of the city.
He left his wife and family behind him, E
until he should ascertain that they could
live with safety in Scotland.


Notwithstanding the flattering accounts
which he received from his countrymen of
the favourable disposition of the queen
regent, and the directions which he sent
them to cultivate this, he always entertain-
ed suspicions of the sincerity of her pro-
fessions. But, since he left Geneva, they
had been confirmed; and the information
which he had procured, in travelling
through France, conspired with the intelli-
gence which he had lately received from
Scotland, in convincing him, that the
immediate suppression of the reformation
in his native country, and its consequent
suppression in the neighbouring kingdom
were intended. The plan projected by the
gigantic ambition of the princes of Lor-
raine, brothers of the queen regent of Scot—
land, has been developed, and described
with great accuracy and ability, by a cele-
brated modern historian. Suffice it to say
here, that the court of France, under their
influence, had resolved to set up the claim
of the young queen of Scots to the crown
of England; to attack Elizabeth, and wrest
the sceptre from her hands as a bastard
and a heretic; and, as Scotland was the
only avenue by which this attack could be
successfully made, to begin by suppressing
the reformation, and establishing their
power in that country. Knox, in the
course of his journeys through France, had
formed an acquaintance with some persons
about the court ; and, by their means, had
gained some knowledge of the plan. He
was convinced that the Scottish reformers
were unable to resist the power of France,
which was to be directed against them;
and that it was the interest as well as
duty of the English court, to afford them
the most effectual support. But he was
afraid that a selfish and narrow policy
might prevent them from doing this, until
it was too late ; and was therefore anxious
to call their attention to this subject at an
, early period, and to put them in possession



JOHN KNOX.
137




_'.
of the facts that had come to his know- i ed measures which completely undeceived
ledge. The assistance which Elizabeth
granted to the Scottish protestants, in
1559 and 1560, was dictated by the
soundest policy. It baffled and defeated
the designs of her enemies at the very out-
set; it gave her an influence over Scot-
land, which all her predecessors could not
obtain; it secured the stability of her
government, by extending and strengthen-
ing the protestant interest, the principal
pillar on which it rested. And it reflects
not a little credit on our reformer’s saga-
city, that he had formed this plan in his
mind at so early a period, and persisted to
urge its adoption, until his endeavours
were crowned with success.
On his arrival, Knox found matters in the
most critical state in Scotland. The queen
regent had thrown off the mask which she
had long worn, and avowed her determina-
tion forcibly to suppress the reformation.
As long as she stood in need of the assist-
ance of the protestants to support her
authority against the Hamiltons, and pro-
cure the matrimonial crown for her son-in-
law, the dauphin of France, she courted‘
their friendship, pretended to accede to all
their plans of reform, and flattered them,
if not with the hopes of her joining their
party, at least with assurances that she‘
would shield them from the fury of
the clergy. So completely were they
duped by her consummate address and
dissimulation, that they complied with all
her requests, restrained some of their

them, and discovered the gulf into which
they were ready to be precipitated. Some
of the protestant leaders having Waited on
her to intercede in behalf of their preach-
ers, who had been summoned by her, she
told them in plain terms, that, “ in spite of
them, they should be all banished from
Scotland, although they preached as truly
as ever St Paul did :” and when they
reminded her of the repeated promises of
protection that she had given them, she
unblushingly replied, that “ it became not
subjects to burden their princes with pro-
mises, farther than they pleased to keep
them.” They told her that, if she violated
the engagements which she came under to
her subjects, they would consider them-
selves as released from allegiance to her,
and warned her very freely of the danger-
ous consequences; upon which she adopted
milder language, and engaged to prevent
the trial. But soon after, upon hearing that
the exercise of the reformed religion had
been introduced into the town of Perth,
she renewed the process, and summoned
all the preachers to appear at Stirling, on
the 10th of May, to undergo a trial.
Preachers fI‘Om teaching in public, and , ..
desisted from presenting to the late parlia- 5
I " '5 .' 11;" : 1.’
ment a petition which they had prepared; I iii-it, g
nor would they believe her insincere, even W
after different parts of her conduct had
afforded strong grounds for suspicion.v
But, having accomplished the great objects ‘
i
which she had in view, she at last, in con- 3
formity with instructions from France, and


[Stirling from the East, in 1560.]
Although his own cause was prejudged,
secret engagements with the clergy, adopt- l and sentence already pronounced against
S
138
SCOTS WORTHIES.





him, he did not hesitate a moment in re-
solving to present himself voluntarily at
Stirling, to assist his brethren in their de-
fence, and share in their danger. Having
rested only a single day at Edinburgh, he
hurried to Dundee, where he found the
principal protestants in Angus and Mearns
already assembled, determined to attend
their ministers to the place of trial, and to
avow their adherence to the doctrines for
which they were accused. The providen-
tial arrival of such an able champion of the
cause, at this crisis, must have been very
encouraging to the assembly; and the
liberty of accompanying them, which he '
requested, was readily granted.
Lest the unexpected approach of such a
multitude, though unarmed, should alarm
or offend the regent, the congregation (for
so the protestants began at this time to be
called,) agreed to stop at Perth, and sent
Erskine of Dun before them to Stirling, to
acquaint her with the peaceable object and
manner of their coming. Apprehensive
that their presence would disconcert her
measures, the regent had again recourse to
dissimulation. She persuaded Erskine to
Write to his brethren to desist from their
intended journey, and authorized him to
promise, in her name, that she would put
a stop to the trial. The congregation tes-
tified their pacific intentions by a cheerful
compliance with this request, and the
great part, confiding in the royal promise,
returned to their homes. But when the
day of trial came, the summons was called
by the orders of the queen, the accused
were outlawed for not appearing, and all
were prohibited under the pain of rebellion,
from harbouring or assisting them.
Escaping from Stirling, Erskine brought
to Perth the intelligence of this disgrace-
ful transaction, which could not fail to
incense the protestants. It happened that,
on the same day on which the news came,
Knox, who remained at Perth, preached a

“
sermon, in which he exposed the idolatry
of the mass, and of image-worship. Ser-
mon being ended, the audience quietly dis-
missed; a few idle persons only loitered in
the church, when an imprudent priest,
wishing either to try the disposition of the
people, or to show his contempt of the
doctrine which had been just delivered,
uncovered a rich altar-piece decorated
with images, and prepared to celebrate
mass. A boy having uttered some expres-
sions of disapprobation was struck by the
priest. He retaliated by throwing a stone
at the aggressor, which, falling on the
altar, broke one of the images. This
operated like a signal upon the people pre-
sent who had taken part with the boy;
and, in the course of a few minutes, the
altar, images, and all the ornaments of the
church were torn down and trampled
under foot. The noise soon collected a
mob, who, finding no employment in the
church, by a sudden and irresistible im-
pulse fiew upon the monasteries; nor
could they be restrained by the authority
of the magistrates and the persuasions of
the preachers, who assembled as soon as
they heard of the riot, until the houses of
the gray and black friars, with the costly
edifice of the Carthusian monks, were laid
in ruins. None of the gentlemen or sober
part of the congregation were concerned in
this unpremeditated tumult ; it was wholly
confined to the baser inhabitants, or, as
Knox designs them, “the rascal multi-
tude.”
The demolition of the monasteries has
been represented as the first-fruits of our
reformer’s labours on this occasion; but
whatever his sentiments were as to the
destruction of the instruments and menu-
ments of idolatry, he Wished this to be
accomplished in a regular manner ; he was
sensible that such tumultuary proceedings
were prejudicial to the cause of the reform-
ers in present circumstances ; and, instead


JOHN KNOX.
139



of instigating, he exerted himself in putting
a stop to the ravages of the mob. If,
however, it is to be traced to a remote
cause, it must be imputed to the wanton
and dishonourable perfidy of the queen.
Nothing could be more favourable to
the designs of the regent than this riot.
By her recent conduct, she had forfeited
the confidence of the protestants, and even
exposed herself in the eyes of the sober
and moderate of her own party. This
occurrence afforded her an opportunity of
turning the public indignction fi'om 11er-
self, and directing it against the congrega-
tion, which she did not fail to improve
with her usual address. Having assembled
the nobility, she magnified the accidental
tumult into a dangerous and designed
rebellion. To the catholics she dwelt
upon the sacrilegious overthrow of those
venerable structures which their ancestors
had dedicated to the service of God. To
the protestants who had not joined those
at Perth, she complained of the destruction
of the royal foundation of the charter-
house, protested that she had no intention
of offering violence to their consciences,
and promised her protection, provided they
assisted her in punishing those who had
been guilty of this violation of public
order. Having inflamed the minds of all
against them, she advanced to Perth with
an army, threatening to lay waste the town
with fire and sword, and to inflict the most
exemplary vengeance on all who had been
instrumental in producing the riot.
The protestants of the north were not
insensible of their danger, and did all in
their power to appease the rage of the
queen; they wrote to her, to the command-
ers of the French troops, to the popish
nobles, and to those of their own persua-
sion; they solemnly disclaimed all rebellious
intentions; they protested their readiness
to yield all due obedience to the govern-
ment; they obtested and admonished all to
‘-"1
refrain fi~om offering violence to peaceable
subjects, who sought only the liberty of their
consciences. Finding all these endeavours
fruitless, they resolved, however, not to
suffer themselves and their brethren to be
massacred, but prepared for a defence of
the town against an illegal and furious
assault. So prompt and vigorous were
their measures, that the regent, when she
approached, deemed it imprudent to attack
them, and proposed overtures of accommo-
dation, to which they readily acceded.
While the two armies lay before Perth,
and negotiations were going on between
them, our reformer obtained an interview
with the prior of St Andrews and the
young earl of Argyle, who adhered to the
regent; he reminded them of the solemn
engagements which they had contracted,
and charged them with violating these, by
abetting measures which tended to the
suppression of the reformed religion, and
the enslaving of their native country. The
noblemen assured him that they held their
engagements sacred; the regent had re-
quested them to use their best endeavours
to bring the present differences to an
amicable termination ; if, however, she
violated the present treaty, they promised
that they would no longer adhere to her,
but would openly take part with the rest of
the congregation. The queen was not long
in affording them the opportunity of verify-
ing this promise.
‘The lords of the congregation now re—
solved to introduce a reformation, in those
places to which their authority or influence
extended, and where the greater part of
the inhabitants were friendly, by abolishing
the popish superstition, and setting up the
protestant worship in its room. The feudal
ideas respecting the jurisdiction of the
nobility, which at that time prevailed in
Scotland, in part justified this step: the
urgent and extreme necessity of the case
forms its best vindication.



140
SCOTS WORTHIES.



St Andrews was the place fixed on for
beginning these operations. With this
View, Lord James Stuart, who was prior
of the abbey of St Andrews, and the earl
of Argyle, made an appointment with
Knox to meet him on a certain day, in
that city. Travelling along the east coast
of Fife, he preached at Anstruther and
Crail, and on the 9th of June, he came to
St Andrews. The archbishop, apprized
of his design to preach in his cathedral,
assembled an armed force, and sent infor-
mation to him, that if he appeared in the
pulpit, he would give orders to the soldiers
to fire upon him. The noblemen, having
met to consult what ought to be done,
were of opinion that Knox should desist
from preaching at that time. Their
retinue was very slender; they had not
yet ascertained the disposition of the
town ; the queen lay at a small distance
with an army, ready to come to the'
bishop’s assistance; and his appearance in
the pulpit might lead to the sacrifice of his
own life, and the lives of those who were
determined to defend him from violence.
But had the reformers, after announcing
their intentions, suffered themselves to be
intimidated by the bravadoing attitude and
threats of the archbishop, their cause
would, at the very outset, have received a
blow, from which it would not easily have
recovered. This was prevented by the
firmness and intrepidity of Knox. Fired
with the recollection of the part ‘which he
had formerly acted on that spot, and with
the near prospect of realizing the sanguine
hopes which he had cherished in his breast
for many years, he replied to the solicita-
tions of his brethren,-—That he could take
God to witness, that he never preached in
contempt of any man, nor with the design
of hurting an earthly creature ; but to
delay to preach next day (unless forcibly
hindered), he could not in conscience


agree. In that town, and in that church,
had God first raised him to the dignity of a
preacher, and from it he had been reft by
French tyranny, at the instigation of the
Scotch bishops. The length of his im-
prisonment, and the tortures which he had
endured, he would not at present recite; but
one thing he could not conceal, that, in the
hearing of many yet alive, he had expressed
his confident hope of again preaching in
St Andrews. Now, therefore, when Pro-
vidence, beyond all men’s expectation, had
brought him to that place, he besought
them not to hinder him. “ As for the fear
of danger that may come to me,” continued
he, “let no man be solicitous; for my life
is in the custody of Him whose glory I
seek. I desire the hand or weapon of no
man to defend me. I only crave audience ;
which, if it be denied here unto me at this
time, I must seek where I may have it.”
This intrepid reply silenced all further
remonstrances; and next day Knox ap-
peared in the pulpit, and preached to a
numerous assembly without meeting with
the slightest opposition or interruption.
He discoursed on the subject of our
Saviour’s ejecting the profane traffickers
from the temple of Jerusalem ; from which
he took occasion to expose the enormous
corruptions which had been introduced
into the church, under the papacy; and to
point out what was incumbent upon Chris-
tians, in their different spheres, for remov-
ing them. On the three following days he
preached in the same place; and such was
the influence of his doctrine, that the pro-
vost, bailies, and inhabitants, harmoniously
agreed to set up the reformed worship in
the town; the church was stripped of
images and pictures, and the monasteries
pulled down.
The example of St Andrews was quickly
followed in other parts of the kingdom;
and, in the course of a few weeks, at Crail,


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JOHN KNOX. 141








at Cupar, at Lindores, at Stirling, at
Linlithgow, and at Edinburgh, the houses
of the monks were overthrown, and all the
instruments which had been employed
to foster idolatry and image-worship were i
destroyed. I
Our reformer continued at St Andrews
till the end of June, when he came to
Nicolas Throkmorton, the English ambas-
sador, fora safeconduct to pass into England.
Throkmorton, who by this time had begun
to penetrate the counsels of the French
court, not only granted this, but wrote a
letter to the queen, in which he urged the
propriety of overlooking the offence which
Knox had given by his publication, and of
Edinburgh, from which the regent and her conciliating him by the kind treatment of
forces had retired. The protestants in , his wife; seeing he was in great credit
this city fixed their eyes upon him, and l with the lords of the congregation; had
chose him immediately for their minister. been the principal instrument in producing
He accordingly entered upon that charge; the late change in that kingdom ; and was
but the lords of the congregation having capable of doing essential service to her
soon after concluded a treaty with the majesty. Accordingly, Mrs Knox came
regent, by which they delivered up Edin- into England, and being conveyed to the
burgh to her, judged it unsafe for him borders by the direction of the court,
to remain there, on account of the ex- reached her husband in safety, on the 20th
treme personal hostility with which the of September. Her mother, after remain-
papistswere inflamedagainst him. Vv'illock, ing a short time in her native country,
as being less obnoxious to them, was there- i followed her into Scotland, where she re-
fore substituted in his place, while he un-
dertook a tour of preaching through the
kingdom. This itinerancy had great influ-
ence in extending the reformed interest.
The wide field which was before him; the
interesting situation in which he was
placed; the dangers by which he was sur-
rounded, and the hopes which he cherished,
increased the ardour of his zeal, and stimu-
lated him to extraordinary exertions both
of body and mind. W'ithin less than two
months, he travelled over the greater part
of Scotland. He visited Kelso, and J ed-
burgh, and Dumfries, and Ayr, and Stirling,
and Perth, and Brechin, and Montrose,
and Dundee, and returned again to St preachers, which was severely felt.
The attention of the nation In the mean time, it became daily more
l apparent that the lords of the congregation
would be unable, without foreign aid, to
and they panted for the word of life which Z maintain the struggle in which they were
they had Once tasted. linvolved. Had the contest been merely
Immediately after his arrival in Scotland, j between them and the domestic party of
Knoxwrote to Genevaforhis wife andfamily. i the regent, they would soon have brought
On the 13th of June, Mrs Knox and her it to a successful termination; but they
family were at Paris, and applied to Sir could not withstand the veteran troops

mained until her death.
The arrival of his family was the more
gratifying to our reformer, that they were
accompanied by Christopher Goodman.
He had repeatedly written, in the most
pressing manner, for his late colleague to
come to his assistance, and expressed much
uneasiness at the delay of his arrival.
Goodman became minister of St Andrews.
The settlement of protestant ministers took
place at an earlier period than is mention-
ed in our common histories. Previous to
September, 1559, eight towns were pro-
vided with pastors ; other places remained
unprovided, owing to the scarcity of

Andrews.
was aroused; their eyes were opened to
the errors by which they had been deluded;

142
SCOTS WORTHIES.



which France had sent to her assistance,
and was preparing to send, in still more
formidable numbers. As far back as the
middle of June, our reformer renewed his
exertions for obtaining assistance from
England, and persuaded William Kircaldy
of Grange, first to write, and afterwards to
pay a visit to Sir Henry Percy, who held
a public situation on the English marches.
Percy immediately transmitted his repre-
sentations to London, and an answer was
returned from secretary Cecil, encouraging
the correspondence.
Knox himself wrote to Cecil, requesting
permission to visit England, and enclosed
a letter to queen Elizabeth, in which he i
attempted to apologize for his rude attack
upon female government. There was
nothing at which he was more awkward
than making apologies. The letter con-
tains professions of strong attachment to
Elizabeth’s government; but the strain in
which it is written is such as, if it was ever
read by that high-minded princess, must
have aggravated instead of extenuating his
offence. But the sagacious secretary, we
have little doubt, suppressed it. He was
himself friendly to the measure of assisting
the Scottish congregation, and exerted all
his influence to bring over the queen and
her council to his opinion. A message
was accordingly sent to Knox, desiring him
to meet with Sir Henry Percy at Alnwick,
on the 2d of August, upon business which
required the utmost secrecy and despatch;
and Cecil came down to Stamford to hold
an interview with him.
The confusion produced by the advance
of the regent’s army upon Edinburgh re-
tarded his journey; but no sooner was this
settled, than he sailed from Pittenweem to
Holy Island. Finding that Percy was
recalled from the borders, he applied to
Sir James Croft, governor of Berwick.
Croft, who was not unapprized of the de-
sign upon which he came, dissuaded him



from proceeding farther into England, and
undertook to despatch his communications
to London, and to procure a speedy return,
‘While he remained at Berwick, VVhitlaw
came from the English court with an-
swers to the letters formerly sent; and he
immediately returned to lay these before
a meeting of the protestant lords at Stir-
ling. The irresolution or the caution of
Elizabeth’s cabinet had led them to express
themselves in such general and unsatisfac'
tory terms, that the assembly were both
disappointed and displeased; and it was
with some difficulty that our reformer
obtained permission from them to write
again to London in his own name. The
representation which he gave of the urgency
of the case, and the danger of further hesi-
tation or delay, produced a speedy reply,
desiring them to send a confidential mes-
senger to Berwick, who would receive a
sum of money to assist them in carrying on
the war. About the same time, Sir Ralph
Saddler was sent down to Berwick, to act
as an accredited, but secret agent; and the
correspondence between the court of Lon-
don and the lords of the congregation con-
tinued afterwards to be carried on through
him and Sir James Croft, until the English
auxiliary army entered Scotland.
If we reflect upon the connexion which
the religious and civil liberties of the na-
tion had with the contest in which the
protestants were engaged, and upon our
reformer’s zeal in that cause, we will not
be greatly surprised to find him at this
time acting in the character of a politician.
Extraordinary cases cannot be measured
by ordinary rules. In a great emergency,
1 like that under consideration, when all that
is valuable and dear to a people is at stake,
it becomes the duty of every individual to
step forward, and exert the talents with
which he is endowed for the public good.
Learning was at this time rare among the
nobility; and though there were men of





JOHN KNOX.
143


distinguished abilities among the protestant
leaders, few of them had been accustomed
to transact public business. Accordingly,
the management of the correspondence
with England was for a time devolved
chiefly on Balnaves and our reformer. But
he submitted to this merely from a sense
of duty and regard to the common cause ;
and, when the younger Maitland acceded
to their party, he expressed the greatest
satisfaction at the prospect which this
gave him of being relieved from the
burden.
In a letter to Sir James Croft, Knox
represented the great importance of their
being speedily assisted with troops, without
which they would be in much hazard of
rniscarrying in an attack upon the fortifi-
cations of Leith. The court of England,
he said, ought not to hesitate at offending
France, of whose hostile intentions against
them they had the most satisfactory evi-
dence. But “if ye list to craft with thame,”
continued he, “ the sending of a thousand
or mo men to us can breake no league nor
point of peace contracted betwixt you and
France: For it is free for your subjects to
serve in warr anie prince or nation for their
wages; and if yee fear that such excuses
will not prevail, ye may declare thame
rebelles to your realme, when ye shall be
assured that thei be in our companie.” No
doubt such things have been often done;
and such political casuistry, as Keith not
improperly styles it, is not unknown at
courts. But it must be confessed, that the
measure recommended by Knox—the mo-
rality of which must stand on the same
grounds with the assistance which the
English were at that time affording—was
too glaring to be concealed by the excuses
which he suggested. Croft laid hold of
this opportunity to check the impetuosity
of his correspondent, and wrote him, that
he wondered how he, “ being a wise man,”

could not give “ without breach of treaty,
and dishonour;” and that the world was
not so blind as not to see through the
devices by which he proposed to colour
the matter. Knox, in his reply, apologized
for his “ unreasonable request ;” but, at the
same time, reminded Croft of the common
practice of courts in such matters, and of
the French court towards themselves in a
recent instance; he was not ignorant, he
said, of the inconveniences which might
attend an open declaration in their favour,
but feared that they would have cause to
“ repent the drift of time, when the remedy
shall not be so easy.”
Notwithstanding the prejudice which
existed in the English court against our
reformer, on account of his “audacity” in
attacking female prerogative, they were too
well acquainted with his integrity and in-
fluence to decline his services. Cecil kept
up a correspondence with him; and, in the
directions sent from London for the man-
agement of the subsidy, it was expressly
provided that he should be one of the
council for examining the receipts and
payments, to see that it was applied to
the common action, and not to any private
use.
In the mean time, his zeal and activity in
the cause of the congregation exposed him
to the deadly resentment of the queen regent
and the papists. A reward was publicly
offered to the person who should seize or
kill him, and numbers, actuated by hatred
or avarice, lay in wait for his apprehension.
But he was not deterred by this from
appearing in public, nor from travelling
through the country, in the discharge of
his duty. His exertions at this period
were incredibly great. By day he was
employed in preaching; by night in writing
letters on public business. He was the
soul of the congregation; was always pre-
sent at the post of danger; and by his
would require from them such aid as they I, presence, his public discourses, and private


144-
SCOTS WORTHIES.



advices, animated the whole body, and de-
feated the schemes employed to corrupt
and disunite them.
On the 21st of Gctober, an assembly
of nobles, barons, and representatives of
boroughs, was convened at Edinburgh, to
deliberate on the lawfulness of suspending
the queen regent. Willoek, who then
officiated as minister of Edinburgh, and
Knox, were called to attend, when they
both concurred in the legality of the pro-
posaL
T hose who judge of the propriety of any
measure, from the success with which it is
accompanied, will be disposed to condemn !
this treatment of the queen. Soon after
this step was taken, the affairs of the con-
gregation began to wear a gloomy appear-
ance. The messenger whom they had





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sent to Berwick, to receive a remittance
from the English court, was intercepted
on his return, and rifled of the treasure;
their soldiers mutinied for want of pay;
they were repulsed in a premature assault
upon the fortifications of Leith, and worst-
ed in a skirmish with the French troops;
the secret emissaries of the regent were too
successful among them; their numbers
daily decreased; and the remainder, dis~
united, dispirited, and dismayed, came to
the resolution of abandoning Edinburgh
on the evening of the 5th of November,
and retreated with precipitation and dis-
grace to Stirling.
Amidst the universal dejection produced
by these disasters, the spirit of Knox re-
mained unsubdued. On the day after
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Their faces, he said, were confounded



___\
JOHN KNOX.
145


their enemies triumphed, their hearts had . former, unanimously agreed to despatch
quaked for fear, and still remained oppress-
ed with sorrow and shame. What was
the cause for which God had thus dejected
them? The situation of their affairs re-
quired plain language, and he would use
it. In the present distressed state of their
minds, they were in danger of fixing upon
an erroneous cause of their misfortunes,
and of imagining that they had offended
in taking the sword of self-defence into
their hands; just as the tribes of Israel
did when twice discomfited in the war
which they undertook, by divine direction,
against their brethren the Benjamites.
Having divided the congregation into two
classes, those who had been embarked in
the cause from the beginning, and those
who had lately acceded to it, he proceeded
to point out what he considered as blama-
ble in the conduct of each; and, after ex-
horting all to amendment of life, prayers,
and works of charity, he concluded with an
animating address. God, he said, often
suffered the wicked to triumph for a while,
and exposed his chosen congregation to
mockery, dangers, and apparent destruc-
tion, in order to abase their self-confidence,
and induce them to look to him for de-
liverance and victory. If they turned un-
feignedly to the Eternal, he no more
doubted that their present distress would
be converted into joy, and followed by
success, than he doubted that Israel was
finally victorious over the Benjamites, after
being twice repulsed with ignominy. The
cause in which they were engaged would,
in spite of all opposition, prevail in Scot-
land. It was the eternal truth of the
eternal God which they maintained; it
might be oppressed for a time, but would
ultimately triumph.
The audience, who had entered the
church in deep despondency, left it with
renovated courage. In the afternoon the

Maitland to London to supplicate more
effectual assistance from Elizabeth. In the
mean time, as they were unable to keep
the field, they resolved to divide; and that
the one half of the council should remain
at Glasgow, and the other at St Andrews.
Knr x was appointed to attend the latter.
The French having, in the beginning of
the year 1560, penetrated into Fife, he
encouraged that small band, which, under
the earl of Arran, and the prior of St
Andrews, bravely resisted their progress,
until the appearance of the English fleet
obliged them to make a precipitate retreat.
The disaster which caused the protestant
army to leave Edinburgh turned out to the
advantage of their cause. It obliged the
English court to abandon the line of
cautious policy which they had hitherto
pursued. On the 27th of February, 1560,
they concluded a formal treaty with the
lords of the congregation; and, in the be-
ginning of April, the English army entered
Scotland. The French troops retired
within the fortifications of Leith, and were
invested by sea and land; the queen regent
died in the castle of Edinburgh during the
siege; and the ambassadors of France were
forced to agree to a treaty, by which it was
provided that the French troops should be
removed from Scotland, an amnesty granted
to all who had been engaged in the late
resistance to the measures of the regent,
their principal grievances redressed, and a
free parliament called to settle the other
affairs of the kingdom.
During the continuance of the civil war,
while the protestant preachers were as-
siduous in disseminating the knowledge of
the truth through all parts of the kingdom,
the popish clergy used no exertions to
counteract them. Too corrupt to think of
reforming their manners; and too illiterate
to be capable of defending their errors, they
council met, and after prayer by the re- l placed their forlorn hope upon the success
T
L___..__... . r.“ _

146
SCOTS WORTHIES.



of the French arms, and looked forward to
the issue of the contest, as involving the
establishment or the ruin of their religion.
One attempt they indeed made to recover
their lost reputation, and support their
sinking cause—by reviving the stale pretence
of miracles wrought at the shrines of their
saints. But the detection of the imposture
exposed them to derision, and was the
occasion of their losing a person, who, by
his learning and integrity, was the greatest
ornament of their party.
The treaty which put an end to hostili-
ties made no settlement respecting religious
differences; but, on that very account, it
was fatal to popery. The power was left
in the hands of the protestants. The
Roman catholic worship was almost uni-
versally deserted through the kingdom,
except in those places which had been
occupied by the regent and her foreign
auxiliaries; and no provision was made for
its restoration. The firm hold which it
once had of the opinions and affections of
the people was completely loosened; it was
supported by force alone; and the moment
that the French troops embarked, that
fabric, which had stood for ages in Scot-
land, fell to the ground. Its feeble and
dismayed priests ceased, of their own ac-
cord, from the celebration of its rites; and
the reformed service was peaceably set up,
wherever ministers could be found to per-
form it. The parliament, when it met,
had little else to do respecting religion,
than to sanction what the nation had pre-
viously adopted.
In the assignation of ministers to the
different parts of the kingdom, a measure
which engaged the attention of the protes-
tants immediately after the proclamation of
peace, the temporary arrangements formerly
made were in general confirmed; and our
reformer resumed his station as minister of
Edinburgh. During the month of August,
he was employed in composing the Protes- I

tant Confession of Faith, which was pre-
sented to the parliament, who ratified it
and abolished the papal jurisdiction and
worship.
The organization of the reformed church
was not yet completed. Hitherto the
Book of Common Order, agreed upon by
the English church at Geneva, had been
chiefly followed as a directory for worship
and government. But this having been
compiled for the use of a single congrega-
tion, composed, too, for the most part, of
men of education, was found inadequate
for an extensive church, consisting of a
multitude of confederated congregations.
Sensible of the great importance of ecclesi-
astical polity for the maintenance of order,
the preservation of purity of doctrine and
morals, and the general flourishing of re-
ligion in the kingdom, our reformer, at an
early period, called the attention of the
protestants to this subject, and urged its
speedy settlement. In consequence of this,
the lords of the privy council appointed
him and other five ministers to draw out
such a plan as they judged most agreeable
to scripture, and conducive to the advance-
ment of religion. They met accordingly;
and with great pains, and much unanimity,
formed the book which was afterwards
called the First Book of Discipline. Our
reformer had a chief hand in the compila-
tion of this book.
The first General Assembly of the re-
formed church of Scotland sat down at
Edinburgh on the 20th of December, 1560.
It consisted of forty members, only six of
whom were ministers. Knox was one of
these; and he continued to sit in most of
its meetings until the time of his death.
Their deliberations were conducted at first
with great simplicity and unanimity. It
is a singular circumstance, that they had
seven different meetings without a presi_
dent or moderator. But as the number
of members increased, and business be~


JOHN
KNOX. 147


came more complicated, a moderator was
appointed to be chosen at every meeting;
he was invested with authority to maintain
order; and regulations were enacted con-
cerning the constituent members of the
court, the causes which ought to come be-
fore them, and the order of procedure.
In the close of this year our reformer
suffered a heavy domestic loss by the death
of his valuable wife, who, after sharing in
the hardships of her husband’s exile, was
removed from him when he had obtained a
comfortable settlement for his family. He
was left with the charge of two young chil-
dren, in addition to his other cares. His
mother-in-law was still with him; but
though he took pleasure in her religious
company, the dejection of mind to which
she was subject, and which all his efforts
could never completely cure, rather in-v
creased than lightened his burden. His
acute feelings were severely wounded by
this stroke; but he endeavoured to moder-
ate his grief by the consolations which he
administered to others, and by application
to public duties. He had the satisfaction
of receiving. on this-occasion, a letter fi~om
his much respected friend Calvin, in which
expressions of great esteem for his deceased
partner were mingled with condolence for
his loss. \Ve may take this opportunity of
mentioning, that Knox, with the consent
of his brethren, consulted the Genevan re-
former upon several difficult questions which
occurred respecting the settlement of the
Scottish reformation; and that a number of
letters passed between them on this subject.
Anxieties on a public account were felt
by Knox along with his domestic distress.
The reformation had hitherto advanced
with a success equal to his most sanguine


numbers and power, who remained addicted
to popery; and, though they had given way
to the torrent, they anxiously waited for an
opportunity to embroil the country in an-
other civil war, for the restoration of the
ancient religion. Queen Mary and her
husband, the king of France, had refused to
ratify the late treaty, and had dismissed the
deputy sent by the parliament, with marks
of the highest displeasure at the innovations
which they had presumed to introduce. A
new army was preparing in France for the
invasion of Scotland against the spring;
emissaries were sent, in the mean time, to
encourage and unite the Roman catholics;
and it was doubtful if the queen of England
would subject herself to new expense and
odium, by protecting them against a second
attack.
The danger was not unperceived by our
reformer, who exerted himself to prepare
his countrymen, by impressing their minds
with a due sense of it, and exciting them
speedily to complete the settlement of re-
ligion throughout the kingdom, which, he
was persuaded, would prove the principal
bulwark against the assaults of their ad-
versaries. In the state in which the minds
of men then were, his admonitions were
listened to by many who had formerly
treated them with indifference. The threat—
ened storm blew over, in consequence of
the death of the French king; but this
necessarily led to a measure which involved
the Scottish protestants in a new struggle,
and exposed the reformed church to dangers
less obvious and striking; but, on that ac-
count, not less to be dreaded than open
violence and hostility. This was the in-
vitation given by the protestant nobility to
their young queen, who, on the 19th of

expectations; and, at this time, no opposi- r
tion was publicly made to the new estab-
lishment.
critical state.
nation, by no means inconsiderable inl
August, 1561, arrived in Scotland and
assumed the reins of government into her
own hands
The reception which she met with on
her first arrival in Scotland was flattering,
But matters were still in a very
There was a party in the g
5
148
SCOTS WORTHIES.






but an occurrence which took place soon
after damped the joy which had been ex-
pressed, and prognosticated future jealousies
and confusion. Resolved to give her sub-
jects an early proof of her firm determina-
tion to adhere to the Roman catholic
worship, Mary directed preparations to be
made for the celebration of a solemn mass
in the chapel of Holyrood-house, on the
first Sunday after her arrival. So great
was the horror with which the protestants
viewed this service, and the alarm which
they felt at finding it countenanced by their
queen, that the first rumour of the design
excited violent murmurs, which would have
burst into an open tumult, had not the
leaders interfered, and by their authority
repressed the zeal of the multitude. Knox,
from regard to public tranquillity, and to
avoid giving offence to the queen and her
relations, at the present juncture, used his
influence in private conversation to allay
the fervour of the more zealous, who were
ready to prevent the service by force. But
he was not less alarmed at the precedent
than the rest of his brethren; and, having
exposed the evil of idolatry in his sermon
on the following Sabbath, he said, that
“ one mess was more fearfull unto him,
than if ten thousand armed enemies wer
landed in ony parte of the realme, of pur-
pose to suppress the hole religioun.”
Besides his fears for the common cause,
Knox had grounds for apprehension as to
his personal safety. The queen was pecu-
liarly incensed against him on account of
the active hand which he had in the late
revolution; the popish clergy who left the
kingdom represented him as the ringleader
of her factions subjects; and she had signi-
fied, before she left France, that she was
determined he should be punished. His
book against female government was most ~
probably the ostensible charge on which he
was to be prosecuted; and accordingly we
find him making application through the

English resident at Edinburgh, to secure
the favour of Elizabeth; reasonably fearing
that she might be induced to abet the pro--
ceedings against him on this head. But
Whatever perils he apprehended from the
personal presence of the queen, either to
the public or to himself, he used not the
smallest influence to prevent her being
invited home. On the contrary, he con-
curred with his brethren in this measure,
and in defeating a scheme which the duke
of Chatelherault, under the direction of
the archbishop of St Andrews, had formed
to exclude her from the government. But
when the prior of St Andrews was sent to
France with the invitation, he urged that
her desisting from the celebration of mass
should be one of the conditions of her re-
turn; and when he found him and the rest
of the council disposed to grant her this
liberty within her own chapel, he predicted
that “ her liberty would be their thraldom.”
Soon after her arrival, queen Mary,
whether of her own accord or by advice is
uncertain, sent for Knox to the palace, and
held a long conversation with him, in the
presence of her brother the prior of St
Andrews. She seems to have expected to
awe him into submission by her authority,
if not to confound him by her arguments.
But the bold freedom with which he replied
to all her charges, and vindicated his own
conduct, convinced her that the one ex-
pectation was not more vain than the
other; and the impression which she wished
to make was left on her own mind. She
accused him of raising her subjects against
her mother and herself; of writing a book
against her just authority, which, she said,
she would cause the most learned men in
Europe to answer; of being the cause of
sedition and bloodshed when he was in
England; and of accomplishing his purposes
by magical arts.
To these heavy charges Knox replied-—
that, if to teach the truth of God in sincer-


JOHN KNOX.
149


ity, to rebuke idolatry, and exhort a people
to worship God according to his word, were
to excite subjects to rise against their
princes, then he stood convicted of that
crime; for it had pleased God to employ
him, among others, to disclose unto that
realm the vanity of the papistical religion,
with the deceit, pride, and tyranny of the
Roman Antichrist. But if the true know-
ledge of God and his right worship were
the most powerful inducements to subjects
cordially to obey their princes, as they
certainly were, he was innocent. Her
Grace, he was persuaded, had at present as
unfeigned obedience from the protestants
of Scotland, as ever her father or any of
her ancestors had from those called bishops.
\Vith respect to what had been reported to
her majesty, concerning the fruits of his
preaching in England, he was glad that his
enemies laid nothing to his charge but what
the world knew to be false. If any of them
could prove, that in any of the places
where he had resided, there was either
sedition or mutiny, he would confess him-
self to be a malefactor. So far from this
being the case, he was not ashamed to say,
that in Berwick, where bloodshed among
the soldiers had ‘formerly been common,
God so blessed his weak labours, that there
was as great quietness during the time he
resided in it, as there was at present in
Edinburgh. The slander of practising
magic (an art which he had condemned
wherever he preached,) he could more easily
bear, when he recollected that his Master,
the Lord Jesus, had been defamed as one
in league with Beelzebub. As to the book
which seemed so highly to offend her
majesty, he owned that he wrote it, and
was willing that all the learned should
judge of it.
Englishman had written against it; but he
had not read him.
confuted his arguments, and established
the contrary propositions, he would confess
He understood that an;

his error; but to that hour he continued to
think himself alone more able to sustain
the things affirmed in that work, than any
ten in Europe were to confute them.
“ You think I have no just authority,”
said the queen. “ Please your majesty,“
replied he, “learned men in all ages have
had their judgments free, and most com-
monly disagreeing from the common judg-
ment of the world; such also have they
published both with pen and tongue; not-
withstanding, they themselves had lived in
the common society with others, and have
borne patiently with the errors and imper-
fections which they could not amend.
Plato the philosopher wrote his book Of
the Commonwealth, in which he condemn-
ed many things that then were maintained
in the world, and required many things to
have been reformed; and yet notwithstand-
ing, he lived under such policies as then
were universally received, without further
troubling of any state. Even so, Madam,
am I content to do, in uprightness of heart,
and with a testimony of a good conscience.”
He added, that his sentiments on that sub—
ject should be confined to his own breast;
and that, if she refrained from persecution,
her authority would not be hurt, either by
him, or his book, “which was written most
especially against the wicked Jesabell of
England.”
“ But ye speak of women in general,”
said the queen. “ Most true it is, Madam:
yet it appeareth to me, that wisdom should
persuade your Grace never to raise trouble
for that which to this day hath not troubled
your majesty, neither in person nor in
authority; for of late years many things,
which before were held stable, have been
called in doubt; yea, they have been plainly
impugned. But yet, Madam, I am assured
: that neither protestant nor papist shall be
If he had sufiiciently i
able to prove, that any such question was
at any time moved either in public or in
secret. Now, Madam, if I had intended to



150
SCOTS WORTHIES.



have troubled your state, because ye are a
Woman, I would have chosen a time more
convenient for that purpose, than I can do
now, when your presence is within the
realm.”
Changing the subject, she charged him
with having taught the people to receive a
religion different from that allowed by their
princes; and asked, if this was not contrary
to the divine command, that subjects should
obey their rulers? He replied, that true
religion derived not its original or authority
fi"om princes, but from the eternal God;
that princes were often most ignorant of
the true religion; and that subjects were
not bound to frame their religion according
to the arbitrary will of their iulers; else
the Hebrews would have been bound to
adopt the religion of Pharaoh; Daniel and
his associates that of Nebuchadnezzar and
Darius; and the primitive Christians that
of the Roman emperors. “ Yea,” replied
the queen, qualifying her assertion; “ but
none of these men raised the sword against
their princes.” “ Yet you cannot deny,”
said he, “that they resisted; for those who
obey not the commandment given them do
in some sort resist.” “But they resisted
not with the sword,” rejoined the queen,
pressing home the argument. “ God,
Madam, had not given unto them the
power and the means.” “ Think you,”
said the queen, “that subjects, having the
power, may resist their princes?” “ If
princes exceed their bounds, Madam, no
doubt they may be resisted, even by power.
For no greater honour, or greater obedi-
ence, is to be given to kings and princes,
than God has commanded to be given to
father and mother. But the father may
be struck with a phrensy, in which he
would slay his children. Now, Madam, if
the children arise, join together, apprehend
the father, take the sword from him, bind
his hands, and keep him in prison till the

the children do any wrong?
Madam, is it with princes that would
murder the children of God that are sub-
ject unto them. Their blind zeal is no-
thing but a mad phrensy; therefore, to take
the sword from them, to bind their hands,
and to cast them into prison till they be
brought to a more sober mind, is no dis-
obedience against princes, but just obedi-
ence; because it agreeth with the will of
God.”
The queen, who had hitherto maintained
her courage in reasoning, was completely
overpowered by this bold answer: her
countenance changed, and she continued
in a silent stupor. Her brother spoke to
her, and inquired the cause of her uneasi-
ness; but she made no reply. At length,
recovering herself, she said, “ Well then, I
perceive that my subjects shall obey you,
and not me, and will do what they please,
and not what I command; and so must I
be subject to them, and not they to me.”
“ God forbid!” answered Knox, “that ever
I take upon me to command any to obey
me, or to set subjects at liberty to do what-
ever pleases them. But my travel is, that
both princes and subjects may obey God.
And think not, Madam, that wrong is done
you, when you are required to be subject
unto God; for it is he who subjects people
under princes, and causes obedience to be
given unto them. He craves of kings, that
they be as foster-fathers to his church, and
commands queens to be nurses to his
people. And this subjection, Madam, unto
God and his church, is the greatest dignity
that flesh can get upon the face of the
earth; for it shall raise them to everlasting
glory.”
“ But you are not the church that I will
nourish,” said the queen: “ I will defend
the church of Rome; for it is, I think, the
true church of God.” “ Your will, Madam,
is no reason; neither doth your thought
phre'nsy be over; think you, Madam, that i make the Roman harlot to be the true

Even so _

JOHN KNOX.
151


and immaculate spouse of Jesus Christ.
Wonder not, Madam, that I call Rome an
harlot; for that church is altogether polluted
with all kinds of spiritual fornication, both
in doctrine and manners.” He added,
that he was ready to prove that the Romish
church had declined farther from the purity
of religion taught by the apostles, than the
Jewish church had degenerated from the
ordinances which God gave them by Moses
and Aaron, at the time when they denied
and crucified the Son of God. “ My con-
science is not so,” said the queen. “ Con-
science, Madam, requires knowledge; and
I fear that right knowledge you have
none.” She said, she had both heard and
read. “ So, Madam, did the J ews who
crucified Christ; they read the law and the
prophets, and heard them interpreted after
their manner. Have you heard any teach
but such as the pope and cardinals have
allowed ?-—and you may be assured, that
such will speak nothing to offend their
own estate.”
“ You interpret the Scriptures in one
way,” said the queen evasively, “ and they
in another: whom shall I believe, and who
shall be judge T’ “ You shall believe God,
who plainly speaketh in his word,” replied
the reformer, “ and farther than the word
teacheth you, you shall believe neither the
one nor the other. The word of God is
plain in itself; if there is any obscurity in
one place, the Holy Ghost, who is never
contrary to himself, explains it more clearly
in other places, so that there can remain
no doubt, but unto such as are obstinately
ignorant.” As an example, be selected
one of the articles in controversy, that con-
cerning the sacrament of the Supper, and
proceeded to show, that the popish doctrine
of the sacrifice of the Mass was destitute of
all foundation in Scripture. But the queen,
who was determined to avoid all discussion
of the articles of her creed, interrupted
him, by saying, that she was unable to

v
4
l
I

contend with him in argument; but if she
had those present whom she had heard,
they would answer him. “ Madam,” re-
plied the reformer fervently, “would to
God that the learnedest papist in Europe,
and he whom you would best believe, were
present with your Grace to sustain the
argument, and that you would wait patiently
to hear the matter reasoned to the end!
—for then, I doubt not, Madam, but you
would hear the vanity of the papistical re-
ligion, and how little ground it hath in the
word of God.” “ Well,” said she, “ you
may perchance get that sooner than you
believe.” “ Assuredly, if ever I get that in
my life, I get it sooner than I believe; for
the ignorant papist cannot patiently reason,
and the learned and crafty papist will never
come, in your audience, Madam, to have
the ground of their religion searched out.
When you shall let me see the contrary, 1
shall grant myself to have been deceived in
that point.” The hour after dinner afford-
ed an occasion for breaking off this singular
conversation; and at taking leave of her
majesty, the reformer said, “ I pray God,
Madam, that you may be as blessed within
the commonwealth of Scotland, as ever De-
borah was in the commonwealth of Israel.”
The reformer was not ignorant that
some of his friends thought him too severe
in his language, but he was persuaded that
the times required the utmost plainness;
and he was afraid that snares lurked
under the smoothness which was re
commended and practised by courtiers.
The abatement of zeal which he dreaded
fi~om “ the holy water of the court,” soon
began to appear among the protestant
leaders. The General Assemblies of the
church were a great eyesore to the queen,
who was very desirous to have them put
down. At the first Assembly after her
arrival, the courtiers, through her influence,
absented themselves, and, when challenged
for this, began to dispute the propriety of


152
SCOTS WORTHIES.



such conventions without her majesty’s
pleasure. On this point, there was sharp
reasoning between Knox and Maitland,
who was now made secretary of state.
“ Take from us the liberty of assemblies,
-—and take from us the gospel,” said the
reformer. “ If the liberty of the church
must depend upon her allowance or dis—
allowance, we shall want not only assem-
blies, but also the preaching of the gospel.”
He was still more indignant at their man-
agement in settling the provision for the
ministers of the church. Hitherto they
had lived mostly on the benevolence of
their hearers, and many of them had
scarcely the means of subsistence; but
repeated complaints having obliged the
privy council to take up the affair, they
came at last to a determination, that the
ecclesiastical revenues should be divided
into three parts ; that two of these should
be given to the ejected popish clergy; and
that the other part should be divided be-
tween the court and the protestant minis-
try I The persons appointed to modify the
stipends were disposed to gratify the queen ;
and the sums allotted to the ministers were
as ill paid as they were paltry and inade-
quate. “ We all!” exclaimed Knox, when
he heard of this disgraceful arrangement,
“ if the end of this ordour, pretendit to be
takin for sustentatioun of the ministers, be
happie, my judgement failes me. I sie twa
pairtis fieelie gevin to the devil], and the
thrid mon be devyded betwix God and the
devill. Quho wald have thocht, that quhen
Joseph reulled in Egypt, his brethren sould
have travellit for victualles; and have re-
turned with emptie sackes unto thair
families ? O happie servands of the devil],
and miserabill servands of Jesus Christ,
if efter this lyf thair wer not hell and
heavin !”
He vented his mind more freely on this
subject, as his complaints could not be im-
puted to personal motives; for his own

stipend, though moderate, was liberal when
compared with those of the most of his
brethren. From the time of his last return
to Scotland, until the conclusion of the
war, he had been indebted to the liberality
of individuals for the support of his family.
After that period, he lodged for some time
in the house of David Forrest, a burgess
of Edinburgh, from which he removed to
the lodging which had belonged to Durie,
abbot of Dunfermline. As soon as he
began to preach statedly in the city, the
town council assigned him an annual
stipend of two hundred pounds, to be paid
quarterly; besides discharging his house-
rent, and re-imbursing some individuals the
money which they had expended in main~
taining his family. Subsequent to the
settlement made by the privy council, it
would seem that he received his stipend
fi~om the common fund, allotted to the
ministers of the church; but the good
town had still an opportunity of testifying
their generosity, by supplying the deficien-
cies of the legal allowance. Indeed, the
uniform attention of the town council to
his external accommodation and comfort
was honourable to them, and deserves to
be recorded to their commendation.
In the beginning of the year 1562, he
went to Angus to preside in the election
and admission of John Erskine of Dun as
superintendent of Angus and Mearns. That
respectable baron was one of those whom
the first general assembly declared “apt
and able to minister ;” and having already
contributed in different ways to the advance-
ment of the reformation, he now devoted
himself to the service of the church, in a
laborious employment, at a time when she
stood eminently in need of the assistance
of all the learned and pious. Knox had
formerly presided at the installation of
John Spottiswood, as superintendent of
Lothian.
The influence of our reformer appears


JOHN
KNOX. 153




from his being employed on different occa-
sions to compose variances of a civil nature,
which arose among the protestants. He
was applied to frequently, to intercede with
the town council in behalf of some of the
inhabitants, who had subjected themselves
to punishment by their disorderly conduct.
In March, this year, the earl of Bothwell
urged him to assist in removing a deadly
feud which subsisted between him and the
earl of Arran. He was averse to interfere
in this business, which had already baffled
the authority of the privy council; but, at
the desire of some fiiends, he yielded, and,
after considerable pains, had the satisfaction
of bringing the parties to an amicable in-
terview, at which they mutually promised
to bury all differences. But he was ex-
ceedingly mortified by the information
which Arran, immediately on the back of
this agreement, communicated to him, of a
conspiracy which Bothwell had proposed
to him, which produced the imprisonment
of both ; and, notwithstanding the lunacy of
the informer, created great jealousies in the
minds of the principal courtiers.
In the month of May, Knox had another
interview with the queen, on the following
occasion. The family of Guise were at this
time making the most vigorous efforts to
regain that influence in France which they
had been deprived of since the death of
Francis II.; and, as zeal for the catholic
religion was the cloak by which they cover-
ed their ambitious designs, they began by
stirring up persecution against the pro-
testants. The massacre of Vassy, in the
beginning of March, this year, was a pre—
lude to this; in which the duke of Guise
and cardinal of Lorraine attacked, with an
armed force, a congregation assembled for
worship, killed a number of them, and
wounded and mutilated others, not except-
ing women and children. Intelligence of
the success which attended the measures of
her uncles was brought to queen Mary,
who immediately after gave a splendid ball
to her foreign servants, at which the
dancing was prolonged to a late hour.
Knox was advertised of the festivities in
the palace, and the occasion of them. He
always felt a lively interest in the concerns
of the French protestants, with many of
whom he was intimately acquainted; and
he entertained a very bad opinion of the
princes of Lorraine. In his sermon on the
following Sabbath, he introduced some
severe strictures upon the vices to which
princes were addicted, their oppression,
ignorance, hatred to virtue, attachment to
bad company, and fondness for foolish
pleasures. Information of this discourse
was quickly conveyed to the queen, with
many exaggerations; and the preacher was
next day ordered to attend at the palace.
Being conveyed into the royal chamber,
where the queen sat with her maids of
honour and principal counsellors, he was
accused of having spoken of her majesty
irreverently, and in such a manner as to
bring her under the contempt and hatred
of her subjects.
After the queen had made a long speech
on that theme, he was allowed to state his
defence. He told her majesty, that she had
been treated as persons usually were who
refused to attend the preaching of the
word of God: she had been obliged to
trust to the false reports of fiatterers; for,
if she had heard the calumniated discourse,
he did not believe she could have been
offended with anything that he had said.
She would now, therefore, be pleased to
hear him repeat, as exactly as he could,
what he had preached yesterday. Having
done this, he added, “ If any man, Madam,
will say, that I spake more, let him pre-
sently accuse me.” Several of the company

,the sermon.
round to the informers, who were dumb,
:told him, that his words, though sharp
;l attested that he had given a just report of
The queen, after turning
U
L. __

154
SCOTS WORTHIES.


enough as related by himself, were report-
ed to her .in a different way. She added,
that she knew that her uncles and he were
of a different religion, and therefore did not
blame him for having‘ no good opinion of
them; but if he heard anything about her
conduct which displeased him, he should
come to herself, and she would be willing
to hear him. Knox easily saw through the
artifice of this fair proposal. He replied,
that he was willing to do anything for her i
majesty’s contentment, which was con»-
sistent with his office ; if her Grace choosed
to attend the public sermons, she would
hear what pleased or displeased him in her
and in others; or if she pleased to appoint
a time when she would hear the substance
of the doctrine which he preached in public,
he would most gladly wait upon her Grace’s
pleasure, time, and place ; but to come and
wait at her chamber-door, and then to
have liberty only to whisper in her ear
what people thought and said of her, that
would neither his conscience nor his office
permit him to do. “ For,” he added, in a
strain which he sometimes used even on
serious occasions, “ albeit at your Grace’s
commandment, I am heir now, yit can I
not tell quhat uther men shall judge of
me, that, at this tyme of day, am absent
from my buke, and waiting upoun the
court.” “ Ye will not alwayes be at your
buke,” said the queen pettishly, and turned
her back. As he left the room “with a
reasonable merry countenance,” some of
the popish attendants said in his hearing,
“ He is not afraid !” “ Why sould the
plesing face of a gentilwoman affray me '2?”
said he, regarding them with a sarcastic
scowl, “ I have luiked in the faces of mony
angry men, and yet have not bene affrayed
above measour.”
There was at this time but one place of
worship in the city of Edinburgh. The
number of inhabitants was indeed small,
when compared with its present population;

I
but still they must have formed a very
large congregation. The place used for
worship in St Giles’ church was capacious:
on some occasions, three thousand persons
assembled in it to hear sermon. In this
church, Knox had, since 1560, performed
all the parts of ministerial duty, without
any other assistant but John Cairns, who
acted as reader. He preached twice every
Sabbath, and thrice on other days of the
week. He met regularly once every week
I with the session of the parish, for discipline;
and with the assembly of the neighbour-
hood, for the exercise on the scriptures.
He attended, besides, the meetings of the
provincial synod, and general assembly;
and at almost every meeting of the last-
mentioned court, he received an appoint—
ment to visit and preach in some distant
part of the country. These labours must
have been oppressive to a constitution
which was already impaired ; especially as
he did not indulge in extemporaneous effu-
sions, but devoted a part of every day to
study. His parish were sensible of this;
and, in April, 1562, the town council came
to an unanimous resolution to solicit John
Craig, the minister of Canongate, or Holy-
roodhouse, to undertake the half of the
charge. The ensuing general assembly
approved of the council’s proposal, and
appointed Craig to remove to Edinburgh.
His translation did not, however, take
place before June, 1563, owing, as it would
seem, to the difficulty of obtaining an addi-
tional stipend.
During the autumn of 1562, the Roman
catholics entertained great hopes of a
change in their favour. After several
unsuccessful attempts to cut off the prin-
cipal protestant courtiers, the earl of
Huntly openly took arms in the north, to
rescue the queen from their hands; while
the archbishop of St Andrews endeavoured
to unite and reuse the papists of the south.
On this occasion, our reformer acted with


JOHN KNOX. ' 155


his usual zeal and foresight. Being ap- and inveighed against the idleness and
pointed by the general assembly as com- corruption of the clergy. At an age when
missioner to visit the churches of the west, others retire from the field, he began to
he persuaded the gentlemen of that quarter rub up his long neglected theological wea-
to enter into a new bond of defence. pons, and to gird on his armour.
Hastening into Galloway and Nithsdale, His first appearance was in 1558, when
he, by his sermons and conversation, con- he published a short system of catholic
firmed the protestants of these places. He tactics, under the title of Ane Compendious
employed the master of Maxwell to Write Tractive, showing “the nerrest and onlie
to the earl of Bothwell, who had escaped Way” to establish the conscience of a
from confinement, and meant, it was feared, Christian man, in all matters which were
to join Huntly. He himself Wrote to the in debate concerning faith and religion.
duke of Chatelherault, warning him not to This Way Was no other than that of implicit
listen to the solicitations of his brother, faith in the decisions of the church or
the archbishop, nor accede to a conspiracy clergy. The Scripture was only a witness;
which would infallibly prove the ruin of the church was the judge, in every contro-
his house. By these means, the southern Vcrsy, whose determinations, in general
parts of the kingdom were preserved in a councils canonically assembled, were to be
state of peace, while the vigorous measures humbly received and Submitted to by all
of the council crushed the rebellion in the “E116 faithful. This Was no doubt the most
north. The queen expressed little satisfac- Compendious and nearest way of establish-
tion at the Victory’ and there is every the COIlSCiGI’lCG Of every ChTiStlEtIl man,
reason to think’ that she Was not privy and every controversy which might
to the rising of Huntly, she expected to arise, without examination, reasoning, and
turn it to the advancement of her projects. debate.
She scrupled not to say, at this time, that But, as the stubborn reformers would
she “ hoped, before a year was expired, to not submit to this easy and short mode of
have the mass and catholic profession re- decision, the abbot was reluctantly obliged
stored through the whole kingdom.” to enter the lists of argument with them.
While these hopes were indulged, the Accordingly, when Willock preached in
popish clergy thought it necessary to gain his neighbourhood, in the beginning of
credit to their cause, by appearing more 1559, he challenged him to a dispute on
openly in defence of their tenets than they the sacrifice of the mass. The challenge
had lately done. They began to preach was accepted—the time and place were
publicly, and boasted that they were ready fixed; but the abbot refused to appear,
to dispute with the protestant ministers, unless his antagonist would previously en-
The person who stepped forward as their gage to submit to the interpretations of
champion was Quintin Kennedy, uncle of ‘ Scripture which had been given by the
the earl of Cassilis, and abbot of Crossra- ancient doctors of the church. From this
guel. The abbot appears to have spent time he seems to have made the mass the

negligence of the duties of his office with to qualify himself for defending this key-
the rest of his brethren; but he was roused , stone of the popish arch.
from his inactivity by the success of the 3 George Hay having been sent by the
protestant preachers, who, in the years ' general assembly to preach in Carrick and
i 1556 and 1557, attacked the popish faith, _ Cunningham, during the autumn of 1562,

the greater part of his life in the same great subject of his study, and endeavoured‘



156
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Kennedy offered to dispute with him ; but
no meeting took place between them. On
the 30th of August, the abbot read in his
chapel of Kirk Oswald, a number of articles
respecting the mass, purgatory, praying to
saints, the use of images, &c., which he
said he would defend against any who
should impugn them, and promised to
declare his mind more fully respecting
them on the following Sunday. Knox,
who was in the vicinity, came to Kirk
Oswald on that day, with the design of
hearing the abbot, and granting him the
disputation which he had courted. The
abbot not making his appearance, he him-
self preached in the chapel. When he
came down from the pulpit, there was a
letter from Kennedy put into his hand,
stating, that he understood he had come
to that country to seek disputation, and
offering to meet with him on the following
Sunday in any house in Maybole, provided
there were not more than twenty persons
on each side admitted. Knox replied, that
he had come, not purposely to dispute, but
to preach the gospel: he was, however,
Willing to meet with him ; he was under a
previous engagement to be in Dumfries on
the day mentioned by the abbot; but if he
sent him his articles, he would, with all
convenient speed, return and fix a time.
A correspondence was carried on between
them on this subject, which is fiilly as
curious as the dispute which ensued. Knox
Wished that his reasoning should be as
public as the abbot had made his articles,
and proposed that it should take place in
St J ohn’s church in Ayr; but the abbot
refused to dispute publicly. The earl of
Cassilis wrote to Knox, expressing his
disapprobation of the proposed disputation,
as unlikely to do any good, and calculated
to endanger the public peace; to which
the reformer replied, by signifying, that his
relation had given the challenge, which he
was resolved not to decline, and that his

lordship ought to encourage him to keep
the appointment, from which no bad effects
were to be dreaded. Upon this, the abbot,
feeling his honour touched, wrote a letter
to the reformer, in which he told him that
he would have “ rencountered” him the
last time he was in the country, had it not
been for the interposition of the earl of
Cassilis, and charged him with stirring up
his nephew to write that letter, in order to
bring him into disgrace. “ Ye sal be
assured,” says he, “ I sal keip day and
place in Mayboill, according to my writing,
and I haif my life, and my feit louse ;” and
in another letter to Knox and the bailies
of Ayr, he says, “keip your promes, and
pretex na joukrie, be my lorde of Cassilis
writing.” The abbot being in this state of
mind, the conditions of the combat were
speedily settled. They agreed to meet on
the 28th of September, at eight o’clock,
ante wwridicm, in the house of the provost
of Maybole. Forty persons on each side
were to be admitted as witnesses of the
dispute, with “ as many me as the house
might goodly hold, at the sight of my lord
of Cassilis.” And notaries or scribes were
appointed to record the papers which might
be given in by the parties, and the argu-
ments which they advanced in the course
of reasoning, to prevent unnecessary repe-
tition, or a false report of the proceedings.
These conditions were formally subscribed
by the abbot and the reformer, on the day
preceding the meeting.
They met and disputed for three days.
On the third, Knox proposed that they
should adjourn to Ayr, and finish the dis-
pute, which was refused by the abbot, who
said he would come to Edinburgh for that
purpose, provided he could obtain the
queen’s permission. Upon this the com-
pany dismissed.
In the beginning of 1563, Knox went to
j J edburgh, by appointment of the general
jassembly, to investigate a scandal which




JOHN KNOX.
157

had broken out against Paul Methven, the
minister of that place, who was suspected
of adultery. The accused was found
guilty, and excommunicated. He fled to
England; but having afterwards returned
and offered to submit to the discipline of;
the church, a severe and humiliating
course of public repentance was prescribed
to him. He went through a part of it,
with professions of deep sorrow; but over-
whelmed with shame, or despairing to re-
gain his lost reputation, he stopped in the
midst of it, and again retired to England.
In the month of May, the queen sent
for Knox to Lochleven. The popish
priests, presuming upon her avowed par-
tiality to them, and secret promises of pro-
tection, had of late become more bold, and
during the late Easter, masses had been
openly celebrated in the different parts of
the kingdom. The queen 'in council had
issued various proclamations against this;
but as the execution had hitherto been left
to her, nothing had followed upon them.
The protestants of the west, who were the
most zealous, perceiving that the laws were
eluded, resolved to execute them, without
making any application to the court, and
apprehended some of the offenders by way
of example. These decided proceedings
highly offended the queen, as they were
calculated to defeat the scheme of policy
which she had formed; but finding that the
signification of her displeasure had not the
effect of stopping them, she wished to avail
herself of the reformer’s
accomplishing her purpose.
She dealt with him very earnestly, for
two hours before supper, to persuade the
western gentlemen to desist from all inter-
ruption of the catholic worship. He told
her majesty, that if she would exercise her
authority in executing the laws of the land,
influence for
he could promise for the peaceable beha-
viour of the protestants ; but if her majesty
thought to elude them, he feared there
_ not love him.



were some who would let the papists
understand that they should not offend
with impunity. “ \Vill ye allow that they
‘shall take my sword in their hands?” said
the queen. “ The sword of justice is
God’s,” replied the reformer with equal
firmness, “ and is given to princes and rul-
ers for one end, which if they transgress,
sparing the wicked and oppressing the
innocent; they who, in the fear of God,
execute judgment where God has com-
manded, offend not God, although kings do
it not.” He added, that the gentlemen of
the west were acting strictly according to
law; for the act of parliament gave power
to all judges within their bounds, to search
for and punish those who should transgress
its enactments. He concluded with ad-
vising her majesty to consider the terms of
the mutual contract between her and her
subjects, and that she could not expect to
receive obedience from them, if she did not
grant unto them protection, and the exe-
cution of justice. The queen broke off the
conversation with evident marks of dis-
pleasure.
Having communicated what had passed
between them to the earl of Moray,
(which was the title now conferred on the
prior of St Andrews,) Knox meant to re-
turn to Edinburgh next day, without wait—
ing for any further communication with
the queen. But a message was delivered
him early in the morning, desiring him not
to depart until he had again spoken to her
majesty. He accordingly met with her
west from Kinross, where she took the
amusement of hawking. This interview
was very different from that of the preced-
ing evening. \Vaving entirely the subject
on which they had differed, she introduced
a variety of topics, upon which she con-
versed with the greatest familiarity and
apparent confidence. Lord Buthven, she
said, had offered her a ring; but she could
She knew that he used en-




158
SCOTS WORTHIES.



chantment; and yet he was made one of
her privy council. Lethington, she said,
was the sole cause of that appointment.
“ I understand,” said she, introducing ano-
ther subject of discourse, “ that ye are ap-
pointed to go to Dumfries, for the election
of a superintendent to be established in
these countries. He answered in the
affirmative. “But I understand the bishop
of Athens would be superintendent.” “ He
is one, Madam, that is put in election.”
“ If you knew him as well as I do, you
would not promote him to that office, nor
yet to any other within your kirk.” Knox
said that he deceived many more than him,
if he did not fear God. “ Well, do as you
will ; but that man is a dangerous man.”
\Vhen Knox was about to take his
leave of her majesty, she pressed him to
stay. “I have one of the greatest matters
that have touched me since I came into
this realm to open to you, and I must have
your help in it,” said she, with an air of
condescension and confidence as enchant-
ing as if she had put a ring on his finger.
She then entered into a long discourse
concerning a domestic difference between
the earl of Argyle and his lady. Her lady-
ship had not, she said, been so circumspect
in everything as she could have wished,
but still she was of opinion that his lord-
ship had not treated her in an honest and
godly manner. Knox said that he was not
unacquainted with the disagreeable vari-
ance which had subsisted between that
honourable couple; and,before her majesty’s
arrival in this country, he had effected a
reconciliation. On that occasion, the
countess had promised not to complain to
any creature before acquainting him; and
as he had never heard from her, he con-
cluded that there was nothing but concord.
“ Well,” said the queen, “it is worse than
ye believe. But do this much, for my sake,
as once again to put them at unity, and if
she behave not herself as she ought to do,

she shall find no favour of me; but in any
wise let not my lord know that I have re-
quested you in this matter.” Then intro-
ducing the subject of their reasoning on
the preceding evening, she said, “I pro-
mise to do as ye required. I shall cause
summon all offenders; and ye shall know
that I shall minister justice.” “I am
assured then,” said he, “that ye shall
please God, and enjoy rest and tranquillity
within your realm, which to your majesty
is more profitable than all the pope’s power
can be.” Upon this he took his leave of
the queen.
On the 19th of May, in order to allay
the general discontent, the archbishop of
St Andrews and a number of the principal
papists were arraigned by the queen’s or-
ders, before the lord justice-general, for
transgressing the laws; but having come
in her majesty’s will, were only committed
to ward. This, however, was merely a
stroke of policy, to enable her more easily
to carry her measures in the parliament
which met on the following day. This
was the first parliament since the queen’s
arrival in Scotland; and it was very natural
to expect that they would proceed to ratify
the treaty of peace made in July 1560, and
the establishment of the protestant religion.
But so well had she laid her plans, such
was the effect of her insinuating address,
and, above all, so powerful was the tempta-
tion of self-interest on the minds of the
protestant leaders, that, by general con-
sent, they passed from this demand, and
lost the only favourable opportunity, during
the reign of Mary, for giving a legal
security to the reformed religion, and
thereby removing one principal source of
jealousies. An act of oblivion, securing
indemnity to those who had been engaged
in the late civil war, was indeed passed;
but the mode of its enactment virtually
implied the invalidity of the treaty in
which it had been originally imbodied ;



JOHN
KNOX. 159



and the protestants, on their bended knees,
supplicated as a boon from their sovereign,
what they had formerly won with their
swords, and repeatedly demanded as their
right.
Knox was deeply affected with this sel-
fishness and servility of the protestant lead-
ers, and so hot was the altercation between
the earl of Moray and him on that subject,
that an open rupture ensued. He had long
looked upon that nobleman as one of the
most steady and sincere adherents to the
reformed cause ; and therefore felt the
greater disappointment at his conduct.
Under his first irritation, he wrote a letter
to the earl, in which, after reminding him
of his condition at the time when they
first became acquainted in London, and
the honours to which Providence had now
raised him, he solemnly renounced friend-
ship with him as one who preferred his
own interest and the pleasure of his sister
to the advancement of religion, left him
to the guidance of the new counsellors
which he had chosen, and exonerated him
from all future concern in his affairs.
This variance, which continued nearly two
years, was very gratifying to the queen and
others, who disliked their former familiar-
ity, and failed not, as Knox informs us, to
“ cast oil into the flame, until God did
quench it by the water of affliction.”
Before the dissolution of the parliament,
the reformer embraced an opportunity of
disburdening his mind in the presence of
the greater part of the members assembled
in his church. After discoursing of the
great mercy of God shown to Scotland, in
marvellously delivering them from bondage
of soul and body, and of the deep ingrati-
tude which he perceived in all ranks of
persons, he addressed himself particularly
to the nobility. He praised God that he
had an opportunity of pouring out the
sorrows of his heart in their presence, who
could attest the truth of all that he had

spoken. He appealed to their consciences
if he had not, in their greatest extremities
exhorted them to depend upon God, and
assured them of preservation and victory,
if they preferred his glory to their own
lives and secular interests. “ I have been
with you in your most desperate tempta-
tions,” continued he, in a strain of impas-
sioned eloquence: “ in your most extreme
dangers I have been with you. St John-
ston, Cupar-moor, and the Crags of
Edinburgh, are yet recent in my heart;
yea, that dark and dolorous night wherein
all ye, my lords, with shame and fear, left
this town, is yet in my mind, and God for-
bid that ever I forget it! WVhat was, I say,
my exhortation to you, and what has fallen
in vain of all that ever God promised unto
you by my mouth, ye yourselves yet live to
testify. There is not one of you against
whom was death and destruction threaten-
ed perished; and how many of your ene-
mies has God plagued before your eyes?
Shall this be the thankfulness that ye shall
render unto your God? To betray his
cause, when ye have it in your hands to
establish it as you please ?” He saw
nothing, he said, “ but a cowardly desertion
of Christ’s standard. Some had even the
effrontery to say that they had neither law
nor parliament for their religion. They
had the authority of God for their religion,
the truth of which was independent of
human laws ; but it was also accepted
within this realm in public parliament;
and that parliament he would maintain to
have been as lawful as any ever held in the
kingdom.”
In the conclusion of his discourse, he
adverted to the reports of her majesty’s
marriage, and the princes who courted this
alliance; and, desiring the audience to
mark his words, predicted the consequen-
ces which were to be dreaded, if ever the
nobility consented that their sovereign
should marry a papist-


160
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Protestants as well as papists were
offended with the freedom of this sermon,
and some who had been most familiar with
the preacher now shunned his company.
Flatterers were not wanting to run to the
queen, and inform her that John Knox
had preached against her marriage. After
surmounting the opposition to her mea-
sures, and managing so successfully the
haughty and independent barons of her
kingdom, Mary was incensed that there
should yet be one man of obscure con-
dition, who ventured to condemn her pro-
ceedings; and as she could not tame his
stubbornness, she determined to punish his
temerity. Knox was ordered instantly to
appear before her. Lord Ochiltree, with
several other gentlemen, accompanied him
to the palace; but the superintendent of
Angus alone was allowed to go with him
into the royal presence.
Her majesty received him in a very dif-
ferent manner from what she had done at
Lochleven. Never had prince been han-
dled, she passionately exclaimed, as she
was: she had borne with him in all his
rigorous speeches against herself and her
uncles; she had sought his favour by all
means ; she had offered unto him audience
whenever he pleased to admonish her.
“ And yet,” said she, “ I cannot he quit of
you. I vow to God I shall be once re-
venged.”-—On pronouncing these words
with great violence, she burst into a flood
of tears which interrupted her speech.
When the queen had composed herself, he
proceeded calmly to make his defence.
Her Grace and he had, he said, at different
times been engaged in controversy, and he
never before perceived her offended with
him. When it should please God to de-
liver her from the bondage of error in
which she had been trained through want
of instruction in the truth, he trusted that
her majesty would not find the liberty of
his tongue offensive.

Out of the pulpit he
thought few had occasion to be offended
with him; but there he was not master of
himself, but bound to obey him who com-
manded him to speak plainly, and to flatter
no flesh on the face of the earth.
“But what have you to do with my
marriage r?” said the queen. He was pro-
ceeding to state the extent of his commis-
sion as a preacher, and the reasons which
led him to touch on that delicate subject;
but she interrupted him by repeating her
question; “ What have ye to do with my
marriage ? Or what are you in this com-
monwealth ?”—“ A subject born within
the same, Madam,” replied the reformer,
piqued by the last question, and the con-
temptuous tone in which it was proposed.
“ And albeit I be neither earl, lord, nor
baron in it, yet has God made me (how
abject that ever I be in your eyes) a pro-
fitable member within the same. Yea,
Madam, to me it appertains no less to fore-
warn of such things as may hurt it, if I
foresee them, than it doth to any of the
nobility; for both my vocation and con-
science requires plainness of me. And
therefore, Madam, to yourself I say that
which I spake in public place: ‘Whenso-
ever the nobility of this realm shall con-
sent that ye be subject to an unfaithful
husband, they do as much as in them lieth
to renounce Christ, to banish his truth
from them, to betray the freedom of this
realm, and perchance shall in the end do
small comfort to yourself.’ ” At these
words, the queen began again to weep and
sob with great bitterness. The superin-
tendent, who was a man of mild and gen-
tle spirit, tried to mitigate her grief and
resentment; he praised her beauty and her
accomplishments ; and told her, that there
was not a prince in Europe who would not
reckon himself happy in gaining her hand.
During this scene, the severe and inflexi-



JOHN KNOX.
161



blt mind of the reformer displayed itself.
He continued silent, and with unaltered
countenance, until the queen had given
vent to her feelings. He then protested,
that he never took delight in the distress
of any creature ; it was with great difficulty
that he could see his own boys weep when
he corrected them for their faults, far less
could he rejoice in her majesty’s tears: but
seeing he had given her no just reason of
offence, and had only discharged his duty,
he was constrained, though unwillingly, to
sustain her tears, rather than hurt his con-
science, and betray the commonwealth
through his silence.
This apology inflamed the queen still
more ; she ordered him immediately to
leave her presence, and wait the significa-
tion of her pleasure in the adjoining room.
There he stood as “one whom men had
never seen ;” all his friends (lord Ochiltree
excepted,) being afiiaid to show him the
smallest countenance. In this situation he
addressed himself to the court-ladies, who
sat in their richest dress in the chamber.
" O fair ladies, how plesing war this lyfe of
yours, if it sould ever abyde, and then, in
the end, that we might pas to hevin with
all this gay gear!” Having engaged them
in a conversation, he passed the time till
Erskine came and informed him, that he
was allowed to go home until her majesty
had taken further advice. The queen in-
sisted to have the judgment of the lords of
articles, whether the words he had used in
the pulpit were not actionable; but she
was persuaded to desist from a prosecu-
tion. “ And so that storme quietit in ap-
pearance, bot nevir in the hart.”
During the queen’s residence at Stirling,
in the month of August, the domestics,
whom she had left behind her in Holy-
roodhouse, celebrated the popish worship
with greater publicity than had been usual
when she herself was present; and at the
time when the sacrament of the Supper

was dispensed in Edinburgh, they revived
certain superstitious practices which had
been laid aside by the Roman catholics
since the establishment of the reformation.
This boldness offended the protestants,
and some of them went down to the palace
to mark the inhabitants who repaired to
the service. Perceiving numbers entering,
they burst into the chapel ; and presenting
themselves at the altar, which was ‘pre-
pared for mass, asked the priest, how he
durst be so malapert as to proceed in that
manner, when the queen was absent.
Alarmed at this intrusion, the mistress of
the household despatched a messenger to
the comptroller, who was attending sermon
in St Giles’s church, desiring him to come
instantly to save her life and the palace.
Having hurried down, accompanied with
the magistrates, and a guard, the comp-
troller found everything quiet and no ap-
pearance of tumult, except what was occa-
sioned by the company which he brought
along with him. When the report of this
affair was conveyed to the queen, she
declared her resolution not to return to
Edinburgh unless this riot was punished,
and indicted two of the protestants, who
had been most active, to stand trial “ for
forethought felony, hamesuckin, and inva-
sion of the palace.” Fearing that she
intended to proceed to extremities against
these men, and that their condemnation
was a preparative to some hostile attempts
against their religion, the protestants in
Edinburgh resolved that Knox, agreeably
to a commission, should write a circular
letter to the principal gentlemen of their
persuasion, informing them of the circum-
stances, and requesting their presence on
the day of trial. He wrote the letter
according to their request. A copy of it
having come into the hands of Sinclair,
bishop of Ross, and president of the court
of session, who was a great personal enemy
to Knox, he conveyed it immediately to



t_
x
162
SCOTS WORTHIES.






the queen at Stirling. She communicated
it to the privy council, who, to her great
satisfaction, pronounced it treasonable;
but to give the greater solemnity to the
proceedings, it was resolved that an extra--
ordinary convention of the counsellors and
other noblemen should be called to meet
at Edinburgh, in the end of December,
to try the cause. The reformer was
summoned to appear before this con-
vention.
On the day appointed for the trial,
the public anxiety was greatly raised, and
the palace-yard, with all the avenues, was
crowded with people, who waited to learn
the result. The pannel was conducted to
the chamber in which the lords were
already assembled, and engaged in consul-
tation. When the queen had taken her
seat, and perceived Knox standing uncover-
ed at the foot of the table, she burst into a
loud fit of laughter. “ That man,” she
said, “had made her weep, and shed never
a tear himself; she would now see if she
could make him weep.” The secretary
opened the proceedings, by stating in a
speech addressed to the reformer, the rea-
sons why the queen had convened him be-
fore her nobility. “ Let him acknowledge
his own hand-writing,” said the queen,
“ and then we shall judge of the contents
of the letter.” A copy of the circular
letter being handed to him, he looked at
the subscription, and said that it was his ;
and though he had subscribed a number of
blanks, he had such confidence in the
fidelity of the scribe, that he was ready to
acknowledge both the subscription and the
contents. “ You have done more than I
would have done,” said Maitland. “ Cha-
rity is not suspicious,” replied the other.
“ Well, well,” said the queen, “read your
own letter, and then answer to such things
as shall be demanded of you.” “ I will do
the best I can,” said he ; and having read
the letter with an audible voice, returned

it to the queen’s advocate, who was com-
manded to accuse him.
“ Heard you ever, my lords, a more
despiteful and treasonable letter?” said the
queen, looking round the table. “ Mr
Knox, are you not sorry fi~om your heart,
and do you not repent that such a letter
has passed your pen, and from you has
come to the knowledge of others?” said
Maitland. “ My lord secretary, before I
repent, I must be taught my offence.”—-
“ Offence ! if there were no more but the
convocation of the queen’s lieges, the
offence cannot be denied.”——“ Remember
yourself, my lord, there is a difference
between a lawful convocation and an un-
lawful. If I have been guilty in this, I
offended oft since I came last into Scotland;
for what convocation of the brethren has
ever been to this hour, unto which my pen
served not ?”—~“ Then was then, and now
is now,” said the secretary; “ we have no
need of such convocations as sometimes we
have had.”—“ The time that has been is
even now before my eyes,” rejoined the
reformer; “ for I see the poor flock in no
less danger than it has been at any time
before, except that the devil has got a vizor
upon his face. Before, he came in with
his own face, discovered by open tyranny,
seeking the destruction of all that refused
idolatry; and then, I think, you will con-
fess the brethren lawfully assembled them-
selves for defence of their lives; and now,
the devil comes under the cloak of justice,
to do that which God would not suffer him
to do by strength”—
“ What is this ?” interrupted her ma-
jesty, who was offended that the pannel
should be allowed such liberty of speech,
and thought that she could bring him
more closely to the question. “ ‘What is
this '3 Methinks you trifle with him. Who
gave him authority to make convocation
of my lieges? Is not that treason?” “ No,
Madam,” replied lord Ruthven, displeased


JOHN KNOX.
163


at the active keenness which the queen
showed in the cause; “ for he makes con-
vocation of the people to hear prayer and
sermon almost daily; and whatever your
Grace or others will think thereof, we think
it no treason.”—“ Hold your peace,” said
the queen ; “ and let him make answer for
himself.”——“ I began, Madam,” resumed
Knox, “ to reason with the secretary
(whom I take to be a better dialectician
than your Grace) that all convocations are
not unlawful; and now my lord Ruthven
has given the instance.”—“ I will say
nothing against your religion, nor against
your convening to your sermons ; but what
authority have you to eonvocate my sub-
jects when you will, without my command-
ment ?” He answered, that at his own
will he had never convened four persons in
Scotland; but at the orders of his brethren
he had given many advertisements, and
great multitudes had assembled; and if
her Grace complained that this had been
done without her command, he would
answer, so was all that had been done as
to the reformation of religion in this king-
dom. He must, therefore, be convicted by
a just law, before he would profess sorrow
for what he had done. He thought he had
done no Wrong.
“ You shall not escape so,” said the
queen. “ Is it not treason, my lords, to
accuse a prince of cruelty ? I think there
be acts of parliament against such whisper-
ers.” Several of their lordships said that
there were such laws. “ But wherein can
I be accused of this ’?”—-“ Read this part
of your own bill,” 'said the queen, who
showed herself an acute prosecutor. She
then caused the following sentence to be
read from his letter. “ This fearful sum-
mons is directed against them [the two
persons who were indicted], to make no
doubt a preparative on a few, that a door
may be opened to execute cruelty upon a
greater multitude.”——“ Lo !” exclaimed the

queen exultingly ; “ what say you to
that ?” The eyes of the assembly were
fixed on the pannel, anxious to know
what answer he would make to this
charge.
“ Is it lawful for me, Madam, to answer
for myself? or, shall I be condemned un-
heard ?”-—“ Say what you can; for I think
you have enough to do.”—“ I will first then
desire of your Grace, Madam, and of this
most honourable audience, \Vhether yotu'
Grace knows not, that the obstinate papists
are deadly enemies to all such as profess
the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they
most earnestly desire the extermination of
them, and of the true doctrine that is
taught within this realm ?”——The queen
was silent: but the lords, with one voice,
exclaimed, “ God forbid, that ever the lives
of the faithful, or yet the staying of the
doctrine, stood in the power of the papists!
for just experience has taught us what
cruelty lies in their hearts.”—-“ I must
proceed, then,” said the reformer. “ See-
ing that I perceive that all will grant, that
it were a barbarous thing to destroy such
a multitude as profess the gospel of Christ
within this realm, which oftener than once
or twice they have attempted to do by
force,—they, by God and by his providence
being disappointed, have invented more
crafty and dangerous practices ; to wit, to
make the prince a party under colour of
law; and so what they could not do by
open force, they shall perform by crafty
deceit. For who thinks, my lords, that the
insatiable cruelty of the papists (within
this realm I mean,) shall end in the mur-
dering of these two brethren, now unjustly
summoned, and more unjustly to be ac-
cused?—And therefore, Madam, cast up,
when you list, the acts of your parliament;
I have offended nothing against them; for
I accuse not, in my letter, your Grace, nor
yet your nature, of cruelty. But I afiirm
yet again, that the pestilent papists, who



164
SCOTS WORTHIES.





have inflamed your Grace against these
poor men at this present, are the sons of
the devil, and therefore must obey the de-
sires of their father, who has been a liar
and manslayer from the beginning.”—
“ You forget yourself! you are not now in
the pulpit,” said one of the lords. “ I am
in the place where I am demanded of con-
science to speak the truth; and therefore
the truth I speak, impugn it whoso list.”
He added, again addressing the queen, that
persons who appeared to be of honest,
gentle, and meek natures, had often been
corrupted by wicked counsel; that the
papists who had her car were dangerous
counsellors, and such her mother had found
them to be.
Mary perceiving that nothing was to be
gained by reasoning, began to upbraid him
with his harsh behaviour to her, at their
last interview. He spake “fair enough” at
present before the lords, she said, but on
that occasion he caused her to shed many
salt tears, and said, “he set not by her
weeping.” This drew from him a vindica-
tion of his conduct, in which he gave a
narration of that conference. After this,
the secretary having spoken with the
queen, told Knox that he was at liberty to
return home for that night. “I thank
God, and the queen’s majesty,” said he.
When Knox had withdrawn, the judg-
ment of the nobility was taken respecting
his conduct. All of them, with the excep-
tion of the immediate dependents of the
court, voted, that he was not guilty of any
breach of the laws. The secretary, who
had assured the queen of his condemna-
tion, was enraged at this decision. He
brought her majesty, who had retired be-
fore the vote, again into the room, and
proceeded to call the votes a second time
in her presence. This attempt to overawe
them incensed the nobility. “ What !” said
they, “ shall the laird of Lethington have
power to control us? or shall the pre-

sence of a woman cause us to offend God,
and to condemn an innocent man, against
our consciences ?” \Vith this they repeated
their votes, absolving him from all offence,
and praising his modest appearance and
judicious defences.
Mary was unable to conceal her morti-
fication and displeasure, at this unexpected
acquittal. When the bishop of Ross, who
had been the informer, gave his vote on
the same side with the rest, she taunted
him openly in the presence of the court
“ Trouble not the child I I pray you trou-
ble him not! for he is newly awakened out
of his sleep. Why should not the old fbol
follow the footsteps of those that passed
before him '2” The bishop replied coldly,
that her majesty might easily know, that
his vote was not influenced by partiality to
the accused. “ That nicht was nyther
dancing nor fiddeling in the court; the
madam was disappoynted of hir purpose,
quhilk was to have had J ohne Knox in hir
will, be vote of hir nobility.”
The indignation of the queen at the re-
former’s escape from punishment did not
soon abate, and the effects of it fell both
upon the courtiers who had voted for his
exculpation, and upon those who had op-
posed it. The earl of Moray was among
the former; Maitland among the latter.
In order to appease her, they again
attempted to persuade him to condescend
to some voluntary submission to her; and
they engaged that all the punishment
which should be inflicted on him would
merely be to go within the walls of the
castle, and return again to his own house.
But he refused to make any such com-
pliances, by which he would throw dis-
credit on the judgment of the nobility who
had acquitted him, and confess himself
to have been a mover of sedition. Dis-
appointed in this, they endeavoured to in-
jure him by whispers and detraction, circu-
lating that he had no authority from his



_ __.. __'————-
JOHN
KNOX. I65




brethren for what he had done; and that
he arrogated a papal and arbitrary power
over the Scottish church, issuing his let-
ters, and exacting obedience to them.
These charges were very groundless and
injurious; for there never was perhaps any
one who had as much influence, that was
so careful in avoiding all appearance of
assuming superiority over his brethren, or
acting by his own authority, in matters of
public and common concern.
In the general assembly which met in
the close of this year, he declined taking
any share in the debates.
principal business was settled, he requested
liberty to speak on an affair which con-
cerned himself. He stated what he had
done in writing the late circular letter, the
proceedings to which it had given rise, and
the surmises which were still circulated to
his prejudice ; and insisted that the church
should now examine his conduct in that
matter, and particularly that they should
declare whether or not they had given him
a commission to advertise the brethren,
when he foresaw any danger threatening
their religion, or any difficult case which
required their advice. The courticrs
strenuously opposed the decision of this
question; but it was taken up, and the
assembly, by a great majority, found that
he had been burthened with such a com-
mission, and, in the advertisement which
he had lately given, had not gone beyond
the bounds of his commission.
Knox had remained a widower upwards
of three years. But in March, 1564, he
contracted a second marriage with Mar-
garet Stewart, daughter of lord Ochiltree,
a nobleman of amiable dispositions, who
had been long familiar with our reformer,
and steadily adhered to him when he was
deserted by his other fiiends. She con-
tinued to discharge the duties of a wife to
him, with pious and affectionate assiduity,
until the time of his death. The popish
When their .
writers, who envied the honours of the
Scottish reformer, have represented this
marriage as a proof of his great ambition;
and, in the excess of their spleen, have
ridiculously imputed to him the project of
aiming to raise his progeny to the throne of
Scotland; because the family of Ochiltree
were of the blood royal ! They are quite
clear, too, that he gained the heart of the
young lady by means of sorcery, and the
assistance of the devil. But it seems, that
powerful as his black-footed second was,
he could not succeed in another attempt
which he had previously made; for the
same writers inform us, that he had paid
his addresses to the lady Fleming, eldest
daughter to the duke of Chatelherault,



and was repulsed.
In the month of August, Knox went,
by appointment of the general assembly,
as visitor of the churches in Aberdeen and
the north, where he remained six or seven
weeks. The subsequent assembly gave him
a similar appointment to Fife and Perth-
shire.
Our reformer’s predictions at the last
meeting of parliament were now fully rea-
lized. Another parliament was held in
the end of 1564; but nothing was done for
securing the protestant religion. The
queen’s marriage approached, and the
lords demanded this as the condition of
their consent; but she artfully evaded the
demand, and accomplished her object. -
While she was arranging her plans for the
marriage, she sent for the superintendents
of Lothian, Glasgow, and Fife (for Knox
was now inadmissible to her presence),
and amused them with fair words. She

I
l

l
was not yet persuaded, she said, of the
truth of their religion; but she was willing
to hear conference and reasoning on the
subject; she was even content to attend
the public sermons of some of them; and,
“above all others, she would gladly hear
the superintendent of Angus, for he was a



166
SCOTS VVORTHIES.









__>~
_

mild and sweet-natured man, with true
honesty and uprightness, Sir John Erskine
of Dun.” But as soon as her marriage
with lord Darnley was over, she told them
in very plain and determined language,
“her majesty neither will, nor may leave
the religion wherein she has been nourish-
ed, and brought up.” And there was no
more word of hearing either sermon or
conference. '
The fi'iendship between the earl of
Moray and the reformer was renewed in
the beginning of 1565. The latter was
placed in a very delicate predicament, by
the insurrection under Moray, and the
other lords who opposed the queen’s mar-
riage. His father-in-law was one of the
number. They professed that the security
of the protestant religion was the principal
ground of their taking arms; and they
came to Edinburgh to collect men to their
standard. But whatever favour he might
have for them, he kept himself clear from
any engagement. If he had taken part in
this unsuccessful revolt, we need not doubt
that her majesty would have embraced the
opportunity of punishing him for it, when
his principal friends had fled the kingdom.
We find, in fact, that she immediately
proceeded against him on a different, but
far more slender pretext.
king, who could be either papist or pro-
testant as it suited, went sometimes to
mass with the queen, and 50111613111165
attended the reformed To
silence the suspicions of his alienation
from the reformed religion, circulated by
the insurgent lords, he, on the 19th of
August, made a solemn appearance in St
Giles’s church, sitting on a throne, which
had been prepared for his reception.
Knox preached that day on Isaiah xxvi.
13, &c., and happened to prolong the ser-
vice beyond his usual time. In one part
of the sermon, be quoted these words of
Scripture: “ I will give children to be their
The young
sermons.
princes, and babes shall rule over them;
children are their oppressors, and women
rule over them ;" and in another part of it,
he mentioned that God punished Ahab,
because he did not correct his idolatrous
wife Jezebel. Though no particular ap-
plication was made by the preacher, the
king applied these passages to himself and
the queen, and, returning to the palace in
great wrath, refused to taste dinner. The
papists, who had accompanied him to the
church, inflamed his resentment and that
of the queen, by their representations.
That very afternoon Knox was taken
from bed, and carried before the privy
Some respectable inhabitants of
the city, understanding his situation,
accompanied him to the palace. He was
told that he had offended the king, and
must desist from preaching as long as their
majesties were in Edinburgh. He replied,
that “he had spoken nothing but accord-
ing to his text; and if the church would
command him to speak or abstain, he
would obey, so far as the word of God
would permit him.” Spottiswood says, that
he not only stood to what he had said in
the pulpit, but added, “ That as the king,
for” the queen’s “pleasure, had gone to
mass, and dishonoured the Lord God, so
should he in his justice make her the
instrument of his overthrow. This speech,”
council.
continues the archbishop’s manuscript,
“esteemed too bold at the time, came
afterwards to be remembered, and was
reckoned among other his prophetical
sayings, which certainly were marvellous.
The queen, enraged at this answer, burst
forth into tears.”
The report of the inhibition laid upon
the reformer, created great agitation in
the city. His colleague, who was appoint-
ed to supply his place during the suspen-
sion, threatened to desist entirely from
preaching. The town council met, and
appointed a deputation to wait on their



JOHN KNOX.
167




majesties, and request the removal of the
inhibition; and in a second meeting, on
the same day, they came to an unanimous
resolution, that they would “ in no manner
of way consent or grant that his mouth be
closed,” but that he should be desired, “ at
his pleasure, and as God should move his
heart, to proceed forward to true doctrine
as before, which doctrine they would
approve and abide at to their life’s end.”
It does not appear that he continued
any time suspended from preaching. For
the king and queen left Edinburgh before
the next Sabbath, and the prohibition ex-
tended only to the time of their residence
in the city. Upon their return, it is pro-
bable that the court judged it unadvisable to
enforce an order which had already created
much discontent, and might alienate the
minds of the people still farther from the
present administration. Accordingly, we
find him exercising his ministry in Edin-
burgh with the same boldness as formerly.
Complaints were made to the council of
the manner in which he prayed for the
exiled noblemen; but secretary Maitland,
who had formerly found so much fault
with his prayers, defended them on the
present occasion, saying that he had heard
them, and they were such as nobody could
blame.
Christopher Goodman had officiated
with much acceptance as minister of St
Andrews, since the year 1560; but he was
prevailed on, by the solicitations of his
friends in England, to return, about this
time, to his native country. The com-
missioners from St Andrews were instruct-
ed to petition the general assembly, which
met in December this year, that Knox
should be translated from Edinburgh to
their city. They claimed a right to him,
as he had commenced his ministry among
them; and they might think that the
dissensions between the court and him!

__4
; would induce him to prefer a more retired
situation.
But the petition was refused.
This assembly imposed on him several
important services. He was commissioned
to visit the churches in the south of Scot—
land, and appointed to write “ a comfort-
able letter,” exhorting the ministers, ex-
horters, and readers, throughout the king-
dom, to persevere in the discharge of
their functions, which many of them were
threatening to throw up, on account of the
non-payment of their stipends, and excit-
ing the people among whom they laboured
to relieve their necessities. He had for-
merly received an appointment to draw up
the Form of Excommunication and Pub-
lic Repentance. At this time he was re-
quired to compose a Treatise of Fasting.
The assembly, having taken into considera-
tion the troubles of the country, and the
dangers which threatened the whole pro-
testant interest, appointed a general fast to
be kept through the kingdom. The form
and order to be observed on that occasion
they left to be drawn out by Knox and his
colleague. As nothing had been hitherto
published expressly on this subject, they
were authorized to explain the duty, as
well as state the reasons which at this time
called for that solemn exercise. The
whole was appointed to be ready before
the time of the fast, to serve as a directory
to ministers and people.
When the queen came to Edinburgh,
Knox left it, and retired to Kyle. There
is no reason to think that he was privy to
the conspiracy which proved fatal to
Rizzio. But it is probable that he had
expressed his satisfaction at an event
which contributed to the safety of religion
and the commonwealth, if not also his ap-
probation of the conduct of the con-
spirators. At any rate, he was, on other
grounds, sufficiently obnoxious to the queen;
and as her resentment, on the present occa-


168
SCOTS WORTHIES.



sion, was exceedingly inflamed, it was
deemed prudent for him to withdraw.
Having, at last, “ got quit” of one who
had long been troublesome to her, she was
determined to prevent his return to the
capital. We need not doubt that the town
council and inhabitants, who had formerly
refused to agree to his suspension from
preaching for a short time, would exert
themselves to obtain his restoration. But
she resisted the importunities of all his
friends. She was even unwilling that he
should find a refuge within the kingdom,
and wrote to a nobleman in the west
country, with whom he resided, to banish
him from his house. It does not appear
that he returned to Edinburgh, or, at
least, that he resumed his ministry in it,
until the queen was deprived of the
government.
Being banished from his flock, he judged
this a favourable opportunity for paying a
visit to England. Parental affection, on
the present occasion, increased the desire
which he had long felt to accomplish this
journey. His two sons had some time ago
been sent by him into that kingdom, pro—
bably at the desire of their mother’s rela-
tions, to obtain their education in some of
the English seminaries. Having obtained
the queen’s safe-conduct, he applied to the
general assembly, which met in December,
1566, for their liberty to remove. They
readily granted it, upon condition of his
returning against the time of their next
meeting in June; and, at the same time,
gave him a most ample and honourable
testimonial, in which they described him as
“ a true and faithful minister, in doctrine
pure and sincere, in life and conversation
in our sight inculpable,” and one who
“has so fruitfully used that talent granted
to him by the Eternal, to the advancement
of the glory of his godly name, to the pro-
pagation of the kingdom of Jesus Christ,
and edifying of them who heard his preach-

ing, that of duty we most heartily praise
his godly name, for that so great a benefit
granted unto him for our utility and
profit.”
The reformer was charged with a letter
from the assembly, to the bishops and
ministers of England, interceding for
lenity to such of their brethren as scru-
pled to use the sacerdotal dress, enjoin-
ed by the laws. The controversy on
that subject was at this time carried on
with great warmth among the English
clergy. It is not improbable, that the
assembly interfered in this business at the
desire of Knox, to whom the composition
of the letter was committed. He could
not have forgotten the trouble which he
himself had suffered on a similar ground,
and he had a high regard for many of the
This interposition did not pro-
Even though
scruplers.
cure for them any relief.
the superior clergy had been more zealous
to obtain it than they were, Elizabeth was
inflexible, and would listen neither to the
supplications of her bishops, nor the advice
of her counsellors.
of the English queen does not seem to
have been improved by this visit.
There was one piece of public service
which he performed, before undertaking
his journey to England. On the 23d of
December, the queen granted a commission
to the archbishop of St Andrews, under
the privy seal, restoring him to his ancient
jurisdiction, which had been abolished, in
1560, by act of parliament. This step was
taken, partly to prepare for the restoration
of the popish religion, and partly to faci-
litate another dark design which was soon
after disclosed. The protestants could not
fail to be both alarmed and enraged at this
daring measure. The reformer, moved
both by his own zeal, and the advice of his
brethren, addressed a circular letter to the
principal protestants in the kingdom, re-
questing their immediate advice on the
Knox’s good opinion



i,___-_
JOHN
KNOX. 169



measures most proper to be adopted on this
occasion, and enclosing a copy of a proposed
supplication to the queen. This letter dis-
covers all the ardour of the writer’s spirit.
called forth by such an occurrence.
Rizzio’s assassinationeié was acted during
the time that Knox was in England, which
led to a complete revolution in the govern-
ment of the kingdom, and, contrary to the
designs of the actors, threw the power
solely into the hands of the protestants.
Knox was absent from Edinburgh at
the time of the queen’s marriage with
Bothwell ; but his colleague ably supported
the honour of his place and order on that
occasion. Being required to publish the
banns, he reluctantly agreed, by the advice
of his session, to make known the purpose ;
but at the same time protested from the
pulpit, on three several days, that he ab-
* The queen caused put her own name before her
husband’s in all writs; and thereafter she caused to
leave out his name wholly: and because formerly he
had signed every thing of any moment, she caused to
make a seal like the king’s, and gave it to David
Rizzio, who made use of it by the queen’s command.
Upon Sunday, the third day of March, began the
fasting at Edinburgh. The seventh day of March,
the queen came from the palace of Holyrood-house to
the town, in wondrous gorgeous apparel, albeit the
number of lords and train was not very great. In
the tolbooth were devised and named the heads of the
articles that were drawn against the banished lords.
Upon the morrow, and Saturday following, there was
great reasoning concerning the attainder: and indeed
they were still seeking proof, for there was no other
way, but the queen would have them all attainted,
albeit the time was very short; the twelfth day of
March should have been the day, which was the
Tuesday following. Now, the matter was stayed by
a marvellous tragedy, for by the lords—upon the
Saturday before which was the ninth of March,
about supper-time—David Rizzio, the Italian, named
the French secretary, was slain in the gallery, below
stairs—the king staying in the room with the queen,
told her, that the design was only to take order with
that villain—after that he had been taken violently
from the queen’s presence, who requested most ear-
nestly for the saving of his life; which act was done
by the earl of Morton, the lord Ruthven, the lord
Lindsay, the master of Ruthven, with divers other
gentlemen. They first purposed to have hanged him,
and had provided cords for the same purpose; but the
great haste which they had, moved them to despatch

horred and detested the intended marriage
as unlawful and scandalous, and solemnly
charged the nobility to use their influence
to prevent the queen from taking a step,
which would cover herwith infamy. Being
called before the council, and accused of
having exceeded the bounds of his commis-
sion, he boldly replied, that the bounds of
his commission were the word of God,
good laws, and natural reason, to all of
which the proposed marriage was contrary.
And Bothwell being present, he charged
him with the crime of adultery, the preci-
pitancy with which the process of divorce
had been carried through, the suspicions
entertained of collusion between him and
his wife, of his having murdered the king,
and ravished the queen, all of which would
be confirmed, if they carried their purpose
into execution.
him with whingers or daggers, whcrcwith they gave
him three and fifty strokes. They sent away, and put
forth all such persons as they suspected. The earls
Bothwell and H untly hearing the noise and clamour,
came suddenly to the close, intending to have made
work, if they had had a party strong enough; but the
earl Morton commanded them to pass to their chamber,
or else they should do worse: at the which words they
retired immediately, and so passed forth at a back
window they two alone, and with great fear came forth
of the town to Edmondstone, on foot, and from thence
to Crichton. This David ltizzio was so foolish, that
not only he had drawn unto him the managing of all
affairs, the king [being] set aside, but also his equipagc
and train did surpass the king’s; and at the parlia~
ment that was to be, he was ordained to be chancellor;
which made the lords conspire against him. They
made a bond to stand to the religion and liberties of
the country, and to free themselves of the slavery of
the villain David Rizzio. The king and his father
subscribed to the bond, for they durst not trust the
king’s word without his signet.
There was a French priest, called John Daniot, who
advised David Rizzio to make his fortune, and begone,
for the Scots would not suffer him long. His answer
was, that the Scots would brag but not fight. Then
he advised him to beware of the bastard: to this he
answered, that the bastard should never live in Sect-
land, in his time—he meant the earl Murray—but it
happened, that one George Douglas, bastard son to
the earl of Angus, gave him the first stroke. The
queen, when she heard he was dead, left weeping, and
declared she would study revenge, which she did.—
Knox’s H istery of the Reformation.
Y


170
SCOTS WORTHIES.






The events which followed in rapid
succession upon this infamous marriage;
the confederation of the nobility for re-
venging the king’s death, and preserving
the person of the infant prince; the flight
of Bothwell; the surrender and imprison-
ment of Mary; her resignation of the
government; the coronation of her son;
and the appointment of the earl of Moray
as regent during his minority, are all well
known to the readers of Scottish history.
Knox seems to have returned to his
charge at the time that the queen fled
with Bothwell to Dunbar. He was pre—
sent in the general assembly which met at
Edinburgh on the 25th of June, and was
delegated by them to go to the west country,
and endeavour to persuade the Hamiltons,
and others who still stood aloof fi'om the
confederated lords, to join with them in
settling the distracted affairs of the country,
and to attend a general convention of the
delegates of the churches, to be held on
the 20th of July following. He was un-
successful in this negotiation. But the
convention was held, and the nobles,
barons, and other commissioners, who
were present, subscribed a number of arti-
cles, with reference to religion and the
state of the nation.
On the 29th of July, the reformer
preached the sermon at the coronation of
king James VI., in the parish church of
Stirling. He objected to the ceremony of
unction, as a Jewish rite, abused under the
papacy; but it was deemed inexpedient to
depart from the accustomed ceremonial on
the present occasion. It was therefore
performed by the bishop of Orkney, the
superintendents of Lothian and Angus
assisting him to place the crown on the
king’s head. After the coronation, Knox,
along with some others, took instruments,
and craved extracts of the proceedings.
When the queen was confined by the
lords in the castle of Lochleven, they had

not resolved in what manner they should
dispose of her person for the future. Some
proposed that she should be allowed to
leave the kingdom; some that she should
be imprisoned during life; while others
insisted that she ought to suffer capital
punishment. Of this last opinion was
Knox, with almost all the ministers, and
the great body of the people. The chief
ground upon which they insisted for this.
was not her maladministration in the go-
vernment, or the mere safety and peace of
the commonwealth—which were the rea-
sons upon which the parliament of England,
in the following century, proceeded to the
execution of her grandson ;——but they
grounded their opinion upon the personal
crimes with which Mary was charged.
Murder and adultery, they reasoned, were
crimes to which the punishment of death
was allotted by the law of God and of
nations. From this penalty persons of no
The ordi-
nary forms of judicial procedure, indeed,
made no provision for the trial of a supreme
magistrate for these crimes; because the
laws did not suppose that such enormous
offences would be committed by them.
But extraordinary cases required extraor~
dinary remedies; and new offences gave
birth to new laws. There were examples
in Scripture of the capital punishment of
princes, and precedents for it in the history
of their own country.
Upon these grounds, Knox scrupled
not publicly to maintain, that the estates
of the kingdom ought to bring Mary to a
trial, and if she was found guilty of the
murder of her husband, and an adulterous
connexion with Bothwell, that she ought
to be put to death. Throckmorton, the
English ambassador, had a conference
with him, with the view of mitigating the
rigour of this judgment; but though he
acquiesced in the resolution adopted by the
lords to detain her in prison, be retained
rank could plead exemption.


JOHN KNOX.
17]


his sentiment, and, after the civil war was
kindled by her escape, repeatedly said,
that he considered the nation as suffering
for their criminal lenity.
The earl of Moray, being established in
the regency, directed his attention, at an
early period, to the settlement of religion,
and the redressing of the principal griev-
ances of which the church had long com-
plained. A parliament being summoned
to meet in the middle of December, he,
with the advice of the privy council, pre-
viously nominated certain barons, and com-
missioners of boroughs, to consult upon
and digest such overtures as were proper
to be laid before that assembly. With
these he joined Knox, and other four
ministers, to assist in matters which related
to the church. This committee met in
the beginning of December, and sat until
the opening of the parliament. The record
of their proceedings, both as to civil and
ecclesiastical affairs, is preserved; and, as
many of their propositions were not adopt-
ed by the parliament, it is valuable as a
declaration of the sentiments of a number
of the most able men in the kingdom.
On the 15th of December, Knox preach-
ed at the opening of the parliament, and
exhorted them to begin with the affairs of
religion, in which case they would find
better success in their other business.
The parliament ratified all the acts which
had been passed in 1560, in favour of the
protestant religion, and against popery.
New statutes of a similar kind were added.
It was provided, that no prince should
afterwards be admitted to the exercise of
authority in the kingdom, without taking
an oath to maintain the protestant religion;
and that none but protestants should be
admitted to any office, not hereditary nor
held for life. The ecclesiastical jurisdiction,
exercised by the different assemblies of the
church, was formally ratified, and commis- ;

the causes which properly came within the
sphere of their judgment. The thirds of
benefices were appointed to be paid imme-
diately to collectors appointed by the
church, who were to account to the ex-
chequer for the overplus after paying the
stipends of the ministers. And the funds
of provostries, prebendarics, and chaplain~
ries, were appropriated to maintain bursars
in colleges.
In the act ratifying the jurisdiction of
the church, Knox was appointed one of the
commissioners for drawing out the parti-
cular points which pertained to ecclesiasti-
cal jurisdiction, to be presented to next
meeting of parliament. The general as-
sembly, which met about the same time,
gave him a commission, along with some
others, to act for them in this matter, and,
in general, to consult with the regent and
council on such ecclesiastical questions as
occurred after the dissolution of that as-
sembly. He was also appointed to assist
the superintendent of Lothian in his visita-
tion, and afterwards to visit the churches
in Kyle, Carrick, and Cunningham.
Our reformer had now reached that
point from which he could take a calm
and deliberate view of the dangerous and
bustling scene through which he had passed,
and the termination to which the arduous
struggle in which he had been so long
engaged, was now happily brought. Su-
perstition and ignorance were overthrown
and dispelled; true religion was establish-
ed; the supreme government of the nation
was in the hands of one in whose wisdom
and integrity he had the greatest confidence;
the church was fi*eed from many of those
grievances under which she had hitherto
groaned, and enjoyed the prospect of ob-
taining the redress of such as still remained.
The work on which his heart had been so
ardently set for such a long period, and for
the success of which he had so often trem-
sioners appointed to define more exactly bled, had prospered beyond his utmost




172
SCOTS WORTHIES.








expectation. He now congratulated him-
self on being released from all burden of
public affairs, and spending the remainder
of his days in religious meditation, and
preparation for that event of which his
increasing infirmities admonished him. He
even secretly cherished the wish of resign-
ing his charge in Edinburgh, and retiring
to that privacy, from which he had been
drawn at the commencement of the Scottish
reformation.
But “the way of man is not in himself.”
Providence had allotted to him further
trials of a public nature: he was yet to see
the security of the reformed religion en-
dangered, and the country involved in
another civil war, even more distressing
than the former, in as much as the princi-
pal persons on each side were professed
protestants. From the time that the go-
vernment was transferred from Mary to
her infant son, and the earl of Moray
appointed to the regency, a number of the
nobility, with the house of Hamilton at
their head, had stood aloof, and, from other
motives as much as attachment to the
queen, had refused to acknowledge the
authority of the regent. Upon the escape
of the queen from imprisonment, they
collected to her standard, and avowed their
design to restore her to the full exercise
of the royal authority. In consequence of
the defeat at Langside, Mary was driven
from the kingdom, and her party broken ;
and the regent, by his vigorous measures,
reduced the whole kingdom to a state of
obedience to the king’s authority. De-
spairing to accomplish their object during
his life, the partisans of Mary resolved to
cut him off by private means.
The regent was assassinated on Satur-
day, 23d January, 1570, and the intelli-
gence was conveyed early next morning to
Edinburgh. It is impossible to describe
the anguish which the reformer felt on this
occasion. A cordial and intimate friend-

ship had long subsisted between them. Of
all the Scottish nobility, he placed the
greatest confidence in Moray’s attachment
to religion; and his conduct after his eleva-
tion to the regency had served to heighten
the good opinion which he formerly enter-
tained of him. He looked upon his death
as the greatest calamity which could befall
the nation, and the forerunner of other
evils. When the shock produced by the
melancholy tidings had subsided, the first
thought that rushed into his mind was,
that he had himself been the instrument of
obtaining, from his clemency, a pardon to
the man who had become his 1nurderer,——a
thought which naturally produced a very
different impression on him from what it
did on the dying regent.
In his sermon that day, he introduced
the subject; and after saying, that God in
his great mercy had raised up godly rulers,
and took them away in his displeasure on
account of the sins of a nation, he thus
poured out the sorrows of his heart in an
address to God. “ O Lord, in what misery
and confusion found he this realm! To
what rest and quietness now by his labours
suddenly he brought the same, all estates,
but especially the poor commons, can wit-
ness. Thy image, O Lord, did so clearly
shine in that personage, that the devil, and
the wicked to whom he is prince, could not
abide it; and so to punish our sins and
our ingratitude (who did not rightly esteem
so precious a gift), thou hast permitted
him to fall, to our great grief, in the hands
of cruel and traitorous murderers. He is
at rest, O Lord—we are left in extreme
misery.”
Only a few days before this, when the
murder was fully concerted, the abbot of
Kilwinning applied to Knox to intercede
with the regent in behalf of his kinsmen,
who were confined for practising against
the government. He signified his readiness
to do all in his power for the relief of any



JOHN KNOX.
173




of that family who were willing to own the
authority of the king and regent; but he
entreated him not to abuse him, by em-
ploying his services, if any mischief were
intended against the regent: for “ I pro-
test,” said he, “before God, who is the
only witness now betwixt us, that if there
be anything attempted, by any of that sur-
name, against the person of that man, in
that case, Idischarge myself to you and
them for ever.” After the assassination,
the abbot sent to desire another interview;
but Knox refused to see him, and desired
the messenger to say to him, “ I have not
now the regent to make suit unto for the
Hamiltons.”
At this time there was handed about a
fabricated account of a pretended confer-
ence held by the late regent with lord
Lindsay, Wishart of Pittarrow, the tutor of
Pitcur, James Macgill, and Knox, in which
they were represented as advising him to
set aside the young king, and place the
crown on his own head. The modes of
expression peculiar to each of the persons
were carefully imitated in the speeches put
into their mouths, to give it the greater air
of credibility. The design of it evidently
was to lessen the odium of the murder,
and the veneration of the people for the
memory of Moray; but it was universally
regarded as an impudent and gross forgery.
Its fabricator was Thomas Maitland, a
young man of talents, but corrupted by his
brother the secretary, who before this had
engaged himself to the queen’s party, and

was suspected of having a deep hand in .
the plot for cutting off the regent.
On the day on which the weekly con- '
ference was held in Edinburgh, the same ! tears before him, while he described the
person slipped into the pulpit a schedule,
containing words to this effect: “ Take up
paper on entering the pulpit, supposing it
to be a note requesting the prayers of the
congregation for a sick person, and, having
. read it, laid it aside without any apparent
emotion. But towards the conclusion of
his sermon, having deplored the loss which
the church and commonwealth had recently
sustained, and declared the account of the
conference, which had been circulated, to
be false and calumnious, he said that there
were persons who rejoiced at the treason-
able murder, and scrupled not to make it
the subject of their merriment; particu-
larly there was one present who had
thrown in a writing insulting over an
‘ event which was the cause of grief to all
good men. “ That wicked man, whosoever
he be, shall not go unpunished, and shall
die where there shall be none to lament
him.” Maitland, when he went home,
said to his sister, that the preacher was
raving, when he spake in such a manner
of a person who was unknown to him;
but she, understanding that her brother
had written the line, reproved him, saying
with tears, that none of that man’s denun-
ciations were wont to prove idle. Spottis-
wood, who had his information personally
from the mouth of that lady, says, that
Maitland died in Italy, “having no known
person to attend him.”
Upon Tuesday, the 14th of February,
the regent’s corpse was brought from the
palace of Holyroodhouse, and interred in
the south aisle of the collegiate church of
St Giles. Before the funeral, Knox
preached a sermon on these words, “ Bless-
ed are the dead which die in the Lord.”
Three thousand persons were dissolved in
regent’s virtues, and bewailed his loss.
Buchanan paid his tribute to the memory
now the man whom you accounted another ; of the deceased, by writing the inscription
God, and consider the end to which his l placed on his monument, with that expres-
ambition hath brought him.” Knox, whose sive simplicity and brevity which are dic-
turn it was to preach that day, took up the ; tated by genuine grief. A convention of




174
SCOTS WORTHIES.


the nobility was held after the funeral, at
which it was resolved to avenge his death;
but different opinions were entertained as
to the mode of doing this, and the commons
complained loudly of the remissness with
which it was carried into execution. The
general assembly, at their first meeting,
testified their detestation of the crime, by
ordering the assassin to be publicly excom-
municated in all the chief towns of the
kingdom, and appointed the same process
to be used against all who should after-
wards be convicted of accession to the con-
spiracy.
During the sitting of the convention,
Knox received a number of letters from
his acquaintances in England, expressive of
their high regard for the character of the
regent, and their sorrow at so grievous a
loss. One of his correspondents, Dr Lau-
rence Humphrey, urged him to write a
memoir -of the deceased. Had he done
this, he would no doubt, from his intimate
acquaintance with him, have communicated
a number of particulars of which we must
now be content to remain ignorant. But
though he had been disposed to undertake
this task, the state of his health must have
prevented its execution.
The grief which he indulged, in conse—
quence of this mournful event, and the
confiisions which followed it, preyed upon
his spirits, and injured his health. In the
month of October, he had a stroke of
apoplexy, which affected his speech to a
considerable degree. Upon this occasion,
his enemies exulted, and circulated the most
exaggerated tales. The report ran through
England as well as Scotland, that John
Knox would never preach nor speak more ;
that his face was turned into his neck;
that he was become the most deformed
creature ever seen; that he was actually
dead ;—a most unequivocal expression of
the high consideration in which he was
held. which our reformer received in com-

.___.
men with some other great men of his
age.
Those who flattered themselves that the
reformer’s disorder was mortal were dis-
appointed; for he convalesced, recovered
the use of his speech, and was able, in the
course of a few days, to resume preaching,
at least on Sabbath days. He never re-
covered, however, from the debility which
was produced by the stroke. He never
went abroad except on Sabbath-days, to
preach in the forenoon. He had given up
attendance upon church courts. He had,
previous to the breaking out of the last
disturbances, weaned his heart from public
affairs. But whenever he saw the welfare
of the church and commonwealth threaten-
ed, he forgot his resolutions and his infir-
mities, and entered into the cause with all
the keenness of his more vigorous days.
Whether the public proceedings of the
nation, or his own conduct, were arraigned
and condemned, whether the attacks upon
them were open or clandestine, he stood
prepared to repel them, and convinced the
adversaries, that they could not accomplish
their designs without opposition, as long he was able to move a tongue.
His situation in Edinburgh became very
critical in April, 1571, when Grange re-
ceived the Hamiltons, with their forces,
into the castle. Their inveteracy against
him was so great, that his friends were
obliged to watch his house during the
night. They wished to form a guard for
his protection when he went abroad; but
the governor of the castle forbade this, as
implying a suspicion of him, and offered to
send Melvill, one of his officers, to conduct
him to and from church. “ He wold gif
the woulf the wedder to keip,” says Banna-
tyne. The duke and his friends refused to
pledge their word for his safety, because
“there were many rascals among them
who loved him not.” Intimations were
often given him of threatenings against his



JOHN
KNOX. 175



life; and one evening, as he sat in his
house, a musket-ball was fired in at the
Window, and lodged in the roof of the
room. It happened that he sat at the
time in a different part of the room from
his usual, otherwise the ball, from the
direction which it took, must have struck
him. Upon this a number of the inhabi-
tants, along with his colleague, repaired to
him, and renewed a request which they had
formerly made, that he would remove from
Edinburgh, to a place where his life would
be in greater safety, until such time as the
queen’s party should evacuate the town.
But he refused to yield to them, appre-
hending that his enemies wished to intimi-
date him into flight, that they might carry
on their designs more quietly, and then
accuse him of cowardice. Being unable
to persuade him by any other means, they
at last had recourse to an argument which
prevailed. They told him that they were
determined to defend him, if attacked, at
the peril of their lives, and if blood was
shed in the quarrel, which was highly pro-
bable, they would leave it on his head.
Upon this, he consented, “ sore against his
will,” to leave that city.
On the fifth of May he left Edinburgh,
and crossing the frith at Leith, travelled
by short stages to St Andrews, which he
had chosen as the place of his retreat.
Alexander Gordon, bishop of Galloway,
occupied his pulpit. He preached and
prayed in a manner more acceptable to
the quccn’s party than his predecessor, but
little to the satisfaction of the people, who
despised him on account of his weakness,
and disliked him for supplanting their
favourite pastor. The church of Edinburgh
was for a time dissolved. A great number
of its most respectable members either
were driven from the city, or left it through
dissatisfaction. The celebration of the
Lord’s Supper was suspended. During a
whole week “ there was neither preaching

nor prayer, neither was there any sound
of bell heard in all the town, except the
ringing of the cannon.”
Amidst the extreme hostility by which
both parties were inflamed, and which pro-
duced several disgraceful acts of mutual
retaliation, many proofs were exhibited of
the personal antipathy which the queen’s
adherents here to the reformer. An in-
habitant of Leith was assaulted, and his
body mutilated, because he was of the same
name with him. A servant of John Craig
being met one day by a reconnoitring
party, and asked who was his master,
answered in his trepidation, Mr Knox,
upon which he was seized; and, although
he immediately corrected his mistake, they
desired him to “ hold at his first master,”
and haled him to prison. Having fortified
St Giles’s steeple, to overawe the town,
the soldiers baptized one of the cannons by
the name of Know, which they were so
fond of firing, that it burst, killed two of
the party, and wounded others. They
circulated the most ridiculous tales respect-
ing his conduct at St Andrews. John
Law, the letter-carrier of St Andrews,
being in the castle of Edinburgh, “the
ladie Home and utheris wald neidis thraip
in his face, that” John Knox “was banist
the said toune, becaus that in the yarde he
had reasit sum sanctz's, amongis whome
thair came up the devill with horm's, which
when his servant Richart sawe, [he] ran
woode, and so died.”
Although he was free from personal
danger, Knox did not find St Andrews
that peaceful retreat which he had expect-
ed. The Kircaldies and Balfours were a
considerable party in that quarter, and the
Hamiltons had their friends both in the
university and among the ministry. These
were thorns in the reformer’s side, and
made his situation uneasy, as long as he
resided among them. Having left Edin-
burgh, because he could not be permitted


1'76
SCOTS WORTHIES.





to discharge his conscience, in testifying
against the designs of persons whom he
regarded as conspirators against the legal
government of the country, and the security
of the reformed religion, it was not to be
expected that he would preserve silence 011
this subject at St Andrews. In the dis-
courses which he preached on the eleventh
chapter of Daniel’s prophecy, he frequently
took occasion to advert to the transactions
of his own time, and to inveigh against
the murder of the late king and the
regent. This was very grating to the
ears of the opposite faction, particularly
to Robert and Archibald Hamilton, the
former a minister of the city, and the latter
a professor in one of the colleges. Dis-
pleased with his censures of his relations,
and aware of his popularity in the pulpit,
Robert Hamilton circulated in private,
that it did not become Knox to exclaim so
loudly against murderers; for he had seen
his subscription, along with that of the
earl of Moray, to a bond for assassinating
Darnley. But when the reformer replied
to him, Hamilton denied that he had ever
spoken such words.
During his stay at St Andrews, he
published a vindication of the reformed
religion, in answer to a letter written by
a Scots Jesuit, called Tyrie. The argu-
mentative part of the work was finished by
him in 1568; but he sent it abroad at this
time, with additions, as a farewell address
to the world, and a dying testimony to the
truth which he had so long taught and
defended. Along with it he published one
of his religious letters to his mother-in-law,
Mrs Bowes; and, in an advertisement pre-
fixed to this, he informs us that she had lately
departed this life, and that he could not
allow the opportunity to slip of acquainting
the public, by means of this letter, with
the principal cause of that intimate Chris-
tian friendship which had so long subsisted
between them.
' to the faithful that God of his mercie shall

, to meet at Perth on the 6th August, he
The ardent desire which he felt to be
released, by death, from the troubles of the
present life, appears in all that he wrote
about this time. “ Wearie of the world,”
and “ thristing to depart,” are expressions
frequently used by him. The dedication
of the above work is thus inscribed: “ John
Knox, the servant of Jesus Christ, now
Wearie of the world, and daylie luiking for
the resolution of this my earthly tabernakle,
appoint to fight after me.” In the conclu-
sion of it he says, “ Call for me, deir
brethren, that God, in his mercie, will
pleas to put end to my long and paneful
battell. For now being unable to fight, as
God sumtymes gave strength, I thrist an
end, befoir I be more troublesum to the
faithfull. And yet, Lord, let my desyre
be moderat be thy Holy Spirit.” In a
prayer subjoined to the dedication are these
words, “ To thee, O Lord, I commend my
spirit. For I thrist to be resolved from
this body of sin, and am assured that I sall
rise agane in glorie; howsoever it be that
the wicked for a tyme sall trode me and
others thy servandcs under their feit. Be
merciful, O Lord, unto the kirk within this
realme; continew with it the light of thy
evangell; augment the number of true
preicheris. And let thy mercyfull provi-
dence luke upon my desolate bedfellow, the
fruit of hir bosome, and my two deir chil-
dren, Nathaneal and Eleazer. Now, Lord,
put end to my miserie.” The advertise-
ment “ to the Faithful Reader,” dated from
St Andrews, 12th July, 1572, concludes
in the following manner: “ I hartly salute
and take my good night of all the faithful
in both reahnes, earnestly desyring the
assistance of their prayers, that, without
any notable slander to the evangel of Jesus
Christ, I may end my battell. For as the
world is Wearie of me, so am I of it.”
The general assembly being appointed

A
JOHN KNOX.
177





took his leave of them in a letter, along
with which he transmitted certain articles
and questions which he recommended to
their consideration. The assembly return-
ed him an answer, declaring their appro-
bation of his propositions, and their earnest
desires for his preservation and comfort,
The last piece of public service which he
performed at their request, was examining
and approving a sermon which had been
lately preached by David Ferguson, minis-
ter of Dunfermline. His subscription to
this sermon, like everything which pro-
ceeded from his mouth or pen, about this
time, is uncommonly striking. “ John
Knox, with my dead hand, but glaid heart,
praising God, that of his mercy he levis
such light to his kirk in this desolatioun.”
From the rapid decline of our reformer’s
health, in spring 1572, there was every
appearance of his ending his days in St
Andrews ; but it pleased God that he
should be restored once more to his flock,
and allowed to die peaceably in his own
bed. In consequence of a cessation of
arms agreed to, in the end of July, between
the regent and the adherents of the queen,
the city of Edinburgh was abandoned by
the forces of the latter, and secured from
the annoyance of the garrison in the castle.
As soon as the banished citizens returned
to their houses, they sent a deputation to
St Andrews, with a letter to their minister,
expressive of their earnest desire “that
once again his voice might be heard among
them,” and entreating him immediately to
come to Edinburgh, if his health would at
all permit him. After reading the letter,
and conversing with the commissioners, he
agreed to return, but under the express
condition, that he should not be urged to :‘
observe silence respecting the conduct of 5
those who held the castle against the re-


l
1
therefore desired them to acquaint their
constituents with this, lest they should
afterwards repent of his austerity, and be
apprehensive of ill treatment on his account.
This he repeated upon his return to Edin-
burgh, before he entered the pulpit. Both
the commissioners and the rest of their
brethren assured him, that they did not
mean to put a bridle in his mouth; but
wished him to discharge his duty as he had
been accustomed to do.
On the 17th of August, to the great joy
of the queen’s faction, whom he had over-
awed during his residence among them,
the reformer left St Andrews, along with
his family, and was accompanied on his
journey by a number of his brethren and
acquaintances. Being obliged by his weak-
ness to travel slowly, it was the 23d of the
month before he reached Leith, from which,
after resting a day or two, he came to
Edinburgh. The inhabitants enjoyed the
satisfaction of seeing him again in his own
pulpit, on the first Sabbath after he arrived ;
but his voice was now so enfeebled that he
could not be heard by the half of the con-
gregation. Nobody was more sensible of
this than himself. He therefore requested
his session to provide a smaller house in
which he could be heard, if it were only by
a hundred persons ; for his voice, even in
its best time, was not able to extend over
the multitude which assembled in the
large church, much less now when he was
so debilitated. This was done accordingly.
During his absence, a coolness had taken
place between his colleague and the parish,
who found fault with him for temporizing
during the time that the queen’s faction
retained possession of the city. In conse-
quence of this, they had separated, and
Craig was gone to another part of the
5 country. Knox, perceiving that he would
gent; “whose treasonable and tyrannical not lOIlg be able to Preach, and that he
deeds,” he said, “ he would cry out against, ‘ W215 already incapacitated fol‘ all Othcr
as long as he was able to speak.” He ministerial duties, was extremely solicitous
z




178
SCOTS WORTHIES.



to have one settled as his colleague, that
the congregation might not be left “ as
sheep without a shepherd,” when he was
called away. The last general assembly
having granted to the church of Edinburgh
liberty to choose any minister within the
kingdom, those of Dundee and Perth ex-
cepted, they now unanimously fixed upon
James Lawson, sub-principal of the college
of Aberdeen. This choice was very agree-
able to the reformer, who, in a letter sent
along with those of the superintendent and
session, urged him to comply with the call
without delay. Though this letter. has
already appeared in print, yet as it is not
long, and is very descriptive of his frame of
mind at this interesting period, we shall
lay it before the reader.
“ All worldlie strenth, yea ewin in thingis
spirituall, decayes; and yit sall never the
work of God decay. Belovit brother, see-
ing that God of his mercie, far above my
expectatione, has callit me ones agane to
Edinburgh, and yet that I feill nature so
decayed, and daylie to decay, that I luke
not for a long continewance of my battell,
I wald gladlie anes discharge my conscience
into your bosome, and into the bosome of
vtheris, in whome I think the feare of God
remanes. Gif I had had the habilitie of
bodie, I suld not have put you to the pane
to the whilk I now requyre you, that is,
anes to visit me, that we may conferre
together of heawinlie things; for into earth
there is no stabilitie, except the kirk of
Jesus Christ, ever fightand vnder the
crosse, to whose myghtie protectione I
hartlie comit yeu. Of Edinburgh the vii
of September, 1572. JHONE KNOX.”
In a postscript these expressive words
were added, “ Haste, brother, lest you come
too late.”
In the beginning of September, intelli-
gence came to Edinburgh, that the admiral
of France, the brave, the generous, the
pious Coligni was murdered in the city of

Paris, by the orders of Charles IX. Im-
mediately on the back of this, tidings
arrived of that most detestable and uni
paralleled scene of barbarity and treachery,
the general massacre of the protestants
throughout that kingdom. Post after post
brought fresh accounts of the most shock-
ing and unheard-of cruelties. Hired cut-
throats, and fanatical cannibals marched
fi‘om city to city, paraded the streets, and
entered into the houses of those that were
marked out for destruction. No reverence
was shown to the hoary head, no respect
to rank or talents, no pity to tender age or
sex. Aged matrons, women upon the point
of their delivery, and children, were trodden
under the feet of the assassins, or dragged
with hooks into the rivers; others, after
being thrown into prison, were instantly
brought out, and butchered in cold blood.
Seventy thousand persons were murdered
in one week. For severaldays the streets
of Paris literally ran with blood. The
savage monarch, standing at the windows
of the palace, with his courtiers, glutted
his eyes with the inhuman spectacle, and
amused himself with firing upon the mise-
rable fugitives who sought shelter at his
merciless gates.
The intelligence of this massacre (for
which a solemn thanksgiving was offered
up at Rome by order of the pope,) produced
the same horror and consternation in Scot-
land as in every other protestant country.
It inflicted a deep wound on the exhausted
spirit of Knox. Besides the blow struck
at the whole reformed bodies, he had to
lament the loss of many individuals eminent
for piety, learning, and rank, whom he
numbered among his acquaintances. Be-
ing conveyed to the pulpit, and summoning
up the remainder of his strength, he thun-
dered the vengeance of Heaven against
that cruel murderer and false traitor, the
king of France, and desired Le Croc, the
French ambassador, to tell his master, that

J
JoHN KNOX.
179


sentence was pronounced against him in
Scotland, that the divine vengeance would
never depart from him, nor from his house,
if repentance did not ensue ; but his name
would remain an execration to posterity,
and none proceeding from his loins would
enjoy that kingdom in peace. The am-
bassador complained of the indignity offer-
ed to his master, and required the regent


had been pleased to give them a pastor in
his room, when he was now unable to
. teach; he fervently prayed, that any gifts
which had been conferred on himself might
be augmented a thousand fold to his suc-
cessor; and, in a most serious and impres-
sive manner, he exhorted and charged all
|present to adhere steadfastly to the faith
to silence the preacher; but this was1
refused, upon which he left Scotland.
Lawson, having received the letters of
invitation, hastened to Edinburgh, and had
the satisfaction to find that Knox was still
able to receive him. Having preached to
the people, he gave universal satisfaction.
On the following Sabbath, 21st September,
Knox began to preach in the Tolbooth
church, which was now fitted up for him.
He chose for the subject of his discourses,
the account of our S. viour’s crucifixion, as
recorded in the 27th chapter of the gospel
according to Matthew, a theme upon which
he often expressed a wish to close his
ministry. On Sabbath, the 9th of N ovem-
ber, he presided in the installation of Law-
son as his colleague and successor. The
sermon was preached by him in the Tel-
booth church; after it was ended, he re-
moved, with the audience, to the large
church, where he went through the accus-
tomed form of admission, by proposing
the questions to the minister and people,
addressing an exhortation to both, and
praying for the divine blessing upon the
connexion. Upon no former occasion did
he deliver himself more to the satisfaction
of those who were able to hear him. After
declaring the mutual duties of pastor and
congregation, he protested, in the presence
of Him before whom he expected soon to
appear, that he had walked among them
with a good conscience, preaching the
which they had professed. Having finished
the service, and pronounced the blessing
jwith a cheerful but exhausted voice, he
came down fi~om the pulpit, and, leaning
upon his staff, crept down the street, which
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gospel of Jesus Christ in all sincerity, not :
studying to please men nor to gratify his
‘ put an end to all his troubles.
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[Knox returning from church, after having preached his last
sermon, 9th November, 1572.]
was lined with the audience, who, as if
anxious to take the last sight of their be-
loved pastor, followed him until he entered
his house. He never again came out alive.
On the Tuesday following (Nov. 11), he
was seized with a severe cough, which,
together with the defluxion, greatly affected
his breathing. When his fiiends, anxious
to prolong his life, proposed to call in the
assistance of physicians, he readily acqui-
esced, saying, that he would not neglect
the ordinary means of health, although he
was persuaded that the Lord would soon
It was his
ordinary practice to read every day some





180
scoTs WORTHIES.





chapters of the Old and New Testaments;
to which he added a certain number of the
Psalms of David, the whole of which he
perused regularly once a-month. On
Thursday the 13th, he sickened, and was
obliged to desist from his course of reading;
but he gave directions to his wife, and to
his secretary, Richard Bannatyne, that one
of them should every day read to him, with
a distinct voice, the 17th chapter of the
Gospel according to John, the 53d of
Isaiah, and a chapter of the Epistle to the
Ephesians. This was punctually complied
with during the whole time of his sickness;
so that scarcely an hour passed in which
some part of the Scripture was not read.
Besides the above passages, he at different ‘
times fixed on certain Psalms, and some of
Calvin’s French sermons on the Ephesians.
Sometimes as they were reading these
sermons, thinking him to be asleep, they
asked him if he heard, to which he an-
swered, “I hear (I praise God), and under-
stand far better,” which words he uttered
for the last time, about four hours before
his death.
The same day on which he sickened, he
desired his wife to discharge the servants’
wages ; and next day wishing to pay one of
his men-servants himself, he gave him twenty
shillings above his fee, adding, “ Thou wilt
never receive more of me in this life.” To‘
all his servants he gave suitable exhorta-
tions to walk in the fear of God, and as
became Christians who had been educated
in his family.
On Friday the 14th, he rose fi'om bed
sooner than his usual hour; and, thinking
that it was the Sabbath, said that he
meant to go to church, and preach on the
resurrection of Christ, upon which he had
meditated through the whole night. This
was the subject upon which he should
have preached in his ordinary course.
But he was so weak, that he needed to be
supported from his bed-side, by two men,



and it was with great difficulty that he
could sit on a chair.
Next day at noon, John Durie, and
Archibald Steward, two of his intimate
acquaintances, came into his room, not
knowing that he was so sick. He rose,
however, on their account; and having
prevailed on them to stay dinner, he came
to the table, which was the last time that
he ever sat at it. He ordered a hogshead
of wine. which was in his cellar to be
pierced; and, with a hilarity which he
delighted to indulge among his friends,
desired Archibald Steward to send for
some of it as long as it lasted, for he
would not tarry until it was all drunk.
On Sabbath he kept his bed, and mis-
taking it for the first day of the fast
appointed on account of the French mas~
saere, refused to take any dinner. F airley
of Braid, who was present, informed him
that the fast did not commence until the
following Sabbath, and sitting down, and
dining before his bed, prevailed on him to
take a little food.
TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN KNOX.
He was very anxious to meet once more
with the session of his church, to leave
them his dying charge, and bid them a last
farewell. In compliance with this wish,
his colleague, the elders, and deacons, with
David Lindsay, one of the ministers of
Leith, assembled in his room on Monday
the 17th, when he addressed them in the
following words, which made a deep and
lasting impression on the minds of all.
“ The day new approaches and is before
the door, for which I have frequently and
vehemently thirsted, when I shall be re-
leased fi*om my great labours and innu-
merable sorrows, and shall be with Christ



JOHN
KNOX. 181





And now, God is my witness, whom Ihave
served in spirit, in the gospel of his Son,
that I have taught nothing but the true
and solid doctrine of the gospel of the Son
of God, and have had it for my only object
to instruct the ignorant, to confirm the
faithful, to comfort the weak, the fearful,
and the distressed, by the promises of
grace, and to fight against the proud and
rebellious, by the divine threatenings. I
know that many have frequently and
loudly complained, and do yet complain, of
my too great severity; but God knows
that my mind was always void of hatred
to the persons of those against whom I
thundered the severest judgments. I
cannot deny but that I felt the greatest
abhorrence at the sins in which they
indulged, but I still kept this one thing in
view, that if possible I might gain them to
the Lord. What influenced me to utter
whatever the Lord put into my mouth so
boldly, without respect of persons, was a
reverential fear of my God, who called,
and of his grace appointed me to be a
steward of divine mysteries, and a belief
that he will demand an account of my dis-
charge of the trust committed unto me,
when I shall stand before his tribunal. I
profess, therefore, before God, and before
his holy angels, that I never made mer-
chandise of the sacred word of God, never
studied to please men, never indulged my
own private passions or those of others,
but faithfully distributed the talent intrust-
ed to me, for the edification of the church
over which I watched. Whatever obloquy
wicked men may cast on me respecting
this point, I rejoice in the testimony of a
good conscience. In the mean time, my
dearest brethren, do you persevere in the
eternal truth of the gospel; wait diligently
on the flock over which the Lord hath set
you, and which he redeemed with the
blood of his only begotten Son. Andthou,
my brother Lawson, fight the good fight,

and do the work of the Lord joyfully and
resolutely. The Lord from on high bless
you, and the whole church of Edinburgh,
against whom, as long as they persevere in
the word of truth which they have heard
of me, the gates of hell shall not prevail.”
Having warned them against counte-
nancing those who disowned the king’s
authority, and made some observations or.
a complaint which Maitland had lodged
against him before the session, he was so
exhausted that he was obliged to desist
from speaking. Those who were present
were filled with both joy and grief by this
affecting address. After reminding him of
the warfare which he had endured, and
the triumph which awaited him, and join‘
ing in prayer, they took their leave of him
in tears.
When they were going out, he desired
his colleague and Lindsay to remain be-
hind, to whom he said: “ There is one
thing that greatly grieves me. You have
been witnesses of the former courage and
constancy of Grange in the cause of God;
but now, alas! into what a gulf has he
precipitated himself? I entreat you not
to refuse to go, and tell him from me, that
John Knox remains the same man now,
when he is going to die, that ever he knew
him when able in body, and wills him to
consider what he was, and the estate in
which he now stands, which is a great
part of his trouble. Neither the craggy
rock in which he miserably confides, nor
the carnal prudence of that man (Mait~
land,) whom he esteems a demi-god, nor
the assistance of strangers, shall preserve
him; but he shall be disgracefiilly dragged
from his nest to punishment, and hung on
a gallows before the face of the sun, unless
he speedily amend his life, and flee to the
mercy of God. That man’s soul is dear to
me, and I would not have it perish, if I
could save it.” The ministers undertook
to execute this commission, and going up


182
SCOTS WORTHIES.

‘without obvious and great pain.


to the castle, obtained an interview with
the governor, and delivered their message.
He at first exhibited some symptoms of
relenting, but having consulted with Mait-
land, he returned and gave them a very
unpleasant answer. This being reported
to Knox, he was much grieved, and said,
that he had been very earnest in prayer
for that man, and he still trusted that his
soul would be saved, although his body
should come to a miserable end.
After this interview with the session, he
was much worse ; his difficulty of breath-
ing increased, and he could not speak
Yet he
continued still to receive persons of every
rank, who came, in great numbers, to visit
him, and he suffered none to go away
without exhortations, which he uttered
with such variety and suitableness as
astonished those who waited upon him.
Lord Boyd came in and said, “I know,
Sir, that I have offended you in many
things, and am now come to crave your
pardon.” His answer was not heard, as
the attendants retired and left them alone.
But his lordship returned next day, in
company with the earl of Morton and the
laird of Drumlanrig. His conversation
with Morton was very particular, as re-
lated by the earl himself before his death.
He asked him, if he was previously ac-
quainted with the design to murder the
late king. Morton having answered in the
negative, he said, “ Well, God has beauti-
fied you with many benefits which he has
not given to every man; as he has given
you riches, wisdom, and friends, and now
is to prefer you to the government of the
realm. And therefore, in the name of
God, I charge you to use all these benefits
aright, and better in time to come than ye
have done in times bypast; first to God’s
glory, to the furtherance of the evangel,
the maintenance of the church of God, and
his ministry; next for the weal of the king,

and his realm, and true subjects. If so ye
shall do, God shall bless you, and honour
you; but if ye do it not, God shall spoil
you of these benefits, and your end shall
be ignominy and shame.”
On Thursday the 20th, lord Lindsay,
the bishop of Caithness, and several gentle-
men visited him. He exhorted them to
continue in the truth which they had
heard, for there was no other word of sal-
vation, and besought them to have nothing
to do with those in the castle. The earl
of Glencairn (who had often visited him,)
came in, with lord Ruthven. The latter,
who called only once, said, “ If there be
any thing, Sir, that I am able to do for
you, I pray you charge me.” His reply
was, “ I care not for all the pleasure and
friendship of the work .”
A religious lady of his acquaintance de-
sired him to praise God for what good he
had done, and was beginning to speak in
his commendation, when he interrupted
her. “Tongue, tongue, lady, flesh of itself
is over proud, ‘and needs no means to
esteem itself.” He put her in mind of
what had been said to her long ago,
“Lady, lady, the black one has never
trampit on your fute,” and exhorted her to
lay aside pride, and be clothed with humi-
lity. He then protested as to himself, as
he had often done before, that be relied
wholly on the free mercy of God, manifest-
ed to mankind through his dear Son Jesus
Christ, whom alone he embraced for wis-
dom, and righteousness, and sanctification,
and redemption. The rest of the company
having taken their leave of him, he said to
the laird of Braid, “ Every one bids me
good night, but when will you do it? I.
have been greatly indebted unto you, for
which I shall never be able to recompense
you ; but I commit you to one that is able
to do it, to the eternal God.”
Upon Friday the 21st, he desired Rich-
ard Bannatyne to order his coffin to be


JOHN
KNOX. 185



made. During that day he was much en-
gaged in meditation and prayer. These
words were often in his mouth; “Come,
Lord Jesus. Sweet Jesus, into thy hands
I commend my spirit. Be merciful, Lord,
to thy church which thou hast redeemed.
Give peace to this afflicted commonwealth.
Raise up faithful pastors who will take the
charge of thy church. Grant us, Lord, the
perfect hatred of sin, both by the evidences
of thy wrath and mercy.” In the midst of
his meditations, he would often address
those who stood by, in such sentences as
these: “ O serve the Lord in fear, and
death shall not be terrible to you. Nay,
blessed shall death he to those who have
felt the power of the death of the only be-
gotten Son of God.” '
On Sabbath 23d, (which was the first
day of the national fast), during the after-
noon sermon, he, after lying a considerable
time quiet, suddenly exclaimed, “ If any be
present, let them come and see the work
of God. Richard Bannatyne thinking
that his death was at hand, sent to the
church for Johnston of Elphingston.
When they came to his bed-side, he burst
out in these rapturous expressions: “ I
have been these two last nights in medita-
tion on the troubled state of the church of
God, the spouse of Jesus Christ, despised
of the world, but precious in the sight of
God. Ihave called to God for her, and
have committed her to her head, Jesus
Christ. I have fought against spiritual
wickedness in heavenly things, and have
prevailed. I have been in heaven, and
have possession. I have tasted of the hea-
venly joys, where presently I am.” He
then repeated the Lord’s prayer and creed,
interjecting some devout aspiration at the
end of every petition, and article.
After sermon many came in to visit
him. Perceiving that he breathed with
great difficulty, some of them asked, if he
felt much pain. He answered that he was

willing to lie there for years, if God so
pleased, and if he continued to shine upon
his soul, through Jesus Christ. When
they thought him asleep, he was employed
in meditation, and at intervals exhorted
and prayed. “ Live in Christ. Live in
Christ, and then flesh need not fear death.
Lord, grant true pastors to thy church,
that purity of doctrine may be retained.
Restore peace again to this common-
wealth, with godly rulers and magistrates.
Once, Lord, make an end of my trouble.”
Stretching his hands toward heaven, he
said, “ Lord, I commend my spirit, soul,
and body, and all, into thy hands. Thou
knowest, O Lord, my troubles: I do not
murmur against thee.” His pious ejacu-
lations were so numerous, that those who
waited on him could recollect only a part
of them, for seldom was be silent, when
they were not employed in reading or in
prayer.—During the course of that night
his trouble greatly increased.
Monday, the 24th of November, was the
last day that he spent on earth. That
morning he would not be persuaded to lie
in bed, but, though unable to stand alone,
rose between nine and ten o’clock, and put
on his stockings and doublet. Being con-
ducted to a chair, he sat about half an
hour, and then went to bed again. In the
progress of the day, it appeared evident
that his end drew near. Besides his wife
and Richard Bannatyne, Campbell of
Kinzeancleugh, Johnston of Elphingston,
and Dr Preston, three of hismost intimate
acquaintances, waited by his bed-side. Mr
Campbell asked him if he had any pain.
“ It is no painful pain, but such a pain as
shall, I trust, put an end to the battle. I
must leave the care of my wife and chil-
dren to you,” continued he, “ to whom you
must be a husband in my room.” About
three o’clock in the afternoon, one of his
eyes failed, and his speech was considera-
bly affected. He desired his wife to read



184
SCOTS WORTHIES.




the 15th chapter of 1st Corinthians. “ Is
not that a comfortable chapter?” said he,
when it was finished “ O what sweet and
salutary consolation the Lord hath afforded
me from that chapter!” A little after,
he said, “ Now, for the last time, I com-
mend my soul, spirit, and body,” touching
three of his fingers, “into thy hand, O
Lord.” About five o’clock he said to his
wife, “ Go read where I cast my first
anchor ;” upon which she read the 17th
chapter of J ohn’s gospel, and afterwards
a part of Calvin’s sermons on the Ephe-
sians.
After this he appeared to fall into a
slumber, during which he uttered heavy
groans. The attendants looked every
moment for his dissolution. At length he
awaked as if from sleep, and being asked
the cause of his sighing so deeply, replied,
“ I have formerly, during my frail life, sus-
tained many contests, and many assaults of
Satan; but at present that roaring lion has
assailed me most furiously, and put forth
all his strength to devour, and make an
end of me at once. Often before has he
placed my sins before my eyes, often
tempted me to despair, often endeavoured
to ensnare me by the allurements of the
world; but with these weapons, broken by
the sword of the Spirit, the word of God,
he could not prevail. Now he has attacked
me in another way; the cunning serpent
has laboured to persuade me that I have
merited heaven and eternal blessedness, by
the faithful discharge of my ministry. But
blessed be God who has enabled me to beat
down and quench this fiery dart, by suggest-
ing to me such passages of scripture as
these: What hast thou that thou hast not
received? By the grace of God Iam what
I am: Not I, but the grace of God in me.
Being thus vanquished, he left me. Where-
fore I give thanks to my God through
Jesus Christ, who was pleased to give me
the victor T; and I am persuaded that the .

tempter shall not again attack me, but,
within a short time, I shall, without any
great bodily pain, or anguish of mind, ex-
change this mortal and miserable life, for
a blessed immortality through Jesus
Christ.”
He then lay quiet for some hours, ex-
cept that now and then he desired them to
wet his mouth with a little weak ale. At
ten o’clock they read the evening prayer.
which they had delayed beyond their usual
hour, fi'om an apprehension that he was
asleep. A After they concluded, Dr Preston
asked him, if he had heard the prayers.
“ Would to God,” said he, “ that you and
all men had heard them as I have heard
them: I praise God for that heavenly
sound.” The doctor rose up, and Mr
Campbell sat down before the bed. About
eleven o’clock, he gave a deep sigh, and
said, “ N ow it is come.” Richard Banna-
tyne immediately drew near, and desired
him to think upon those comfortable pro-
mises of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which
he had so often declared to others; and,
perceiving that he was speechless, re-
quested him to give them a sign that he
heard them, and died in peace. Upon this
he lifted up one of his hands, and sighing
twice, expired without a struggle.
He died in the sixty-seventh year of his
age, not so much oppressed with years, as
worn out and exhausted by his extraordin-
ary labours of body and anxieties of mind.
Few men ever were exposed to more dan—
gers, or underwent such hardships. From
the time that he embraced the reformed
religion, till he breathed his last, seldom
did he enjoy a respite from these, and he
emerged from one scene of difficulties, only
to be involved in another, and a more dis-
tressing one. Obliged to flee from St
Andrews to escape the fury of cardinal
Beaton, he found a retreat in East
Lothian, from which he was hunted by
archbishop Hamilton. He lived for several




JOHN
KNOX. 185





years as an outlaw, in daily apprehension
of falling a prey to those who eagerly
sought his life. The few months during
which he enjoyed protection in the castle
of St Andrews were succeeded by a long
and rigorous captivity. After enjoying
some repose in England, he was again dri-
ven into banishment, and for five years
wandered as an exile on the continent.
When he returned to his native country, it
Was to engage in a struggle of the most
perilous and arduous kind. After the re-
formation was established, and he was
settled in the capital, he was involved in a
continual contest with the court. When
he had retired from warfare, and thought
only of ending his days in peace, he was
again called into the field; and, although
scarcely able to walk, was obliged to re-
move from his flock, and to avoid the
hatred of his enemies, by submitting to a
new banishment. Often had his life been
threatened; a price was publicly set upon
his head; and persons were not wanting
who were disposed to attempt his destruc-
tion. No wonder that he was weary of the
world, and anxious to depart. With great
propriety might it be said, at his decease,
that he rested from his labours.
On Wednesday the 26th of November,
he was interred in the churchyard of St
Giles. His funeral was attended by the
newly elected regent, Morton, the nobility
who were in the city, and a great con-
course of people. \Vhen his body was laid
in the grave, the regent pronounced his
eulogium, in the well-known words,
“ There lies he, who never feared the face
of man.”
Our reformer left behind him a widow, f

and five children. His two sons, Nathanael ‘
and Eleazar, were born to him by his first
wife, Mrs Marjory Bowes. we have
<~-__‘
already seen that, about the year 1566, 2
they went to England. where their mother’s §


relations resided. They received their
education at St J ohn’s college, in the uni-
versity of Cambridge, and after finishing it,
died in the prime of life. It appears that
they died without issue, and the family of
the reformer became extinct in the male
line. His other three children were
daughters by his second wife. Dame M ar-
garet Stewart, his widow, afterwards mar-
ried Sir Andrew Ker of Fadounside, a
strenuous supporter of the reformation.
One of his daughters was married to Mr
Robert Pont, minister of ' St Outhberts ;
another of them to Mr James Fleming
also a minister of the church of Scotland;
Elizabeth, the third daughter, was married
to Mr John Welch, minister of Ayr.





Monument, Erected to the memory of Knox, in the Glasgow
Nccropolis, 1825.


186
SCOTS WORTHIES.





GEORGE BUCHANAN.
GEORGE BUCHANAN was born about the
beginning of February, in the year 1506.
His father was Thomas, the second son of
Thomas Buchanan of Drummikill, his
mother Agnes Heriot, of the family of
Trabroun. The house from which he
descended, he has himself characterized as
more remarkable for its antiquity, than for
its opulence. The only patrimony which
his father inherited, was the farm of Mid»
Leowen, or, as it is more commonly de-
nominated, the Moss, situated in the parish
of Killearn and county-of Stirling. The
farm-house in which Buchanan was born,
has twice been rebuilt ; but on each occa-
sion, its original dimensions and character-
istics have been studiously preserved, and
an oak beam, together with an intermediate
wall, has even retained its ancient position.
The present building, which may be con-
sidered as a correct model of Buchanan’s
paternal residence, is a lowly cottage
thatched with straw; but this cottage is
still visited with a kind of religious venera-
tion. A fragment of the oak is regarded
as a precious relic; and an Irish student,
who thirsted for a portion of Buchanan’s
inspiration, is known to have travelled from
Glasgow, for the purpose of visiting the
house, and passing a night directly under
the original beam.
Buchanan’s father died at a premature
age; and, about the same period, his
grandfather found himself in a state of

insolvency. The family, which had never
been opulent, was thus reduced to extreme
poverty ; but his mother struggled hard
with the misery of her condition; and all
her children, five sons and three daughters,
arrived at the age of maturity. The third
son, whose extraordinary attainments have
rendered the family illustrious, is reported
by oral tradition, which must not however
be too rashly credited, to have been indebt-
ed for the rudiments of learning to the
public school of Killearn, which long
continued to maintain a very considerable
degree of celebrity. Mid-Leowen, which
stands on the banks of the Blane, is
situated at the distance of about two miles
from the village ; and it may be conjectured
that the fiiture poet and statesman daily
walked to school, and bore along with him
his meridian repast. A considerable num-
ber of trees, which he is said to have
planted in his school-boy days, are still to be
seen in the immediate vicinity of his native
cottage: one of which, a mountain ash, con-
spicuous for its magnitude, was lately torn
from its roots by the violence of a storm;
but two fresh scions which arose from its
ruins, have been nourished and protected
with anxious care. Nor is the name of
his mother without its rural memorial; a
place which had been adapted to the pur-
pose of shielding her flock, is still denomi-
nated Heriot’s Shiels.
Buchanan was afterwards removed to





I.
l
4

In
GEORGE BUCHANAN.


the school of Dumbarton. His unfolding
genius recommended him to the favour
and protection of his maternal uncle James
Heriot, who, in the year 1520, sent him to
prosecute his studies in the university of
Paris. It was here that he began to
cultivate his poetical talents; partly im-
pelled, as he informs us, by the natural
temperament of his mind, partly by the
necessity of performing the usual exercises
prescribed to younger students. Buchanan
did not profess to be one of those bright
geniuses who can acquire a new language
every six weeks,—he incidentally suggests
that his knowledge of Latin was the result
of much juvenile labour. The Greek
tongue, in which he likewise attained to
proficiency, he acquired without the aid of
a preceptor. Within the space of two
years after his arrival at Paris, his uncle
died, and left him exposed to want in a
foreign country. His misery was increased
by a violent distemper, which had perhaps
been occasioned by poverty and mortifica-
tion. In this state of hopeless languor, he
returned to Scotland at the critical age of
sixteen.
Having devoted the best part of a year
to the care of his health, he next assumed
the character of a soldier, and served along
with the auxiliaries whom the duke of
Albany had conducted from France, and
he marched with them against England in
the end of the year 1523. This fruitless
expedition terminated in an attack on the
castle of Werk, from which they were re-
pulsed and compelled to retreat; and
repassed the Tweed, towards Lauder, du-
ring midnight, in the midst of a severe
snow storm. His experience in the course
of this campaign, did not render him more
enamoured of a military life: the hardships
which he had undergone reduced him to
his former state of languor, and during.
the rest of the winter he was confined to
bed.

In the beginning of the ensuing spring,
when he had completed the eighteenth
year of his age, he was sent to the univer-
sity of St Andrews. Patrick Buchanan,
his eldest brother, was matriculated at the
same time. .On the third of October, 1525,
George Buchanan received the degree of
bachelor of arts ; and it appears from the
faculty register that he was then a pauper,
or exhibitioner. At this period the famous
John Mair taught logic in St Salvador’s
college. Buchanan informs us that it was
to attend his prelections that he had been
sent to St Andrews, and that he afterwards
followed Mair to France.
Upon his return to France, he became
a student in the Scottish college of Paris.
On the 10th of October, 1527, he was
incorporated a bachelor of arts, and he
received the higher degree next March.
During the following year, 1529, he was a
candidate for the ofiice of procurator of
the German nation; but his blind compa-
triot, Robert Wauchope, afterwards arch-
bishop of Armagh, was elected for the
ninth time. Buchanan was thus repulsed
on the 5th of May, but on the 3d of June
he was more successful. The university
of Paris being frequented by students from
various countries, they were distributed
into four classes or nations. What was
termed the German nation comprehended
the Scottish academics.
At this period, the principles of the Be-
formation had begun to be widely dissemi-
nated, and were eagerly discussed on the
continent. Buchanan, on his return to
Paris, was caught by the spreading flame.
His Lutheranism seems to have exposed
him to new mortifications; for, after he
had discovered his attachment, he con-
tinued for the space of nearly two years to
struggle with adverse fortune. At the
expiration of that term, he was appointed
a regent or professor in the college of St
Barbe, where he taught grammar for about






188
SCOTS WORTHIES.








three years.
qualifications for such a situation, his ser-
vices seem to have procured him very
inadequate remuneration; but still he re-
presents his situation as comparatively
comfortable when contrasted with the
miseries Parisian professors of humanity
were then exposed to. At the time that
he entered on the duties at St Barbe, he
was twenty-three years of age.
About this time, Gilbert Kennedy, earl
of Cassilis, who was residing near the
college of St Barbe, having become ac-
quainted with Buchanan, admired his
literary talents, and was delighted with
his conversation. He therefore retained
him as preceptor. The first Work that
Buchanan committed to the press, was a
translation of the famous Thomas Linacre’s
rudiments of Latin grammar, which he in-
scribed to lord Cassilis, “ a youth of the
most promising talents, and of an excellent
disposition.” This Latin version was print-
ed by R. Stephanus, in 1533.
After he had resided with his pupil for
the term of five years, they both returned
to Scotland. While he was residing at
the earl’s seat in the country, he composed
a short poem, which rendered him ex-
tremely obnoxious to the ecclesiastics, an
order of men whom it is generally hazard-
ous to provoke. He expresses his own
abhorrence of a monastic life, and stig-
matizes the impudence and hypocrisy of
the monks, particularly those of the order
of St Francis. The holy fathers, when
they became acquainted with this specimen
of his sarcastic wit, speedily forgot their
professions of meekness, and resolved to
convince him of his heterodox presumption
in disparaging the sacred institutions of the
church.
Buchanan had determined to resume his
former occupations in France; but king
James V. retained him in the capacity of
preceptor to one of his natural sons. This
Notwithstanding his eminent

son was not, as has generally been supposed,
the celebrated James Stuart, who after-
wards obtained the regency, but another
who bore the same baptismal name.
But he soon experienced the danger of
extending his ridicule to the orthodox.
The preferment of a profane scoffer at
priests must have augmented their spleen ;
and the Franciscan friars, still smarting
from his Sonmium, found means of re-
presenting him to the king as a man of
depraved morals, and of dubious faith.
But on this occasion their zeal recoiled
upon themselves. By comparing the hu-
mility of their professions with the arro-
gance of their deportment, James had
formerly begun to discover their genuine
character; and the part which he supposed
them to have acted in a late conspiracy
against his own life, had not contributed to
diminish his antipathy. Instead of consign-
ing the poet to disgrace or punishment, the
king, who was aware that private resent-
ment would improve the edge of his satire,
enjoined him, in the presence of many cour-
tiers, to renew his well-directed attack or
the same pious fathers.
Buchanan’s late experience, however, had
taught him the importance of caution; he
determined at once to gratify the king, and
to avoid increasing the resentment of the
friars against himself. In pursuance of
this, he composed a kind of recantation,
which he supposed might delude the F ran-
ciscans by its ambiguity of phrase. But
he found himself doubly deceived: the
indignation of the king, who was himself a
satirical poet, could not so easily be grati-
fied; and the friars were now impelled to
a higher pitch of resentment. James re-
quested him to compose another satire,
which should exhibit their vices in a more
glaring light. The subject was copious,
and well adapted to the poet’s talents and
views. He accordingly applied himself to
the composition of the poem afierwards




GEORGE BUCHANAN.
189


published under the title of Franciscanus
—the Franciscan ; and to satisfy the king’s
impatience, soon presented him with a
specimen. This production, as it now
appears in its finished state, may without
hazard be pronounced the most skilfiil and
pungent satire, which any nation or lan-
guage can exhibit. He has not servilely
adhered to the model of any ancient poet,
but is himself original and unequalled. To
a masterly command of classical phraseo-
logy, he unites uncommon felicity of versi-
fication; and his diction often rises with
his increasing indignation, to majesty and
splendour. The combinations of his wit
are variegated and original; and he evinces
himself a most sagacious observer of human
life. No class of men was ever more com-
pletely exposed to ridicule and infamy;
nor is it astonishing that the popish clergy
afterwards regarded the author with im-
placable hatred. Of the validity of his
poetical accusations, many historical docu-
ments still remain. Buchanan has himself
related in plain prose, that about this period
some of the Scottish ecclesiastics were so
deplorably ignorant, as to suppose Martin
Luther to be the author of a dangerous
book called the New Testament.
But the church being infallible, he
speedily recognised the hazard of accosting
its retainers by their proper names- At
the commencement of the year 1539, many
individuals suspected of reformed principles
were involved in the horrible scenes of
persecution. Towards the close of F ebru-
ary, five were committed to the flames;
nine made a formal recantation of their
supposed errors, and many were driven
into exile. Buchanan had been compre-
hended in the general arrest. After he
was committed to custody, cardinal Beaten
endeavoured to accelerate his doom, by
tendering to the king a sum of money as
the price of his innocent blood. Of this

some of his friends at court ; and his
knowledge of the king’s unfortunate pro-
pensity to avarice, must have augmented
all the horrors of his situation. Stimulated
by the thoughts of increasing danger, he
made a successful effort to regain his
liberty: while his keepers were fast asleep,
he escaped through the window of the
apartment in which he was confined
Directing his steps toward the south, he
had soon to encounter new disasters.
When he reached the borders, he was
molested by robbers; and his life was
exposed to jeopardy from the contagion of
a pestilential disease, which then raged in
the north of England; but he escaped
both perils, and reached London in safety
On his arrival in London, he experienced
the friendship of Sir John Rainsford, who
protected him against the fury of the
papists. Of this generous protection,
Buchanan was not afterwards unmindful:
he has immortalized his benefactor by
consecrating a poem to his memory. He
remained but a short time in London, as
he could not find any patrons; and the
aspect of political affairs in England was
not calculated to secure Buchanan’s attach~
ment to that nation ;—he was anxious to
escape from a country which he saw ex-
posed to the wanton cruelties of a brutal
tyrant. The civilization of France, as
well as the particular intimacies which he
had formed in that country, led him to
adopt the resolution of returning to Paris.
But he found on his arrival [1539] that
cardinal Beaton was residing there in the
character of an ambassador. Andrew
Govean, a native of Portugal, invited him
to Bourdeaux; nor did he hesitate to em-
brace an opportunity of removing himself
beyond the influence of the cardinal’s
deadly hatred. Of the college of Guienne,
lately founded in that city, Govean had
been nominated principal; and Buchanan,
circumstance Buchanan was apprized by evidently through his interest, was now


190
SCOTS WORTHIES.




appointed one of the professors. Here he
must have fixed his residence before the
close of the year; for, to Charles V., who
made his solemn entry into Bourdeaux on
the first of December, 1539, he presented .
a poem in the name of the college.
The task assigned him at Bourdeaux,
.vas that of teaching the Latin language.
For an occupation of this kind, he seems
to have entertained no particular affection ;
but, ‘although sufficiently laborious, it never
impaired the native elevation of his mind.
He now prosecuted his poetical studies
with a degree of ardour which may excite
admiration; during the three years of his
residence at Bourdeaux, he completed four
tragedies, together with various other
poems on miscellaneous subjects. It was
then, and indeed at a much later period,
the common practice of academical stu-
dents to exercise themselves in the repre-
sentation of Latin dramas. In dramatic
poetry, the taste of the French nation was
still rude and grotesque; for they had not
begun to extricate themselves from the
absurdities of the early mysteries and alle-
gories. With the view of familiarizing the
youths to the more correct and elegant
models of the ancient theatre, Buchanan,
with his usual intrepidity, made a sudden
incursion into this province of literature.
The earliest of his dramatic compositions
bears the title of Baptistes—the Baptist.
He had, at a former period, applied himself
to the study of the Greek language, with-
out the aid of a tutor, and as a useful
exercise had then executed a close transla-
tion of the Medea of ‘Euripides. He now
delivered a poetical version to the academi-
cal stage, and afterwards, at the earnest
request of his friends, suffered it to be
printed. These two tragedies were per-
formed with a degree of applause which
exceeded his hopes. He afterwards wrote
Jephthes, and translated Alcestes. another
tragedy from Euripides. These last pro-


ductions, as he intended them for publica—
tion, appear to have been written with
superior diligence, when we consider the
labours of his professional duties, and the
distractions produced by the unwearicd
enmity of cardinal Beaton, and the F ran-
ciscans, who still threatened his life. Car-
dinal Beaton had, in a letter addressed to
the archbishop of Bourdeaux, requested
him to secure the person of the heretical
poet; but this letter having been intrusted
to the care of some individual much in-
terested in the welfare of Buchanan, he
was suffered to remain without molestation.
The appearance of a dreadful plague in
Guienne for some time occupied their atten-
tion; and the death of king James [1542],
opening for the ambition of the cardinal
a field for political intrigue at home.
rescued Buchanan from farther fear of
persecution.
The Baptistes, although inferior to the
other tragedy in dramatic interest, is more
strongly impregnated with the author’s
characteristic sentiments. Its great theme
is civil and religious liberty. The poet
frequently expresses himself with astonish—
ing boldness: his language relative to
tyranny and priestcraft is so strong and.
undisguised, that it could not then have
been tolerated in many colleges.
His translations fi~om Euripides must
have contributed, as well as his original
compositions, to revive the genius of the
ancient drama. These versions are exe-
cuted with no inconsiderable felicity. The
diction of Alcestes surpasses that of llledear
yet to his learned contemporaries the last
appeared so highly classical, that strong
suspicions were entertained of his having
published in his own name some ancient
manuscript.
The excellence of the teachers, and the
assiduity of the scholars, soon rendered the
college of Guienne one of the most distin-
guished schools in France. In the learned


GEORGE BUCHANAN.
191


dramas represented in the college, the
well-known Michel de Montagne was a
frequent performer.
Buchanan’s attention to the interests of
elegant and useful learning was unremit-
ting. In a Sapphic ode addressed to the
youth of Bourdeaux, he reminds them of
the dignity and importance of the liberal
arts, and particularly of that art which he
had himself cultivated with such suc-
cess. The exertions of such a preceptor
could not fail of improving the taste of his
pupils; but the splendour of his poetry
seems to have conferred upon the college a
substantial benefit of another kind. This
seminary was more remarkable for the
learning of its members, than for the am-
plitude of its endowments. The penury of
their provision was so sensibly felt, that
Buchanan, at the suggestion of his col-
leagues, addressed a poetical representation
to Francis Olivier, chancellor of France,
which had the desired effect. Buchanan
afterwards inscribed to the chancellor an
elegant ode, in which he commemorates
his liberality and promptitude in amelior-
ating their condition.
Buchanan’s social intercourse was not
confined to the college and the city: it was
at this period that he occasionally enjoyed
the society of a very extraordinary person-
age, who resided at a considerable distance.
At Agen, the elder Scaliger was now ex-
ercising the profession of a physician.
That city, when he there fixed his resi-
dence, could not furnish him with a single
individual capable of supporting literary
conversation ; and he was therefore led to
cultivate an intimacy with some of the
more enlightened inhabitants of Bour-
deaux. Buchanan, T evius, and other ac-
complished scholars who then belonged to
the college of Guienne, were accustomed
to pay him an annual visit during the
vacation. They were hospitably enter-
tained in his house, and he declared that

he forgot the torture of his gout whenever
he had an opportunity of discussing topics
of learning with such guests. The younger
Scaliger, more illustrious than his father,
inherited his high admiration of the Scot-
tish poet. To Buchanan he awarded a
decided superiority over all the Latin poets
of those times.
Having resided three years at Bourdeaux,
he afterwards removed to Paris. In 1544,
he was ofliciating as a regent in the college
of cardinal Le Maire, which he retained
till 1547. About the former of these
periods, he was miserably tormented with
the gout, and acknowledges the medical aid
he had received from Carolus Stephanus,
a doctor of physio, of the faculty of Paris;
who, like many of his relations, was equally
distinguished as a scholar and as a printer
In the college of cardinal Le Maire,
Buchanan was associated with colleagues
worthy of himself; viz., Turnebus and
Muretus, two of the most eminent scholars
of modern times; and it has been remarked
that three of the most learned men in the
world then taught humanity in the same
college. The first class being taught by
Turnebus, the second by Buchanan, and
the third by MUI‘GL‘JS.
John III., king of Portugal, having
founded the university of Coimbra ; and, as
his own dominions could not readily supply
competent professors, he invited Andrew
Govean to accept the principality, and to
conduct from France a considerable number
of proficients in philosophy and ancient
literature. Govean accordingly returned
to his native country in the year 1547,
accompanied by Buchanan and other asso-
ciates. The affairs of Europe then presented
an alarming aspect; and Portugal seemed
to be almost the only corner free from
tumults. To the proposals of Govean he
had not only lent a prompt ear, but was so
much satisfied with the character of his
associates, that he also persuaded his bro~



192
SCOTS WORTHIES.



ther Patrick to join this famous colony.
To several of its members he had formerly
been attached by the strictest ties of friend-
ship, and all had distinguished themselves
by the publication of learned works.
The happiness which Buchanan had
promised himself with associates so conge-
nial to his taste, soon came to an end, by
the death of Govean, which took place in
the year 1548. During the lifetime of
this worthy man, Buchanan and his asso-
ciates had found their situation at Coimbra
sufficiently agreeable ; but after they were
deprived of his protection, the Portuguese
began to persecute them with unrelenting
bigotry. The harmless professors were at
first assailed by the secret weapons of
calumny; and in due time were loudly
accused of imaginary crimes. Three of
their number were thrown into the dun-
geons of the inquisition, and after having
been subjected to a tedious and loathsome
imprisonment, were at length arraigned at
the infernal tribunal. According to the
usual practice, they were not confronted
with their accusers, of whose very names
they were ignorant. As they could not
be convicted of any crime, they were over-
whelmed with reproaches, and again com-
mitted to custody.
Buchanan’s superior genius attracted
an unusual degree of indignation. He
was accused of having written an impious
poem against the Franciscans; yet with the
nature of that poem the inquisitors were
totally unacquainted. The only copy which
he had ever parted with was presented to
his native sovereign, James V., and before
he left France, he had even adopted the
precaution of having the circumstances of
its composition properly explained to the
Portuguese monarch. He was also charged
with having eaten flesh in Lent, though the
practice was universal in Portugal. He was
moreover accused of having alleged, in a
conversation with some young Portuguese,
I
that with respect to the eucharist, St
Augustin appeared to him to be strongly
inclined towards the opinion condemned
by the church of Rome. Two witnesses,
whom he afterwards discovered to be
Joannes Ferrerius, a Piedmontese, who
had visited Scotland, and resided at Kin-
loss, author of a continuation of Boece’s
History of Scotland, and Jean Tulpin, a
doctor of theology, and a native of Nor-
mandy, made a formal deposition of their
having been assured by several respectable
informants, that Buchanan was disaffected
to the Romish faith.
After the inquisitors had harassed Bu—
chanan and themselves for the space of
nearly a year and a half, in order to justify
their proceedings against a scholar of such
celebrity, they sentenced him to be con-
fined to a monastery for some months, for
the purpose of being thoroughly instructed
by the monks ; men by no means destitute
of humanity or abandoned in morals, but
totally unacquainted with religion. In
this confinement he consoled himself with
that unrivalled paraphrase of the Psalms
of David, which placed him first among
modern Latin poets, and will continue to
to be read with delight as long as the
language in which they are written is
understood.
Buchanan was at length restored to
liberty, and apparently with testimonials
in his favour from the monks; for when
he solicited permission of the king to re-
turn to France, he was by him requested
to remain in Portugal ; and was presented
with a small sum of money till he should
be promoted to some station worthy of his
talents.
Buchanan found that his prospect of
being promoted by the Portuguese monarch
was somewhat precarious; and he therefore
determined to abandon a country in which
he had experienced such unworthy treat-
ment. Having embarked in a Candian


GEORGE BUCHANAN.
193



*
vessel, which he found in the port of l son, he recognised in Buchanan a man
Lisbon, he was safely conveyed to England.
Here, however, he did not long remain;
though fair offers were made him to induce
him to stay. The political affairs of Eng-
land bore a very unpromising aspect. A
young prince upon the throne, Edward
VI.; the nobles at variance with one
another; and the minds of the commons
yet in a ferment, on account of their recent
civil commotions [1552]: he arrived in
France about the beginning of the year
1553, at the time the siege of the city of
Metz was raised; and at the earnest re-
quest of his friends, though reluctantly, he
composed a poem on that event, as several
other poets of his acquaintance had pre-
viously celebrated that achievement.
To the French, at this period of his life,
Buchanan appears to have been strongly
attached; and they, with their character-
istic vanity, wished to appropriate as their
own, a poet, the splendour of whose reputa-
tion shed a glory round the country to
which his name was associated. The
warmth of his attachment he expressed in
a poem Adventus in Gallz'am, which he
wrote about this time.
Soon after his return to Paris, he was
appointed a regent in the college of Bon-
court; and in the year 1555, he was called
from that charge by the celebrated marshal
Comte de Brissac, who entertained him as
the domestic tutor of his son, T imoleon de
Cossé. At that period the marshal pre-
sided over the French dominions in Italy;
whither Buchanan was invited to attend
his pupil.
Marshal de Brissac lived in Italy in a
state of princely magnificence. Though
much of his life had been spent amidst the
tumults of war, he appears, like the most
eminent heroes of antiquity, to have culti-
vated the liberal arts amid the din of arms,
and in the camp itself, enjoyed the society
of learned men.

capable of adorning a higher station; and
he accordingly treated him with the utmost
respect and deference. He was even accus-
tomed to place him at the council board
among the principal officers of his army.
To this singular honour Buchanan was
not entitled fi'om his actual acquaintance
with the theory or practice of war: he had
recommended himself by the intuitive saga-
city of his comprehensive mind; and his
original admission arose from a circum—
stance entirely accidental. He happened
to enter an apartment contiguous to the
hall in which the marshal and his officers
were engaged in discussing some measure
of great importance ; and on being arrested
by their debates, he could not refrain
from murmuring his disapprobation of the
opinion supported by the majority. One
of the generals smiled at so unexpected a
salutation; but the marshal having invited
Buchanan into the council, enjoined him
to deliver his sentiments without restraint.
He accordingly proceeded to discuss the
question with his wonted perspicacity, and
to excite the amazement of Brissac and
his officers. In the issue, his suggestions
were found to have been oracular.
Much of Buchanan’s time was devoted
to the study of theology. At that era,
religious controversy exercised the faculties
of a large proportion of mankind; and he
was likewise anxious to place his faith on
the solid foundation of reason. His poeti-
cal studies were not, however, entirely
neglected. It was apparently about this
period that he conceived the design of his
philosophical poem, De Sphcera; which his
future avocations did not suffer him to
draw to a conclusion.
His connexion with the family of Brissac
terminated in the year 1560, when the
flames of civil war had already seized
France, and the friends of civil and reli-
In the preceptor of his l gious liberty had triumphed in Scotland.
212
194
SCOTS WORTHIES.


m._. .. _-___.___’--—-~-__

The precise period of his return has not i tween the old and the newreligion,the latter
been ascertained ; but it is certain that he
was at the Scottish court in January, 1562 ;
and that, in the month of April, he was
officiating as classical tutor to the queen,
who was then in the twentieth year of her
age. Every afternoon she perused with
Buchanan a portion of Livy. The conde-
scensions of royalty win upon the most
austere, and, aided by the fascinating and
elegant manners of a beautiful princess, in
the full bloom and freshness of youth, it
was no wonder that his young sovereign
became an object of ardent admiration to
Buchanan. This he expressed in the dedi-
cation of the first complete edition of his
Psalms, which must have been seen after
Mary arrived in Scotland, and before she
had forfeited the esteem of her friends by
her misconduct.
The era at which Buchanan finally
returned to his native country was highly
important. After a violent struggle be-





had at length prevailed: its doctrines and
discipline received the sanction of parlia-
ment in the year 1560. For the manly
principles of the reformation he had always
cherished a secret affection; and his at-
tachment, as he candidly owns, had been
confirmed by the personal malignity of the
grey fi~iars. As he now resided in a
country where he could avow his sen ti-
ments without restraint, he professed him-
self a member of the reformed church of
Scotland; and this accession to their cause
was duly appreciated by the leaders of the
party. The earl of Moray was then rising
towards that summit of power which he
afterwards attained. He was one of the few
Scottish nobles of the age who reverenced
literature, and patronized its professors.
In the year 1564, queen Mary rewarded
his literary merit by conferring on him the
temporalities of the abbey of Crossraguel ;
which amounted in annual valuation to












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[Crossraguel Abbey, in 1560.] '


GEORGE BUCHANAN.
195


the sum of five hundred pounds in Scottish hendecasyllables, I, in the mean time,
currency. But while he thus enjoyed the present you.
When it shall suit your
favour of the queen, he did not neglect his convenience, I beg you will communicate
powerful friend the earl of Moray.
He prepared for the press his miscellany
entitled Fratres Fraterrimi ; a collection
of satires, almost entirely directed against
the impurities of the popish church. The
absurdity of its doctrines, and the immoral
lives of its priests, afforded him an ample
field for the exercise of his formidable
talents; and he has alternately employed
the weapons of sarcastic irony and vehe-
ment indignation. These he dedicated to
the earl of Moray. For Buchanan he
soon procured a station of some dignity
and importance: as commendator of the
priory of St Andrews, he enjoyed the right
of nominating the principal of St Leonard’s
college; and a vacancy occurring about
the year 1566, he placed Buchanan at the
head of that seminary.
In the year 1567, Buchanan pubhshed
another collection, consisting of Elegiae, Sil-
vm, Hendecasyllabi. From an epistle to his
friend Peter Daniel, prefixed to this publi-
cation, it would appear he still continued
in some situation about court: for he says,
“ Between the occupations of a court and
the annoyance of disease, I have hardly
been able to steal any portion of time, which
I could either devote to my friends or
to myself; and I have therefore been pre-
vented from maintaining a frequent corre-
spondence with my friends, and from col-
lecting my poems which lie so widely
dispersed. For my own part, I was not
extremely solicitous to recall them from
perdition; but as some friends, to whom I
neither can nor ought to refuse any request,
demanded them with such earnestness, I
have employed some of my leisure hours in
collecting a portion, and placing it in a
state of arrangement. \Vith this specimen,
which consists of one book of elegies,
another of miscellanies, and a third of.

I them to Montauré, Des Mesmes, and other
philological friends, without whose advice
I trust you will not adopt any measure
relative to their publication. *5 *
3% it 3% >lt= >X=
In my paraphrase of the Psalms, I have
corrected many typographical errors, and
have likewise made various alterations: I
must therefore request you to advise Ste-
phanus* not to publish a new edition
without my knowledge. Hitherto I have
not found leisure to finish the second book
of my poem De Sphazra; and, therefore,
I have not made a transcript of the first:
as soon as the former is completed, I shall
transmit them to you. Salute in my name
all our friends at Orleans, and such others
as it may be convenient. Farewell. Edin-
burgh, July the twenty-fourth, 1566.”
While he presided over St Leonard’s
college, he appears to have enjoyed the
esteem and confidence of the university.
In 1566, and the two ensuing years, he
was one of the four electors of the rector;
and was nominated a prorector by each of
the three officers who were successively
chosen. For several years, he was likewise
dean of faculty. In the general assemblies
of the national church, convened at Edin-
burgh, during the years 1563 to 1567, he
had the honour of a seat as a “ doctor,”
and was a constant member of its most
important committees. In this last year
he was chosen moderator.
He was now called from the calm pur-
suits of the scholar, poet, and theologian,
to mingle in the arena of civil politics.
After the defeat of the queen at Langside,
in an evil hour she sought refuge in Eng-
land, where the regent was forced by cir-
cui stances to undertake the ungracious
* The celebrated printer in Paris.



196
SCOTS WORTHIES.


task of appearing as the accuser of his
sister and sovereign; and in the perform-
ance of this painful duty he was assisted by
Buchanan, who attended him to the con-
ference at York and Westminster, 1568-9,
and drew up in Latin “ A Detection of
the Doings of Mary Queen of Scots,”
which was extensively circulated by the
English court. Buchanan received much
undeserved reproach, by the appearance,
at this time, of another Latin treatise on
the same subject, “ Actio contra Mariam
Scotorum Reginam,” which was attri-
buted to him, but was written by a Sir
Thomas Smith, a satellite of queen Eliza-
beth, and annexed, in Italic print, to the
“ Detection’7 published in London, in 1571.
The “Detection,” as originally written
by Buchanan, was a concise historical
deduction of facts, preceding the marriage
with Bothwell, such as was absolutely
necessary for understanding the subject,
and vindicating the proceedings of the
_ nobles; written with chaste and classical
precision,—keen but not virulent. But the
Action against Mary is a dull declamation,
and a malignant invective, written in pro-
fessed imitation of the ancient orators,
whom Buchanan has never imitated.
Soon after the assassination of the re~
gent, Buchanan was removed to asituation
of no inconsiderable importance; he was
appointed one of the preceptors of the
young king. The prince had been com-
mitted during his infancy to the charge of
the earl of Mar, a nobleman of the most
unblemished integrity. In 1570, when
Buchanan entered upon his office, he was
only four years of age. The preceptors
associated with Buchanan were Peter
Young, and the two abbots of Cambus-
kenneth and Dryburgh, David and Adam
Erskine, both related to the noble family
of Mar.
Buchanan, during the regency of Moray,


chancery ; which he seems to have retain~
ed but a short while, and probably resigned
on being appointed lord privy seal, under
the regent Lennox, in 1570. His situation
as lord privy seal was undoubtedly honour-
able, and probably lucrative. It entitled
him to a seat in parliament, in whose pro~
eeedings he took an active part, and was
appointed a commissioner on several im~
portant occasions. In 15 78, he formed
one of a commission, including many of
the most illustrious for rank or talent in
Scotland, appointed to examine and digest
the laws of the land; but which was never
carried into execution. He was included
also, in two commissions respecting educa-
tion,-—-the one for supplying a proper Latin
grammar, to be substituted by authority in
all the schools,—the other to inspect and
reform the universities and colleges within
the realm; to displace unqualified teachers,
and to provide persons more competent in
their room. Besides these commissions,
he was associated in one for examining a
“ Book of the Policy of the Kirk.”
During the time that Morton was dis-
placed from the offiee of regent for his
aggrandizing schemes, Buchanan was asso—
ciated with other officers of the state,
appointed by the privy council, to advise
and direct the young monarch,——~an office
which soon became unnecessary by the
return to power of the earl of Morton.
But amidst all these numerous avocations,
his whole soul seems to have been intensely
bent on forming in the mind of his royal
pupil, those principles which alone elevate
the character, and secure the happiness of
a first magistrate in a free state.
Having prepared his tragedy of Baptistes
for the press, he dedicated it to the young
king in the year 15 76. The dedication is
written in such a strain as seldom meets
the royal ear. It is like a solemn prophet-
ical admonition, in which his venerable
appears to have been a director of the I preceptor frees himself from any blame



GEORGE BUCHANAN.
197



which might arise from the consequences i period of life, safely past the dangerous
of his pupil’s misconduct; and with an rocks of adulation; not merely to point out
anxiety but too well grounded, warns him the path, but to keep you in it; and if you
against forsaking the instructions of his
youth.
“ This circumstance,” says he, “ may
seem to bear a more peculiar reference to
you, that it clearly discloses the punish-
ment of tyrants, and the misery which
awaits them even when their prosperity
seems at the height.
now acquire such knowledge, I consider as
That you shouldv

not only expedient, but even necessary, in f
order that you may early begin to hate
what you ought even to shun. I therefore
wish this work to remain as a witness to
posterity, that if impelled by evil coun- .
sellers, or suffering the licentiousness of‘
royalty to prevail over a virtuous educa-
tion, you should hereafter be guilty of any
improper conduct, the fault may be im-
puted, not to your preceptors, but to you
who have not obeyed their salutary ad-
monitions.”
In similar language, and with increasing
anxiety, as if "' age had imparted its mysti-
cal lore.” three years afterwards, he in-
scribed to him the most important of all
his writings, except his History, the trea-
tise, De Jare Regm' apud Scotos. “I
have deemed,” says the venerable teacher,
“this publication expedient, that it may at
once testify my zeal for your service, and
admonish you of your duty to the com-
munity.” Then, after some compliments
to his docility, he adds, “ yet am I com-
Pi'llOd to entertain some slight degree of
suspicion, lest evil communication, the
alluring nurse of the vices, should lend an
unhappy impulse to your still tender
mind ; especially as Iam not ignorant with
what facility the external senses yield to
seduction. I have therefore sent you this

treatise, not only as an advice, but even as
an importunate, and sometimes impudent
exhorter, to direct you at this critical
4
l
l
I
should deviate, to reprove and reclaim
your wanderings, which monitor, if you
obey, you will ensure tranquillity to your-
self and your family, and transmit your
glory to the most remote posterity.”
This treatise, originally written as a
defence of the friends of freedom, with re-
gard to their treatment of the queen, does
not enter upon the discussion of a merely
local question, as to her participation in
the murder of her husband, and her liability
to punishment; but considers in all its bear-
ings the broad but delicate question of
allegiance, and has in view to show, that a
good government alone has a right to
support, and that a bad one ought to be
resisted. At the time of its publication it
had to combat with the accumulated pre-
judices and interests of ages of ignorance
and superstition. It was extensively read
on the continent, and had taken too deep
root in the public mind of Europe to be
eradicated by the imbecile attempts of the
monarch, to whom it was dedicated, to
suppress it. The verdict of some of the
most able writers of our own time, has
assigned it a primary station among the
few books in political science which deserve
to be preserved. “ The science,” says Sir
James Macintosh, “which teaches the
rights of man, the eloquence that kindles
the spirit of fi~eedom, had for ages been
buried with the other monuments of the
wisdom, and relics of the genius of anti-
quity. But the revival of letters first un-
locked, only to a few, the sacred fountain.
The necessary labours of criticism and
lexicography occupied the earlier scholars,
and some time elapsed before the spirit of
antiquity was transfused into its admirers.
The first man of that period who united
elegant learning to original and masculine
thought, was Buchanan; and he, too, seems



198
SCOTS WORTHIES.




to have been the first scholar who caught
from the ancients the noble flame of
republican enthusiasm. This praise is
merited by his neglected, though incom-
parable tract, De lure Regni, in which
the principles of popular politics, and the
maxims of a free government, are de-
livered with a precision, and enforced
with an energy, which no former age
had equalled, and no succeeding has sur-
passed.”
Being new advanced to the seventy-
fourth year of his age, Buchanan composed
a brief sketch of his own life. To this task
he was urged by some of his numerous
friends. This little work is composed with
his usual elegance, and with a degree of
modesty and candour worthy of so illus-
trious a character. So far as it goes it is
followed in its principal features through-
out this memoir.
An instance of his amiable character, at
this advanced period of his life, is mention-
ed by Thomas Jack, teacher of the Gram-
mar School of Glasgow, afterwards minister
of Eastwood. He waited upon Buchanan
to solicit his revisal of a MS. entitled
Onomasticon Poetieum, composed in
Latin verse. He says, “ I found him in
the royal palace of Stirling, diligently en-
gaged in writing his History of Scotland.
He was so far from being displeased with
my interruption, that he cheerfully took
my work into his hands, and after continu-
ing to read two or three pages of it, he
collected together his own papers, which
were scattered on the table, and said, ‘I
will desist from my undertaking, till I have
done what you wish.’ This promise he
accurately performed, and within a few
days, gave me a paper, written with his
own hand, containing such corrections as
he thought necessary.”
His last epistle, addressed to his early
friend Beza, exhibits him in a no less
pleasing point of view :—-“ Although my

_____. .-_W_____,_ ____~__._
attention is divided by various occupations,
and the state of my health is so desperate
as to leave me no leisure for the common
duties of life, yet the departure of Jerome
Groslot has banished all my excuses. For,
as the father, who was a man of distinction,
loaded me during my residence in France
with every species of kindness, and the son
has honoured me here as another parent, I
was aware that among you I could not
escape the heavy charge of ingratitude, if I
should now overlook the kindness which I
experienced from the one, the pleasant in-
tercourse which I have enjoyed with the
other, and the polite attention which you
have uniformly paid me. Yet among those
who are not unacquainted with my present
condition, such a fault would readily find
its apology. It is my best apology, that all
my senses dying before me, what now re-
mains of the image of the former man tes-
tifies, not that I am, but that I have beer.
alive; especially as I can neither cherish
the hope of contracting new intimacies, nor
of continuing the old. These circumstan-
ces I now mention with greater confidence,
as the present occasion affords you an
opportunity of learning my condition from
Groslot; whom it appears superfluous to
recommend to your attention. The dis-
positions of youth disclose themselves with
out our aid. I have however furnished
him with a recommendation, rather to
comply with the common practice, than
because it is requisite. TWith regard to
myself since I cannot continue my former
mode of life by the reciprocation of friendly
offices, I shall refrain fi'om those exertions
' to which I have long been unequal, and
indulge in silence. Farewell. Edinburgh,
July the fifteenth, 15 81.”
The last production which Buchanan
lived to complete was his History of Scot-
land. In the year 1582, it issued from the
office of Alexander Arbuthnot, printer to
the king. It bears the royal privilege, and.



GEORGE BUCHANAN.
199



like other works of the same author, is
dedicated to the young monarch.
In the month of September that year, his
learned friends, Andrew Melville, James
Melville, and his own cousin Thomas Bu-
chanan, provost of the collegiate church of
Kirkheugh, having heard that the work
was in the press, and the author indisposed,
hastened to Edinburgh to pay him a final
visit. James, who was the nephew of
Andrew‘Melville, and professor of divinity
at St Andrews, has in simple terms re--
corded the principal circumstances which
occurred during their interview. Upon
entering his apartment, they found the
greatest genius of the age employed in the
humble though benevolent task of teaching
the horn-book to a young man in his ser-
vice. After the usual salutations, “ I per-
ceive, Sir,” said Andrew Melville, “you are
not idle.” “ Better this,” replied Buchanan,
“ than stealing sheep, or sitting idle, which
is as bad.” He afterwards showed them
his dedication to the young king; and Mel-
ville having perused it, remarked that it
seemed in some passages obscure, and re-
quired certain words to complete the sense,
———“ I can do nothing more,” said Buchanan,
"‘ for thinking of another matter.” “ What
is that ?” rejoined Melville——“ To die.
But I leave that, and many other things
to your care.” Melville likewise alluded
to the publication of Blackwood’s answer
to his treatise De Jure Regm' apud Sco-
z‘os. These visitors afterwards proceeded
to Arbuthnot’s printing-office, to inspect a
work which had excited such high expec-
tation. They found the impression had
proceeded as far as the passage relative to
the interment of David Rizzio; and being
alarmed at the unguarded boldness with
which the historian had there expressed

himself, they requested the printer to de-
Having returned to Buchanan’s I
In answer
sist.
house, they found him in bed.
to their friendly inquiries, he informed?
them that he was “ even going the way of
welfare.” His kinsman then proceeded to
state their apprehensions respecting the
consequence of publishing so unpalatable a
story, and to suggest the probability of its
inducing the king to prohibit the entire
work. “ Tell me, man,” said Buchanan,
if I have told the truth.” “ Yes, Sir,” re-
plied his cousin, “ I think so.” “ Then,”
rejoined the dying historian, “ I will abide
his feud, and all his kin’s. Pray to God
for me, and let him direct all.” And so,
subjoins the original narrative, “ by the
printing of his chronicle was ended, that
most learned, wise, and godly man, ended
this mortal life.”
This visit he survived about a twelve-
month, and it would have been gratifying
to know, whether he ever received any
mark of gratitude or kindness from his
royal pupil, during the whole of his pro-~
'tracted illness~presumptions are against
it. Thaunus informs us, that James re-
quired his preceptor to retract what he had
written with so much freedom respecting
the queen his mother, and leave to posterity
some formal testimony of his compunction.
He at first returned an evasive answer, but
being afterwards importuned by repeated
messages, he made this final declaration:—
That he could not recall what he had
written in the full conviction of its truth;
but that after his decease it would be in
the king’s power to adopt such measures
with regard to his writings as he might
judge expedient. He, however, admonished
him to proceed with mature deliberation;
and to reflect, that although God had in-
trusted supreme power to kings, yet that
truth, which derives its strength from God,
is as superior to their control as God is
superior to man.
Tradition adds, that about this time, in
one of the several messages he sent to him,
5the king required his presence at court,
within twenty days, under pain of his dis—




200
SCOTS WORTHIES.






pleasure; but that he, finding his death
approaching, sent him back a letter of ad-
monition relative to the government vof his
kingdom, and well-being of his people ; and ’
told him, that he could run the hazard of
his majesty’s displeasure without danger;
for that “ by the time limited, he would be
where few kings or great men should be
honoured to enter.” At reading which, it
is said, the king wept.
It is uncertain whether he lived to see
his great work pullished: he was, how-
ever, spared the pain of seeing the attempts
of his ungrateful pupil to suppress it, and
what would have been more galling to his
virtuous spirit, the sycophancy of a Scottish
parliament seconding the wishes of an un-
disguised, but happily a weak despot, in a
country, heretofore the land of freedom.
Buchanan expired a short while after
five o’clock, on the morning of Friday the
twenty-eighth of September, 1582. He
was then in the seventy-seventh year of his
age. His remains were interred in the
cemetery of the Grey Friars; and his un-
grateful country never afforded his grave
the common tribute of a monumental
stone. After an interval of some years,
his tomb was opened; and his skull, or at
least a skull supposed to be his, was, by the
intervention of principal Adamson, deposi-
ted in the library of the university of
Edinburgh. It is so thin as to be trans-
parent.
Buchanan had consecrated a monument
of his own fame, composed of materials
more permanent than brass or marble; but
his country has at. length afforded him one
of those memorials which are of least
value when most merited, and which con-
tribute more to the honour of the living
than of the dead. An obelisk, nineteen
feet square at the base, and extending to
the height of one hundred and three feet,
Was lately erected by subscription to his
memory at the village of Killearn.
Buchanan had experienced many of the
vicissitudes of human life, and, in every

5 situation, had adhered to those maxims of
conduct which he deemed
His integrity was stern and inflexible: 1
what has been regarded as the least im-
maculate part of his character, naturally
resulted from the prominent qualities of a
mind which could not sufficiently accommo-
date itself to the frailties of mankind. But
‘ the age in which he lived was rude and bois-
,terous; nor did the exquisite cultivation
of his mind entirely defend him from the
general contagion. He was subject to the
nice and irritable feelings which frequently
attend exalted genius; enthusiastic in his
attachment, and violent in his resentment;
equally sincere in his love and in his
hatred. His friends, among whom he
numbered many of the most distinguished
characters of that era, regarded him with
a warmth of affection which intellectual
eminence cannot alone secure. Of an
open and generous disposition, he displayed
the enviable qualities which render domes-
tic intercourse profitable and interesting.
The general voice had awarded him a pre- l
eminence in literature that seemed to pre
elude all hopes of rivalship; but his esti'
mate of his own attainments was uniformly
consistent with perfect modesty; and no
man could evince himself more willing to
acknowledge genuine merit in other can-
' didates for fame. This affability, united
to the charms of a brilliant conversation,
rendered his society highly acceptable to
persons of the most opposite denomina-
tions. His countenance was stern and
austere; but his heart soft and humane.
His patriotism was of that unadulterated
species which flows from general philan-
thropy: his large soul embraced the com-
1 mon family of mankind; but his affections
i taught him that his first regards were due
1 to the barren land from which he derived
honourable
_' birth. Notwithstanding his long habi'

_.__
GEORGE BUCHANAN. 20]




tuation to an academical life, his manners itself. By the universal suffrage of the
betrayed none of the peculiarities of a mere !
pedagogue. The native elegance of his
mind, and the splendour of his reputation,
secured him the utmost respect and defer-
ence from such of his countrymen as were
not separated from him by the rancour of
political zeal; and although he even
assumed considerable latitude in censuring
the errors of exalted station, yet the digni-
fied simplicity of his manners prevented~
his liberties fi'om exciting resentment.
Conscious of personal worth and of intrin-
sic greatness, he did not fail to assert his
own privileges: mere superiority of rank
was not capable of alluring him to a servile
and degrading attachment; but it was
equally incapable of provoking his envy or
malice. Of the truth of the Christian
religion, and consequently of its eternal
moment, his conviction seems to have been
complete and uniform. The nature of his
attachment to the reformation was consist-
ent with his usual wisdom: he eagerly
embraced the doctrine of the reformed.
Nor was the genius of Buchanan less
variegated than his life. In his numerous
Writings, he discovers a vigorous and ma-
ture combination of talents which have sel-
dom been found united in equal perfection.
To an imagination excursive and brilliant,
he unites an undeviating rectitude of judg-
ment. His learning was at once elegant,
various, and profound: in philosophical
dialogue and historical narrative ; in lyric
and didactic poetry; in elegy, epigram,
and satire ; he has never been equalled in
modern, and hardly surpassed in ancient
times.
George Buchanan was born in an age
of little refinement, and enjoyed none of
the early advantages which result from
hereditary wealth; but his intrinsic great-
ness of mind enabled him to emerge from
original obscurity, and to earn a reputation
which can only decay with literature

learned, he has been stationed near the
summit of modern renown; but his moral
qualities are sometimes considered as more
equivocal. His character has however
been subjected to a most rigid and in-
human scrutiny: his genuine actions have
been misrepresented, if not with all the
powers, certainly with all the propensities,
of the vilest sophistry; and many fictitious
actions have been industriously imputed to
him, for the sake of completing the picture
of his iniquities. He has a thousand times
been upbraided with horrible ingratitude
for favours which he never received. To
prove the purest of mankind guilty of the
most heinous crimes, will always be ex-
tremely easy, where passion and prejudice
are permitted to supply every deficiency of
evidence; where the witnesses are stran-
gers to common veracity, and the judges
utterly unable or unwilling to appreciate
their testimony. The character of
Buchanan excited the respect and even
the veneration of contemporaries highly
distinguished for their moral virtues, and
for their intellectual endowments; and it
unquestionably suggests another strong
presumption in his favour, that notwith-
standing all the persevering anxiety of a
regular succession of enemies, political and
theological, his long and chequered life has
actually been found to betray so few of the
frailties inseparable from humanity. His
stern integrity, his love of his country and
of mankind, cannot fail of endearing his
memory to those who possess congenial
qualities; and such errors as he really
committed, will not perhaps be deemed
unpardonable by those who recollect that
they are also men.
“ He was a man,” says Sir James Mel-
ville, “ of notable endowments, great learn-
ing, and an excellent Latin poet; he was
much honoured in foreign countries ; plea-
sant in conversation, into which he happily



2 c
202
SCOTS WORTHIES.



introduced short moral maxims, which his
invention readily supplied him with, upon
any emergency.” His works that are now
extant, make two folio volumes. The
pamphlet, going under the title of “ the

witty exploits of George Buchanan,” seems
to be spurious; although it is certain he
pronounced many witty sayings, of which
the greater number were never committed
to writing.

JOHN ERSKINE 0F DUN.

JOHN ERSKINE, descended of the ancient
and honourable family of Dun, was born
in the year 1509, at the family seat near
Montrose, in the shire of Angus and the
Mearns. In his youth he attended, most
probably, the university of Aberdeen, and
afterwards travelled abroad for the purpose
of improving and perfecting his education,
by attendance at some of the foreign schools
and universities.
In the year 1534, we find him returned
home, and in possession of his estate. At
this time the merchants of Dundee, Mon-
trose, and other towns, carried on an ex-
tensive trade with England, Holland, and
France. From these places they imported
Tyndale’s translation of the Scriptures,
as well as books written against popery;
and the accounts which at the same time
reached this country of the progress of the
reformation in Germany, induced many to
read and inquire concerning religion, and
to receive impressions very unfavourable to
popery. These influences, and the con-
versation he had with ministers and other
serious persons, both abroad and at home,
operating upon the mind of Erskine, he

became a convert to the protestant faith;
and he was also eminently instrumental in
the conversion of David Straiton, who, on
the 27th of August of this year, was
executed at Edinburgh for his profession
of the reformed religion
The castle of Dun was always open as
an asylum for the persecuted preachers
and professors of the protestant faith, where
they enjoyed christian communion. Mr
Erskine was appointed an “ exhorter” long
before he became a regular minister among
the reformers. “ Exhorters” were a class
of men, whose duty consisted in expoundin g
the Scriptures. Being provost of Men-
trose, he procured for George Wishart the
appointment to be master of the grammar
school.
In the war with England, which began
September, 1548, he took an active part:
and his able and gallant defence of the
town of Montrose, is particularly noticed.
The following account as given by Beagué,
will be read with interest.
“ The English fleet came secretly thither
expecting no opposition. The Laird of
Dun, by reason of the valetudinary state of


JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
203


his health, chanced to be at home at the
time. This gentleman had a large stock
of wisdom and honesty; and being admi-
rably well seen in war, was not ignorant
that the smallest oversights usher in for
the most part, inconveniencies of the
highest importance, namelie, where access
is easy. For this reason, though his illnes
pleaded for rest, he never retired at night
till he had first visited the guard of a fort,
. . . l
which, with 1ncred1ble dlhgence, he had
caused to be reared at the mouth of the
harbour of Montrose: then after weakning,
or doubling the guard as he found expe-
dient, and leaving proper orders behind
him, he retired to his own house, or stayed
in the town of Monross; and was frequently
wont to say, ‘ That as men of honnour
are bound to fear shame, so they are by
the same rule oblidged not to shun dangers
or troubles.’ When the English fleet
approached, he hapned to see a great many
ships not far of. Behold a singular ex-
ample of what a ready wit can effect upon
the most urging necessitys. The Laird of
Dun having discovered the enimys fleet,
and looking for the worst, a consideration
seldome lyable to the pains of repenting,
gave orders to some of his men to man the
best ships in the harbour, and impede the
enimie’s ingress that way; he commanded
others to guard the fort, and sent off
some to the town, with orders to go about
in a privat way among the Burgesses, sea-
men, and others, to cause them to take
armes. He left orders with them in their
respective posts, and he himself marched
with a party against the enimie. To com-
pass his aim with the more caution, he
left a part of his men out of the town in
an advantageous place, formerly fortifyed,
to secure his retrait, and advanced with
the most nimble, with that secrecy and
diligence, that he discovered the enimies
frigates sailing to and froe with their men
in them landing. Having thus penetrated

into the plot, he withdrew to his party he
had left without the town; and having
placed centinells in proper posts, to prevent
surprizes, he reentered the town. By this
time a thousand of the inhabitants wer in
armes ; of them he picked out three hun-
dred, and ordered them out to joyn their
friends at the trenches, the remainder he
thought unfitt for action, and ordered two
gentlmen in whom he could confide to lead
them, with the ship boyes and populace, to
the back of a mountain which looks down
upon that place wher the enimy landed.
These gentlmen he ordered to lye closs till
he gave the signall, the second fire of his
artillery, and then to draw all their com-
pany in the best order they could, and
shew themselves at a distance to the Eng-
lish. He had laizour enough to put his
signe in execution. The English knew
litle of the country, and though six or eight
hundred men wer landed, they had not
stirred from the shore. By the break of
day they hastned to the town, full of hopes
and expecting no opposition. The Laird
of Dun with his men in the trenches, gave
them a terrible onsett, and their arrowes
flew so quick that many of them wer over-
whelmed before they knew from whence
or by whom the storm was poured down.
The Scots who lay in ambush, charged the
enimy at this rate four or five times, till they
rallyed and offered to repell the shock, the
ambush retired with order and inconsider-
able loss to the trenches. The English
pursued with incredible speed, wher the
Scots with the shot of their arrowes and
fire of their arquebushes cut off a great
many of the formost, and mentained their
post against the remainder, without coming
to hardy blowes. Thus, the Laird of Dun’s
orders and dispositions wer exactly execu-
ted, and now all being ready for his intend-
ed project, and apprehensive that the heat
of action should warm his men to an excess
of forwardnes, he began insensibly to draw


‘J
9
SCOTS WORTHIES.
04


them behind the trenches. This he
did so cunningly, that the enimies scarce
perceived the insensible retiring, till they
saw him retire with the last. Upon this
the English pursued briskly, as he expected,
and then the Laird of Dun commanded
three feild pieces which he had brought
thither to be discharged, which by reason
of the nearnes and confusion of the enimie,
did them a worlde of mischeife. After
this the Scots broke out again, with a
great cry, and their swords in hand, with
incredible and irresistible fury. Mean-
while, the signall being given, the detach-
ment which the Laird of Dun had loged
on the back of the hill, made all the
neighbourhood resound with shouts and
huzzas, and failed not to show themselves
as ordered at a convenient distance; they
appeared in the form of a four-square
battalion, and wer so skilfully ranked,
though their weepons wer ridiculouse, that
the enemy took them to be armed accord-
ing to the French fashion and concluded
they wer about to cut off their retreat.
This struck them with terrour, and made
them run to the sea with the grea[te]st
disorder that fancy can represent. They
ne[ver] once looked back on the pursuing
Scots, who chased them so eagerly, and
made such havock among them, that of
nine hundred not one hundred gote to their
ships. The fleet putt to sea and retired.
The Laird of Dun divided the spoils of the
vanquished among his men, and returned
to the town with the glory of a victory,
that was owing not only to valour and
vigilancy, but to such a nice piece of mar-
tiall cunning, as at once elevated the spirits
of his own people, and intimidated the
enimy so very much, that at last they
broke their ranks, and tamely permitted
their throats to be cut.”*
* Beagué’s "History of the Campaigns, 1.548
and1549.” Edin. 1707.
1
In the autumn of the year 1555, and
shortly after Knox’s arrival from Geneva,
the laird of Dun held a conference at his
lodgings in Edinburgh upon the unlawful-
ness of communion with papists. Mr
Knox pointed out the sinfulnes's of it so
forcibly, that a great secession was made
from the popish meetings; and the reform-
ers resolved that so soon as a protestant
minister could be procured, the sacrament
of the Lord’s Supper should be administer-
ed to them according to the plan adopted
by the reformed churches abroad. Soon
after this Mr Erskine left Edinburgh for
his family-seat of Dun, Mr Knox quickly
following, and residing with him for about
a month, where the latter daily preached
the gospel, and dispensed the sacrament to
most of the gentlemen of the county of
Mearns and Angus, all engaging to oppose
idolatry to the utmost.
In December 1557, the parliament
assembled, and having named eight com-
missioners, among whom was the laird of
Dun, to proceed to France to be present
at the marriage of the young queen with
the dauphin, they set sail in February
1558. They returned in October follow-
ing, after a voyage of great disaster ; some
of the commissioners having died, not with-
out suspicion of having been poisoned.
After the martyrdom of Walter Mill,
the last who suffered previous to the refor-
mation, the professors of the protestant
religion grew more bold, and in the sum-
mer of 1558, held their meetings for wor-
ship in public, and were countenanced by
the presence of the laird of Dun, and lord
James, prior of St Andrews, both of whom
had returned safe from the embassy to
France.
The English queen, Mary, having died
November 15th of the same year, and her
sister Elizabeth, who succeeded her, being
a protestant, she gave her countenance
and support to the reformers in Scotland.


JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
205


~._du

The laird of Dun was one of the peti-
tioners to the queen regent of Scotland,
who, being chiefly guided by the popish
bishops, persecuted her protestant subjects,
and was strongly opposed to the spread of
the principles of the reformation. The
petitioners requested permission to worship
God, “according to the dictates of their
own conscience,” and also desired that
their ministers should be freed from obey-
ing the proclamation which enjoined their
attendance at Stirling the 10th day of
May, 1559, under pain of rebellion. The
laird of Dun being anxious for the safety
of the ministers, and at the same time
wishing to preserve peace, proposed to the
congregation then at Perth, that he should
proceed to Stirling, and endeavour to give
the queen advice, contrary to that which
she had received from her popish coun-
sellers. The queen regent even signified
her wish to have a conference with him;
but this was only used as a pretext for de-
lay, till she had accomplished her design
with the parliament, of vesting in the
dauphin, the succession to the crown of
Scotland. After some conference with the
queen, who used all her wonted dissimula-
tion, the laird of Dun became impressed
with her sincerity, and wrote letters to the
congregation, that the queen had acceded
to his requests; and that the ministers
were not to be tried, but might return to
their homes. At the reading of his letters,
a few were disposed to put confidence in
the queen regent’s promises—but the
greater portion of the barons and gentle-
men were of opinion that the laird of Dun
had been deceived, and therefore deter--
mined to remain at Perth until after the

10th of May, or until the proclamation
should be withdrawn. v
ing failed to appear, in consequence of the l
The ministers hav-
device of the queen regent, she immediately
gave orders to put them all to the horn,
for
non-compearance, and likewise to
l . .
‘ pumsh all who should presume to asslst or
maintain them. The laird of Dun arrived
at Perth on the evening of the 10th May,
with these evil tidings, which put the con-
gregation into a state of great consterna-
tion; and the excitement consequent on
the deceit thus practised, contributed in no
small degree to the pulling down of the
monuments of idolatry at St Johnston and
Scoon, on the following day. But the laird
of Dun and Knox were conspicuous in
their endeavours to quell the ferment thus
occasioned by the double-dealing of the
queen and her popish advisers.
In the following year, the laird of Dun
was employed in conducting some of the
most arduous affairs of the nation. He was
one of those appointed to sign the instruc-
tions given to the Scots commissioners,
dated at Glasgow, February 10th, 1560,
who went to Berwick to treat with the
Duke of Norfolk, for assistance from Eng-
land against the French troops, who at this
time held possession of Leith. The com-
missioners having acted according to their
instructions, aid was sent from England,
under the command of lord Gray of Wilton,
who succeeded in expelling the French ;*‘
and by the treaty of Leith, which was
signed May 10th, 1560, the reformation
was finally established.
On the death of the queen regent, which
happened in June following, a. convention of
the estates was held to take the affairs of the
church into their consideration, and to
allocate the few ministers that were among
them, according to the necessities of the
different parts of the country. At this time
the First Book of Discipline was produced,
which contained an act, ordaining ecclesi-
astical superintendents. They nominated
' For an account of the siege. the curious reader
is referred to “ The Siege of Leith,” in Church-
yard’s “ Chips concerning Scotland,” pp. 88-] 15.
The author served in the English army, and was
actively engaged.



206
SCOTS WORTHIES.



five, agreeably to the “First Book,” and
the laird of Dun was appointed to the
superintendence of Angus and Mearns.
On December 10th, 1560, the first
National or General Assembly was held.
The early assemblies watched strictly over
the conduct of their superintendents;
and in that which was held, December
25th, 1562, it was proposed that the laird
of Dun should be removed from acting as
superintendent of Angus and Mearns: it
was observed, that he had permitted popish
priests to read in kirks within his diocese;
that young men were admitted to be ex-
horters, without the necessary examina-
tion laid down in the “First Book of
Discipline,”-——that gentlemen of vicious
lives were chosen to be elders—and that
sundry ministers came late to the kirk,
unnecessarily detaining the people, and
causing them to depart immediately after
sermon. The superintendent being called
in, tendered his resignation of the commis-
sion he had received from the assembly-—
stating that the office was one of much
difficulty and responsibility; and, from the
declining state of his health, he wished to
be freed from it—at the same time, he pro-
mised to do all in his power to remedy the
evils complained of.
The laird of Dun was chosen Moder—
ator of the eleventh general assembly,
which met December 1565. Among the
first subjects which they took up, was the
conduct of the superintendents—and they
entered a complaint against the moderator
that his visitation was not so close as
it ought to be. He admitted with his
usual candour, that he had not visited the
kirks for two months bypast, but alleged
in vindication, that during the time, he
lodged with his friends who had most need
of correction and discipline—he therefore
besought the assembly to provide some
other for the office; a request, which in
the humility of his spirit he frequently

made; but the assembly always declined to
grant his desire. Erskine was continued
moderator of the next two assemblies——
and towards the end of the thirteenth
(December 1566), he again claimed to be
“ exonered from the burdensome calling,”
on account of the weak state of his health;
but they would not altogether free him
from his charge, only allowing him to
appoint some of the best qualified within
his bounds, to visit when he found himself
unable to perform the duty.
Next year, he took a prominent part in
the important ceremony of the coronation
of James VI., which took place at Stirling.
July 29th, 1567.
After the assembly of 1569, a commis-
sion was given to Erskine to visit the
bounds of Aberdeen, and particularly the
university. Here he deposed from their
offices five members of kings college, who
remained obstinate in their popish faith.
We do not find that they were taxed with
any immorality ; but, according to the act
of parliament which was passed at Edinw
burgh, 24th August, 1560, their tenets
rendered them unfit for the office of teach-
ers of youth.
On the 28th of July, 1569, the “good
regent” called a convention of the estates
to be held at Perth, to consider a matter
of vital importance to the reformers. This
was an application fi'om lord Boyd to
the regent, in name of queen Mary, backed
with letters from the English ministers
of state, containing proposals for the return
of the queen to Scotland. Of this con-
vention the laird of Dun was member for
the town of Montrose.
A circumstance is related that took place
next year, which shows that the pious life,
led by the laird of Dun,was acknowledged in
a remarkable way—he having had, like the
prophets of old, arevelation of the death of
the “good regent,” which happened at Lin~
lithgow on the 23d January, 15 70. The


JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
207




following is Wodrow’s account, as handed “ I thought it expedient in write to let
down on the authority of two ministers of your Grace know my judgment in these
the church, who at one time resided in the articles and heads conteaned in your
family of Dun. “ The regent was over in Grace’s last writing. As to the pension
Lochleven with the earl of Northumber- appointed before unto the Regent’s house,
land, whom he had catched after the late as I understand, litle difficulty will be
rebellion raised by him and other papists therin, your Grace doing your duty to the
in England was suppressed; and had been Kirk, the which I pray God your Grace
made prisonerthere about the 2d of January. may do. As to the provision of benefices,
He came and lodged with the superintend- this is my judgment. All benefices or
cut of Angus, in the house of Dun, where teinds, or having teinds joyned or annexed
they yet know the large window at the thereunto, which is taken up of the peoples
end of the old hall there, which looked out labors, have the offices joined unto them;
to a pleasant green. The earl of Moray, which office is the preaching of the Evan-
and the laird of Dun were standing in that gell and ministration of the sacraments ;
window, conversing closely upon important and this office is spirituall, and belongeth
matters, with their faces looking towards to the Kirk, who only hath the distribu-
the green. \Vhile the regent was talking, tion and ministration of spirituall things ;
the superintendent suddenly looked about so be the Kirk spirituall offices are distri-
to him, and with the greatest sorrow and buted, and men received and admitted
tears in his eyes, after he had been silent therunto; and the administration of the
for some time, at length interrupted the re- power is committed be the Kirk to Bishops
gent with these words, ‘Ah ! woes me, my or Superintendants, wherfor to the Bishops
lord, for what I perceive is to befall you and Superintendants perteaneth the exami-
shortly, for in a fortnight’s time you will nation and admission of men to offices and
be murdered.’ Such hints of future things Benefices of spirituall cure, whatsoever
were not uncommon among our reformers, benefice it be, as well Bishopricks, Ab-
as I have more than once noticed. And bacys and Priories, as other benefices
the regent had several fore notices of his inferior. That this perteaneth by the
hazard, as well as this, and too little re- Scriptures of God to the Bishops or Super-
garded them.” intendants is manifest, for the Apostle
After the murder of the earl of Moray, Paul writeth in the 2d to Timothy, chap.
the earl of Mar was appointed regent, and 2, ver. 2, ‘These things that thou hast
the laird of Dun entered into a correspond- heard of me, many being witness, the same
ence with him, in which he showed his deliver to faithfull men, who shall be able
great zeal for the liberties of the church. to teach others.’ Here the Apostle refer-
His first letter, dated 10th November 1571, reth the examination to Timothy of the
appears to have been a reply to several quality and ability of the persons, wher he
heads or questions issued by the regent on sayeth, ‘to men able to teach others,’ and
the subject of the application of church rents also the admonition he referreth, wher he
to the uses of government,—on presen- biddeth deliver to him, the same that is
tations to bishops,——and on the superseding able to teach others; and in another
of superintendents by bishops; and as it place, 1 Tim. chap. 5, ver. 22, ‘ Lay hands
contains distinct answers to all these ques- ’ on no man sudainly, neither be partaker of
tions, exhibiting a view of his opinions on other men’s sins, keep thyself pure.’ By
these subjects, it is here given entire. ( laying on of hands, is understood admission




208
SCOTS WORTHIES.




V
to spirituall offices, which the Apostle will concerning the preisthood, wherupon fol-
not that Timothy do suddenly, without lowed [the] destruction of that king, and
just examination of their manners and
doctrine. The Apostle also writing to
Titus, Bishop of Crete, putteth him in
remembrance of his office, which was to
admitt, and appoint ministers in every city
and congregation; and that he should not
do the same rashly, without examination,
he expresses the quality and conditions of
such men as should be admitted, as at
lenth is conteaned in the first chapter of
the Epistle forsaid. The deacons which
wer chosen in Jerusalem be the whole
congregation, wer received and admitted
by the Apostles, and that by laying on of
their hands, as St Luke writeth in the 6th
chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. This
we have expressed plainly by the Scriptures,
That to the office of a Bishop perteaneth
examination and admission to spirituall
cure and oflice, and also to oversee them
that are admitted, that they walk uprightly,
and also exercise their office faithfully and
purely. To take this power from a Bishop
or Superintendant, is to take away the
office of a Bishop, that no bishop be in the
Kirk, which were to alter and abolish the
order that God hath appointed in his Kirk.
Ther is a spirituall power and jurisdiction
which God hath given to his Kirk, and to
those who hear office therin, and ther is a
temporall jurisdiction given of God to
kings and civil magistrates. Both the
powers are of God, and most agreing to
the fortifying one another, if they be right
used. But when the corruption of man
entereth in, confounding the offices, usurp-
ing to himself what he pleaseth, nothing
regerding the good order appointed by
God, then confusion followeth in all estates.
In the first Book of the Kings, 12 chap., it
is written that J eroboam the King, in pre-
sumption of his authority, made Preists in
his realme, express against the order which I

his seed also, as also of all other kings who
followed him in that wickednes. For
better understanding of this matter, Christ
hath given forth a rule which ought to be
weighed of magistrates, and of all people,
saying, ‘ Give to Caesar that pertaineth to
Caesar, and to God that which pertaineth
unto God.’ The Kirk of God should
fortify all lawfull power and authority that
pertaineth to the civil magistrat, because
its the ordinance of God, but if he pass the
bounds of his office, and enters the sanc-
tuary of our Lord, medling with such
things as appertean to the ministers of
God’s Kirk, as Uzziah King of Judah, 2
Paralip. 16, entering into the temple to
burn incense, the which pertained not to
his office, then the servants of God should
withstand his unjust interprize, as the
Preists at that time did withstand the
Kings of Judah, for so they are command
ed of God. The servants of God, when
such wickednes occurreth, should not keep
silence, flattering princes in their vain
pride, but withstand and reprove them in
their iniquity ; and who doth otherwise in
God’s Kirk, is unworthy to bear any office.
A greater offence and contempt of Kirk can no prince do, than to set up by
his own authority men in spirituall offices,
as to creat Bishops and Pastors of the
Kirk, for so to do is to conclude no Kirk
of God to be, for the Kirk cannot be,
without it have the awn proper jurisdiction
and liberty, with the ministration of such
offices as God hath appointed. In speaking
this of the liberty of the Kirk, I mean not
the hurt of the King, or others in their
patronages, but that they have their privi-
ledges of presentation according to the
lawes, providing alwise that the examina-
tion and admission pertean only to the
Kirk, of all benefices having cure of souls.
the Lord in those dayes had appointed 1 That it should not appear that the pastors




JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
209




of the Kirk, of avarice and ambition, seek
to have posesion of great benefices, your
Grace shall understand, that the Kirk
continoually hath suited (of old as well as
of new) as their articles concluded in the
General Assemblys, and consented to, and
subscribed by the most part of the nobility,
which are to be produced, bear, and was
propounded to the Queen, the King’s
Majestys mother, to wit, that whenever
any of the great Benefices vake, having
many Kirks joyned thereunto, that all the
Kirks should be divided, and severally dis-
poned to severall men, to serve every one
at his own Kirk continow ; wherfor it may
appear that they seek not of avarice such
promotion is alledged. And I doubt not
but if others of the nobility wer as well
purged of avarice, and other corruption, as
the ministers of the Kirk, they would have
agreed to fulfill that thing which they
subscribed with solemn oath. And as yet
the Kirk most humbly suiteth your Grace,
and councill to have the same fulfilled, but
if this cannot be granted, I mean the dis-
membering, as they call it, of great bene-
fices, I trust, in respect of this confused
troublsome time, the Kirk will consent
(the benefices and offices joyned thereunto
being given, after the order before spoken
of, that the privilcdge and liberty of the
Kirk be not hurt,) to assign such profites
as may be spared above the reasonable
sustentation of the ministry, to the mente-
nance of the authority and common affairs
for the present, while further order maybe
tane in these matters; for the Kirk con-
tendeth not for worldly profite, but for that
spirituall liberty which God hath given
unto it, without the which be granted, the
servants of God will not be satisfyed, but
will oppose themselves against all power
and tyranny, which prcsumeth to spoil the
Kirk, of the liberty therof, and rather to
dye than underly that miserable bondage.
Their lives are not so dear to them as is
the honour of God, and liberty of his Kirk.
I hear some men bragg and boasts the
poor ministers of God, to take their lives
from them, but I wish such men contean
themselves within bounds, for they are not
sure of their own lives, and to runn that
race will make it more short. Of old, the
Papists called the truth heresy, and now
some call the truth treason. We may
perceive in all ages and times Satan
wanteth not his servants to impugne the
truth. As to the question, If it be expe~
dient for a Superintendant to be wher a
qualifyed Bishop is? I understand a
Bishop and Superintendant to be but one
office, and wher the one is, the other is.
But having some respect to the case wher-
upon the question is moved, I answer, the
Superintendants that are placed, ought to
continow in their offices, notwithstanding
any other intruse themselves, or are placed
be such as have no power in such offices.
They may be called Bishops, but are no
Bishops, but idols, Zach. 11. 17, saith the
Prophet, and therfor the Superintendants
which are called and placed by the Kirk,
have office and jurisdiction, and the other
Bishops, so called, have no office and
jurisdiction in the Kirk of God, for they
enter not by the dore, but by another way,
and therefore are not pastors, as saith

Christ, but thieves and robbers. I cannot
but from my very heart lament that great
misorder used in Stirling at the last Par-
liament, in creating Bishops, planting them
and giving them vote in Parliament as
Bishops, in despite of the Kirk, and high
contempt of God, having the Kirk opposing
itself against that misorder, but they wer
not heard, but boasted with threatnings;
but their boasting is not against man, but
against the Eternall God, whose ordinance
publickly they transgressed, what followed
thereupon is knowen. God hath power to
destroy and to save, he is Almighty Lord,

able to preserve the innocent, and cast
21)
210
SCOTS WORTHIES.


down the pride of the mighty. I hear that
some wer offended with the commissioners
of the Kirk at that time, but without cause,
for they passed not the bounds of their

commission, and the whole Kirk will affirm ‘
their proceedings, and insist further in that
matter. If that misordered creation of
Bishops be not reformed, the Kirk will
first complean unto God, as also to all
their brethren members of the Kirk within
this realme, and to all reformed Kirks
within Europ. Some counsellors think now
good time to eonquess from the Kirk
(being, as they judge, now poor and weak,)
priviledges and profits to the temporall
authority, but if ther wer no other parti-
cular respects but the authority, I judge
they would not travell so bussily; but what
respect soever they have, their unrightious
conquest and spoil of the Kirk, shall not
profit them, but rather be a cause to bring
plagues and destruction both upon the
head and counselors of such an abomina-
tion. Because the servants of the Lord
speak in this matter, reproving mens cor-
ruptions, they are called proud, and mis-
knowers of their own place, and know not
with whom they deal, as though they wer
gods, and yet are but flesh. Let such men
understand of whatsoever state they be,
that the ministers of God’s Kirk have
received an office of God above them,
wherunto they ought to be subject and
obedient, and have received a ritcher threa-
sure than they, though it be in earthen
vessels, as saith the Apostle Saint Paul,
2 Cor. chap. 4. ver. 7. And have received
a power of God to cast [down] and destroy
the pride of men, and to bring in subjection
all things that exalt themself against God,
2 Cor. 10. 5. The Lord will not that his
servants in executing and using their office
should fear men, how mighty and potent
soever they appear to be, as it is written,
Esai. 51. 7. ‘ Fear not the reproaches of
men, neither be affrayed of their rebukes



and threatnings, for the moth shall eat
them up like a garment, and the worm
\ shall eat them as wool; but my righti-
ousnes shall be for ever, and my salvation
fi'om generation to generation.’ The Spirit
of God entering into the hearts of his
servants, giveth them such a tast of his
power and majesty, and a sight of his
judgments, that with them the enimies 01‘
God and his Kirk are nothing regarded,
but counted as dust before the wind, and
as wax before the fire, unable to stand, but
are to perish in the day of the Lords visi-
tation. They will, according to their power,
reprove all ungodlines, and withstand all
iniquity ; and as to the malice and trouble
raised against them by the wicked powers
of the worlde to their own damnation, they
will patiently endure, for there consisteth
the patience of the saints, for they see a
glorious end to follow thereupon. Some
men in their corruption, (as their minds
have declared,) purpose in time of trouble,
craftily to handle the Kirk, while all their
troubles be pacifyed. Let such men under-
stand that such evil purposes make the
trouble to continew the longer. But
though the troubles wer pacifyed, and they
confederat with England, France, and
Spain, and all other earthly kingdomes,
yet shall they not be able to destroy the
Kirk of God, and liberty therof, for the
mighty God who hath been a protector of
his Kirk in all ages, and hath destroyed
and casten down great ‘impyres and king-
domes that made battail against his Kirk,
shall use the same judgments against all
men that in their days intend the like; for
he beareth to his Kirk a perpetuall love
and is a perpetuall protection and defence
to it in this time and for ever. An admo-
nition of Davids to Kings and magistrates,
‘ Be wise, O! ye Kings, be learned, O! ye
that are Judges of the earth, serve the
Lord with fear, and rejoyce before him
with reverence. Kisse the Son lest the









JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
211


Lord be angry, and so ye perish from the kindled,’ I conclude with. Of Montrose
right way, for his wrath shall be shortly the 10th of November, 1571.”*

[The Town of Montrose, in 1571.]
The earl of Morton, at this time, was
extremely urgent to have Mr Douglas
presented to the see of St Andrews, that
the profits of the benefice might revert
thereby into his own hands ; and the pro-
ceedings which took place in consequence
drew a second letter from Erskine, which
follows.
“ I being in Perth this Wensday, having
there an Assembly of the Kirk of Stor-
mont and Gourie, being under my care, I
received a writing from your Grace, touch-
ing the convention to be in Leith of the
Superintendants, the 16 of this Instant,
specifying also an inhibition, that nothing
should be answered to the collectors of the
Kirk. It is the first inhibition given to
that effect, and I wish of God it had not
begun in your Graces hands. The poor
ministers are not convict of any crimes nor
offence, and yet their living is commanded
to be holden from them. I perceive the
Kirk to be so far despised, that no wrong
can be done to it. It may appear most
justly to all men, that the destruction of
the kirk and ministry is sought ; for bene-
‘yfices are given and Bishops are made at
‘ men’s pleasure, without consent of the
Kirk, and the poor thing already appointed
by a law to sustean the ministry, is inhi-
bited to be answered. If this hath pro-
ceeded for obteaning the pension assigned
to the first most Godly Regent; that might
have been handled otherwise more reason-

’-‘~‘ Wodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, Vol. I.
pp. 36—41.






212
SCOTS VVORTHIES.





%;
ably: for I know the mind of the Kirk
willing to have satisfyed your Grace
therein, and that might have been obtean-
ed with a good writing. But it seemeth
to me, that men intend to bring the Kirk
under slavery and vile subjection ; but the
Great Lord will be enimie to their pur-
poses, and bring destruction upon the
heads of such who so intend, of whatso-
ever estate they be, and will preserve his
Kirk in liberty. Perceiving such proceed-
ing, I see no cause wherefor any who hear
office should come to Leith, for their coun~
sel will not be received, neither will they
be suffered to reason freely, as experience
hath taught in times past; and the counsell
of the enemies of God and his Kirk is
followed, yet despised Israel is comforted
in the Lord, he careth for his people and
will deliver them from the oppression of
Tyrants, and give them honour and liberty,
when their enimies shall suffer confusion
and shame. If your Grace consider the
matter well, ye will call back the letters of
inhibition; if not, the Kirk will have pa-
tience, and look for help at the hands of
the Lord. The Kirk should have her own,
and not beg at men. I have staid the
Superintendant of Fyfe, while my coming
to Saint Andrews, till we know further of
your Grace’s mind by this bearer, if it be
your pleasure. Perth, 14 Novembrisf’f
In reply to these two letters, the regent
sent the following :—
“ Right trustie cusine, After most hearty
commendations, in place of your self, whom
we have long looked for, we have received
this day two letters of yours, one from
Montrose the 10, and another from Perth
the 14, of this moneth; conteaning other
effect and matter than our expectation
was. In consideration of our good mean-
ing to have travelled by all possible means
* VVodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, vol. 1., pp.
43, 44.


for quieting of such things as wer in con-
traversy, that the ministers of the Kirk
might have found some case and repose,
and we be relieved of a fashions burden
that we have, in default of a certain forme
accorded unto the disposition of benefices
greater or smaller: our said meaning we
perceive is otherwise taken, which we
understand to proceed from other privat
fountains than your own good nature; and
so we will not press meikle to contend
with you in write by reason of this matter,
as the weight and gravity therof requireth.
\Ve have been very desirous indeed to
speak to yourself, especially since we wer
burthened with charge of regiment, and
your own presence peradventure might
have supplyed some things that your
letters find fault with. But seeing matters
taken as they are, that all occasion of
grudge may be removed for anything done
by us, we send you herewith an inhibition
of the charge lately given. For as we
have lived heretofore (praised be God)
honourably on our own, so shall we forbear
to crave the collectors, while this matter
be better considered of. And yet when
indifferent men shall look on the words of
the inhibition, the intention wherfor it is
given, and for how short a space it should
have lasted ; we trust that they shall think
that it ought not to be tane in such part as
we see it is taken. If collectors be subjects
to the king (of others we will spare to
speak at this time,) they might compear
when they are charged, and not write in
contempt, let as many charges pass as they
please, they will obey none, and this we
mean of such as be most ernest. What
the other Regents had intended to be
taken up, that we shall be frustrat of,
which yet was not the greatest occasion
why we desired some of the Superintend-
ants to be here at this time; but thir
matters touched in our leter sent you.
Which albeit we sent you for privat infor-


JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN.
213


f
__,-—-~
mation, yet being scansed, we see rather
extremity meaned, to stop the helping of
the matter, nor otherwise any mention of
quieting or ordering things amiss, as truely
our meaning it was, and is still, to procure
the reforming of things disordered in all
sorts, as far as maybe, reteaning the privi-
ledge of the King, Crown and Patronage. 4
The default of the whole stands in this,
that the policy of the Kirk of Scotland is
not perfect, or any solid conference among
godly men, that are well willed, and of:
judgment, how the same may be helped.
And for corruption which daily encreaseth,
whensoever the circumstances of things
shall be well considered by the good min-
isters, who are neither bussy, nor over
desirous of promotions to them and their’s,
it will be found that some have been
authors and procurers of things that no
good policy in the Kirk can allow.
Wheranent we thought to have conferred
especially with yourself, and to have
yeilded to you in things reasonable, and
craved satisfaction of other things alike
reasonable at your hands, and by your pro-
curement. If ye see no cause that any
who heareth office in the Kirk of God
shall come to Leith, I must take patience
and deferr the matter to the convention of
the estates of the realme, by whom I was
burdened with this office, and will make
them and all the Godly in Christendom
judges betwixt them bearing office in the
Kirk (ye write of,) and me, whether I have
not sought their satisfaction, or if they
have not neglected the means and occa-
sions that wer most apparent to bring
quietness to the poor ministers of the
Kirk. And in the meantime, I will
answer no further to the several points of
your letters, but keep the same to my self,
while time and better advice work effects.
bearing ofice in the Kirk, then are they to
be otherwise considered, as time and place
serveth. And so for this time suffering
and ceasing to make longer letter, committs
you to the protection of Almighty God.
At Leith, this 15 of November, 1571.
Your assured good Freind,
JOHN REGENT?”
The assembly which met in 1576, ap-
pointed commissioners for compiling the
“Second Book of Discipline,” among whom
was the laird of Dun. Each commissioner
had a particular point of church-govern-
ment allotted to him; and in the assembly
, which met in the following year, Erskine
complained that there was an obscurity
about that which had fallen to him,-—when
he was advised to confer with the other
commissioners, who would assist in remov-
ing his doubts. In 1579, the “ Second
Book of Discipline” was presented to the
assembly, and was approved of, as complete;
and such was the labour bestowed upon it,
and the sound views held by the compilers,
that to this day it is considered to contain
a scriptural model and true representation,
of what ought to be the government of a
presbyterian church.
The laird of Dun, though new advanced
in years, was still able to attend to, and
i took a share in the business of the assem-
blies of 1586 and 1587. With the king’s
l consent he was appointed to erect presby-
1teries in Angus and Mearns; and, along
, with others, to collect all the acts of
parliament in favour of the protestant
religion. He did not appear at the assem-
bly of 1588, and three years after, his
"infirmities increasing with his years, he
‘departed this life, at his house of Dun,
March 12th, 1591, in the 82d year of his
age ;—leaving a numerous posterity, and a

If ye of your self only have written, then ;
there is one way to be considered of, if he '
common consent of any number of them
‘ * \Vodrow’s Lives of the Reformers, Vol.1.
5 pp.44-46.


21.4
SCOTS WORTHIES.


,’_.~ -

name for virtue and honesty of principle,
especially in the great cause in which he
was engaged, not to be equalled in his day.
Of the five persons appointed to act as
superintendents, he was the last survivor,
and at his death that office ceased, as the
duties had fallen to be performed by
means of presbyteries or elderships, as
they were then called. When he was in
Edinburgh, in May, 1565, it is related
by Knox, that queen Mary expressed the
following opinion of his character: “ That
albeit she was not persuaded of the truth
of any religion, but the one in which she
had been brought up, yet she would be


content to hear public preaching, out of
the mouths of such as pleased her; and
that above all others, she would gladly
hear the superintendent of Angus, Sir
John Erskine, for he was a mild and sweet
natured man, and of true honesty and
uprightness.”
He has the honour of being among the
first who professed the reformation in the
north of Scotland, and had a great share
in promoting its success. He was possessed
of singular prudence, great generosity,
liberality, and considerable learning; he
was bold and zealous—but, above all, sin-
gularly pious and religious

ROBERT ROLLOCK.

"tOBERT ROLLOCK was born in the year'
1555, and was descended from the ancient
family of the Livingstons. Discovering a
talent for learning, his father, David Rol-
lock, sent him to Stirling to be educated
for the university under Thomas Buchanan,
nephew to the author of the “ History of
Scotland.” He remained under the care of
this teacher till he was prepared for enter-
ing the university, when he was sent to
the college of St Salvador, St Andrews.
By his genius, modesty, and sweetness of
disposition, young Rollock procured for
himself the particular friendship of his
master, which continued till his death.
He also procured in a short time the
particular and favourable notice of the

whole university; so that when he had
gone through the regular course of four
years’ study, which was the prescribed
period in all the Scottish colleges, and
taken out his degree, he was elected pro-
fessor of philosophy, being then only in
the twenty-third year of his age. Here he
discharged the duties of his office for four
years, with singular diligence and success.
At this period, and long after, it was the
practice, in the Scottish universities, for the
same professor to conduct the studies of
the same set of students through the whole
course; and, the remarkable progress of
his pupils, induced the magistrates of Edin-
burgh to fix upon Mr Rollock, as a fit
person to open their university, which had



ROBERT‘ROLLOCK.
215


been founded by James VI., the previous
year. This invitation Mr Rollock accepted,
and entered, in the beginning of winter,
1583, with energy upon his laborious office.
He was the only teacher, comprising in
his own person the character of principal
and professors to the infant establishment.
His reputation as a teacher soon drew a
number of students to that college. Hav-
ing no assistant, Mr Rollock joined all his
students at first into one class, but after-
wards he found a division necessary; form-
ing those who had received little or no
previous training, into one class, and those
who were somewhat advanced, into another.
At the recommendation of Mr Rollock,
the patrons of the college elected a young
man of the name of Duncan Nairn, a
second master of the college, who under-
took the charge of this first class in the
month of November, 1583. Mr Nairn
taught his class Latin the first year, Greek
the second; there being properly no hu-
manity professor in the university till a
number of years afterwards. Mr Rollock
was also created principal, though he still
continued to teach his class. Duncan
Nairn died the following year; and the
council having resolved to have three
classes taught, Messrs Adam Colt and
Alexander Scrimger were elected in his
place.
Mr Rollock continued to teach his class
till the first laureation, which was public,
and attended by all the nobility in town.
The number graduated was forty-eight, ‘
who of course signed the national cove-
nant;
in the year 1586. As soon as this cere-
mony was concluded, Mr Rollock resigned
the special care of his class, but retained
the principalship, to which was now an-
nexed the professorship of theology; for
which, and preaching regularly on the,
Sabbath, he was allowed four hundred

for it had been introduced into;
the college, and tendered to every student l
merks yearly. He prayed in public with
the students every morning; and on one
day of the week explained to them some
passage of Scripture, which exercise he
concluded with most pertinent and prac—
tical exhortations. He was particularly
careful of the more advanced students, that
they might enter upon the ministry pre-
pared for its duties, and under a deep
feeling of its sacred responsibilities. He
was also a diligent and acceptable minister
of the gospel.
About this time he wrote several com-
mentaries on different passages of Scripture.
His exposition of the Epistles to the
Romans and Ephesians coming into the
hands of the learned Beza, he wrote to
one of his friends, telling him, that he had
an incomparable treasure, which, for its
judiciousness, brevity, and elegance of
style, had few equals.
With literary ardour and piety almost
boundless, Mr Rollock’s simplicity of
character disqualified him from acting
either a consistent, or a profitable part in
conducting the public affairs of the church,
which at this period were of paramount
importance. involving at once the civil and
religious rights of the community. In the
language of Calderwood, “ he was a godly
man, but simple in the matters of the
church-government; credulous, easily led
by counsel, and tutored in a manner by his
old master, Thomas Buchanan, who was
now gained to the king’s cause.” This
easy disposition was at once seen and
appreciated by king James, who had now
matured his plans for reducing the church
to an entire dependence upon himself, and
was sedulously employed in carrying them
into effect. He was chosen moderator to
the Assembly held at Dundee, in 1597, in
which were passed several acts strongly
l tending to support the whole superstructure
of episcopacy. He was also one of those
commissioned by the assembly to wait on



216
SCOTS WORTHI ES.



*fi,
. . . a
his majesty about seating the churches of
Edinburgh.if
Soon after this, Mr Rollock was seized
with an illness which confined him to his
house, and finally terminated his existence.
His works are a commentary on some
select Psalms ; on the Prophecy of Daniel;
and the Gospel of John with its Harmony.
He wrote also on the Epistles to the
Ephesians, Colossians, Thessalonians, and
Galatians; and an analysis of the Epistles
to the Romans and Hebrews, with respect
to effectual calling.
f So long as popery was the dominant religion,
all the churches were without seats. It is certain,
that previous to 1586, neither pews nor forms were
used. In that year, the pulpit stones in the churches
of Glasgow were ordered to be removed, and laid
in ranks for the women to sit upon ; and two years
later, some ash trees in the High Churchyard were
ordered to be cut down “to make forms for the
folk to sit on in the Kirk.” In 1589, the session
farther ordained, “ that no woman should sit upon
or occupy the forms men should sit on, but either
sit laigh, or else bring stools wi’ them.” (Hence
the reason why Jenny Geddes was so readily fur-
nished with the stool which she hurled at the






. "21121;, ' -\.=:-\ l w
, ,7’ \Q (a ,\\\_‘,,\ \
r/ I \~ ‘1
7/ r ‘ . \
\f ////L ~. _~



[J enny Gcddes’ StooL]
bishop’s head in the church of Edinburgh, who
first “dared to read prayers at her lu_q.”) In con-
sequence of the vast concourse of people that then
began to crowd the churches, from the compulsory
edicts of the clergy, it was found necessary soon
after to erect galleries. The earliest account of
them upon record is in 1591.

TESTIMONY
OF
ROBERT ROLLOCK.
Perceiving that his end was approaching,
he, with his wonted prudence, settled his
domestic concerns, and solemnly commend-
ed his wife, at that time pregnant of her
first and only child, to the care of his
friends. Two of these friends (Patrick
Galloway and David Lindsay), who had
always stood high in his regard, having
come to him, he called them to witness
that he professed himself to be a dying
man, and as such, he implored them to go
in his name to the king, and to exhort him
to prosecute the path of religion’ in the
same inoffensive course he had hitherto
followed; proceed in it with an unfaltering
step till the last hour of his life, and not
allow himself to be drawn from it, either
by the hope of enlarging his authority, or
by the evil advices of wicked men. With
respect to the pastors of the church, for
which he felt an equal degree of reverence.
he thus spoke: “ The ministry of Christ,
though in human calculation a mean and
humble office, was yet glorious in the sight
of God; and though ministers are earthen
vessels, the refuse and offscourings of the
earth, they will hereafter shine in glorious
splendour.”
Afterwards, the ministers of Edinburgh
having waited upon him, he discoursed to
them as follows: “ \Vearied out with a
weight of sickness, and longing for rest
and the end of my life, I continue to
breathe and hope; yet I have not so
learned nor preached Christ, but in him tc
feel support under all my distresses. The
. care of the college, brethren, has always
stood highest in my thoughts: God is my
witness with what faithfulness and diligence


,______x___,o_,__s i
ROBERT ROLLOCK.
217


he enabled me to look after its administra-
tion, and I am sensible to myself, you are
not ignorant of the advantages that re-
dound to the church and the common-
wealth from the right management of that
society. The thread of my life is now
breaking; I am fast hastening to my home,
my country, my F ather’s house, long and
much desired by me. I beg of you when
I am taken away, let not the college mourn
too bitterly and long, in widowhood. You,
I hope, even you, my brethren, will not be
stepmothers to her, but affectionate and
kind parents, and nourish and cherish her
in your bosom. The Work of the ministry
has also lain heavily on my spirit, and you
are not ignorant of my motives in entering
upon it. I dare not say I have ever done
any thing worthy of that high office, but I
dare say it was in my heart so to do. You
will remember that I was chosen by the
assembly at Dundee to watch for the
interest of this church. In this, I had the
glory of God and the safety of the church,
miserably tossed with tempests and shaking,
before mine eyes; and I can now declare,
that my conscience does not smite me with
any wicked departure from duty, in doubling
the number of the ministers of Edinburgh,
and particularly in my activity to bring in
two (Messrs Howat and Robertson) who
studied under me, when I thought I saw
gifts in them suitable to such a trust, and
hoped God would bless their labours. I
am so far from repentin g any share I had
in it, that to this hour it is satisfying to
me. It was lately told me that a rumour
is propagated, as if I were vexed in mind
for the hand I had in this. But I can
appeal to God, the witness and judge of
secrets, before whose tribunal I am shortly
to stand, that in all that matter, I bad
right and straight ends before me, accord-
ing to the grace and prudence God has
vouchsafed to me : and there is nothing
that vexes and troubles me now. I am

persuaded the wise Maker of the world has
tied the church and state together, with a
brotherly and adamantine chain, and it
hath been my great care to advance the
good of both; so that the temporal sword
should not be perniciously drawn against
the church, nor the church incited against
the king and state, and that an inevitable
war might be prevented. And yet the
love of peace hath not so far bewitched
me, that I could not distinguish between
genuine and adulterous peace, neither hath
my affection to my sovereign carried me
that length as that, to please him, I would
submit to the least stain on my conscience.
I hope the integrity and candour of my
practice shall appear when I am dead. In
a word, brethren, join together with the
most intimate love and concord in the
work of the Lord. What can be more
unnatural than that the ambassadors of
peace should be rending one another with
strife and discord? especially at a season
when our enemies are busy, and our forces
ought not to be scattered by strife, but by
all means united, that so we may thrust
not at one another, but only at our enemies’
hearts. Let me put you in mind to pay
the most obsequious obedience to the king.
You live in happy times, and enjoy a
singular felicity. You are blessed with a
prince who drunk in religion with his
milk, who hath guarded your doctrine
with a right discipline, and covers both
the doctrine and discipline of religion with
his protection ; who hath taken the church
so much into his care, as by open and
plain unanswerable documents to make it
evident, that he will never desert her
while he breathes.
may easily and pleasantly enjoy, it will be
folly to seek after by harsh methods. You
will then take particular care that the
church he not ruined by a fall fi~om such
Paul might have retained
Onesimus with him, but without Philemon
Therefore, what you
high happiness.



2 E
218
SCOTS WORTHIES.





he would do nothing, that his benefit should
not be as of constraint, but willingly.
It is my opinion, we should follow the
apostle’s pattern in matters of far greater
weight. The God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, enrich you with all
spiritual blessings, and furnish you with all
might and strength for the faithful dis—
charge of your office.”
Towards the evening of the same day,
he appeared to feel that death was fast
approaching, and fell out into a most
rapturous discourse, which edified all that
heard him. The physicians having at-
tempted by some prescriptions to alleviate
his trouble, he turned himself and said,
“ Thou, O Lord. wilt be my Physician.”
He then prayed most fervently for the
pardon of sins, through the Redeemer’s
merits, declaring that he counted all things
dress and dung, be they ever so great, for
the excellency of the cross of Christ. He
then beseeched God that he would give
him a comfortable and happy end to this
life, that being covered under the wings of
mercy, he might sleep in Christ, and enjoy
the face of God, which he most violently
longed to see. “ I have seen thee,” added
he, “in the faint glass of the word, as
through a glass darkly; allow me that
long and much wished for enjoyment, of
the light of thy countenance for eternity.”
He then discoursed of the resurrection
and eternal life, as if he were already in
heaven; and taking all present by the
hand, like the patriarchs of old, he blessed
them, adding exhortations suited to the
temper and office of each individual.
Next day, the magistrates and coun~
sellers of the city having waited on him,
he addressed them as follows: “ As far as
I can ‘conjecture, I am going over the
threshold of time, and entering into my
native country, and my F ather’s house.
This is not uneasy to me: I have frequently
longed for the end of this life. I have
! labours.

, through all the stages of life.
still been most anxious about the college;
and now when I am about to leave it,
were I silent in giving my opinion about
my successor to be set over it, I could
scarcely be free from the stain of negli-
gence. It would be of little use, in my
judgment, to go abroad and bring in a
stranger to preside in that society, who
would know little of the doctrine and dis-
cipline of this college. You have at home
a person richly fitted with gifts and quali-
fications for this station—Mr Henry Char-
ters—who, while a scholar of mine, made
vast advances in learning, and hath now
for ten years filled the place of a professor
of philosophy, with the greatest reputation.
Place him in the principal’s place, set him
at the helm of the college, and you will
see God favouring him, and blessing his
By your office, you are patrons
and cherishers of the college; permit me
to wish you may be sincerely careful of it.”
When he had ended what he had said
to the magistrates and masters, he spoke
as follows, with reference to his spiritual
state : “ I thank my God that my memory,
sight, hearing, and the rest of my senses,
are as perfect as ever; but my heart is
loosed from this world. Lord Jesus, when
wilt then come and take full possession of
my heart? Thou hast the sole claim upon
it. It was my main study through my
1 life to dedicate and consecrate it to thee.
O, come and take it, that I may for ever
be thine I” When he had said this, he fell
into a soft rest for a little; but on awaken-
ing, he thus resumed: “ Come, Lord Jesus,”
said he, “break the thread of this misera-
ble life ! Haste, Lord, and make no
tarrying; thou hast redeemed me not to
enjoy this frail life, but life eternal. Come,
Lord Jesus, grant that life to which thou
hast redeemed me.”
When some about him regretted their
loss in his removal, he said, “ I have gone
I an; come


ROBERT ROLLOCK.
219



to the last step of my race why do you
hinder me ? Lord Jesus, with thy help, I
will comfortably step this last step. Take
me to that glory which I have seen only
as through a glass. O, to be for ever with
thee !” And when it was told him that
the day following was the Sabbath, he
exclaimed, “ Lord, may my everlasting
Sabbath have its happy beginning from
thy Sabbath !”
From this time, he got tolerable rest
till the middle of the night, when his
trouble having increased, he began to
expect his last struggle. Having desired
Mr Balcanquall to be sent for, he addressed
him thus: “ Sir, because you are the oldest
minister in Edinburgh, and my friendship
with you is not of late, Ihave sent for you,
that I may show the reverence with which,
from my youth, I have venerated Christ’s
ministers. I have, according to the mea-
sure God hath bestowed on me, been pour-
ing out my prayer before the Lord—pray
you now for me, and with me: I’ll join
with you in heart and affection, only let
me beg you’ll not ask the lengthening out
of my life.” When all present had kneeled,
Mr Balcanquall prayed; and having, among
other things, entreated that the Lord would
yet allow the enjoyment of such a valuable
person, whom the church and common-
wealth so much needed, Mr Rollock said,
“I am fully weary of this life, and only
desire the heavenly life which is hid in
Christ with God.”
When prayer was ended, he broke out
in raptures, commending the preached
gospel. “ The preached word,” said he,
“ is life—without it none can be saved.
Believe me, it is not a light matter tov
preach the word. It is quite another
matter than to explain the text of Plato or
Aristotle, or to make an oration with the
paint and softness of words. The preach-
ing of the word takes in sanctity, humility,
and the demonstration of the Spirit.”

And turning again unto prayer, he said,
“ Come, Lord Jesus, break the nerves of
my eyes—grant me new eyes! I long to
be dissolved, and to be with thee. Hasten
to come, Lord Jesus, do not delay—Poor
life, remove! that the better, infinitely
better life of God may enter in. Lay
hands, Lord Jesus, on this body, arrest it,
and take to thyself this soul I”
After this, he lay silent till about day-
break, on Sabbath morning, when he broke
out in these words: “ Come, Lord, and do
not tarry: I am weary with my trouble,
day and night. Come, Lord Jesus, that
I may come to thee. O how sweet would
the end of this life be to me! My sweet
Lord, come, divorce my soul from this
body, that I may-enjoy thee, my husband.
Separate this soul of mine from all things,
that it may fly to thee, its head and
centre!” Here one of the bystanders
said, “ Do not weary, your Lord will
come :” to whom he replied, “ Most wel-
come to me is that news.
to-morrow may be my funeral day.” Then
another having observed, “ Happy is the
soul which is so near to God as yours is ;”
he said, “ In myself there is nothing which
I do not regard as dung, that I may win
Christ. Christ is my only source of com-
fort: all my own righteousness is as filthy
rags.” Being asked whether he desired
the presence of any minister, he replied,
that he wished not to trouble them whilst
preparing for public service. “ Allow me,”
said he, “like a parrot, to keep speaking
with my Lord 1” Being informed that the
public service had commenced, he said,
“ Give me, O Lord, to see and feel the
things which others are at this moment
hearing.” About mid-day, a certain person
thus spoke to him: “ Throughout your
whole life, with unwearied diligence and
constant labour you have promoted the
glory of God :” to which he replied, “ My
sole ground of glorying is the mercy of

I wish that .

220
SCOTS WORTHIES.




God. through Jesus Christ: all other
things I regard as loss.” After this he
fell into a soft sleep, which lasted till the
evening; upon awaking from which, he
was visited by the lord provost of Edin-
burgh, and thus addressed him: “I have
already seriously commended to the care
of the magistrates, of which you, my lord,
are the chief, the interests of the college:
do you also take it under your protection;
let it experience in you a parent and a
benefactor. Seeing by the high station in
which you preside over the city, and the
august office with which God has invested
you, you are able to give support to the
church, do not, I beseech you, withdraw
such support: on the contrar , do you
exert your power and influence towards its
protection; apply yourself to it with the
utmost vigour, that so you may attain
salvation through Jesus Christ. All
worldly things are perishable, and will
soon perish; but God will enrich you,
your wife, and your family, out of the
treasure of his goodness.” During the
same night he let fall such expressions as
these : “ In a diseased body I have a tran-
quil mind: I am not troubled with the
fear of death, of sin, or of Satan, for over
me these have no power: but yet I am so
borne down with a weight of sickness, that
I am preserved to this hour, far beyond
hope. The Lord is as it were breaking
me in his mortar, with the pestle of afflic-
tion, that he may make me anew for his
own kingdom.”
On the Monday following, he thus spoke:
“ It is wonderful,” said he, “ that afflicted
as I am with such acute pain, my life
should be so long protracted; but yet I
shall wait in patience the good pleasure of
the Lord: I shall bear with it, I shall bear
with it—let him do with me as seems good
to him; I shall not contend with him.
What is man, that he should contend with
God?
,__
Nay, even should he thrust

into hell, he ought to be obeyed, and not
opposed! Be gracious to me, O Lord, for
the sake of Jesus Christ. I blush not to
confess, that never as during this affliction,
have I arrived at such a height of divine
knowledge! O how dreadful to fall into
the hands of Jehovah ! but, for me there is
mercy laid up in Christ. Why then art
thou disquieted, my soul ? Why art thou
cast down within me? In a very little
thou shalt have the light of his countenance,
and a sweet meeting 1”
Again, on the morning of the following
day: “ Now,” said he, reciting some of its
words, “ now do I experience the truth of
the 6th Psalm—‘ Be gracious to me, O
Lord, for I am oppressed with pain. Save
me, O Lord, for my bones are sore vexed.’ ”
Then, after a short pause, “ Christ shall
bear my yoke, and I, upheld by his grace,
shall follow in his footsteps.” When the
bystanders, perceiving him convulsed with
the violence of the pain, began to weep and
mourn, he thus chided them : ‘“ Weep not
on my account, but weep for your sins;
since no one is free from sin, no one is
without good cause for tears. With regard
to myself, I shall ere long behold the end
and conclusion of all these things.” T o-
wards evening, one of his relatives having
come to him, excited his displeasure by this
impious request; that, when received into
heaven, he would mediate in behalf of him
and his other friends. Immediately on
hearing it, as if boiling with indignation,
he suddenly raised up his emaciated and
almost lifeless body, and said, “I disclaim
that office; Christ is the alone Mediator.”
Not long after this, he was visited by his
elder brother, whom he thus addressed:
“Do you,” said he, “carry a reproof to
our kinsmanz—admonish him to adopt a
different line of conduct, otherwise there
can be no safety for him; but on the con-
trary, inevitable destruction.” From this
time forward he refused all sustenance,



JOHN CRAIG.
221



saying, “I shall no more eat or drink,
until I am translated to the kingdom of
heaven.” He intrusted the care of his
funeral to two intimate and long tried
friends. “ Why,” said he, “should I not
have a concern for my body, since it is
yet to be glorified and made like unto
Christ’s own glorious body ?” and looking
to his hands, “ These very hands,” he ex-
claimed, “shall then shine with effulgent
glory!” After this, his speech became
gradually more constrained and difficult.
His short sentences, yet impressive and
powerful—breathing and savouring of hea-
venly joy—by degrees gave place to a
_ gentle slumber, in which, having continued
for a while, he placidly and quietly com-
mended his spirit to his Creator and Re—
deemer. His death took place on the 8th
of February, 1598.


JOHN
CRAIG
JOHN CRAIG was born about the year
1512, and had the misfortune to lose his
father next year at the battle of Flod-
den. Notwithstanding this misfortune, he
obtained a good education, and removing
to England, became tutor to the children
of lord Dacre. In consequence of war
arising between England and Scotland, he
returned to his native country, and became
a monk of the Dominican order. Having
afforded some reason for a suspicion of
heresy, he was cast into prison, but being
acquitted, he returned to England, and
endeavoured, by the influence of lord
Dacre, to procure a place at Cambridge, in
which, however, he was disappointed. He
then travelled to France, and thence to
Rome, where he was in such favour with
cardinal f’ole, that he obtained a place
among the Dominicans of Bologna, and
was appointed to instruct the novices of
the cloister. Being advanced to tie recto-
rate, he had access to the library, where,
happening to read Calvin’s “Institutes,”
he became tainted with the protestant
heresy.
Craig did not conceal his new views;
he was laid hold of, sent to Rome, thrown
into prison, tried, and condemned to be
burnt; from which fate he was only saved
by an accident. Pope Paul IV. having
died the day before his intended execution,
the people rose tumultuously, dragged the
statue of his late holiness through the
streets, and, breaking open all the prisons,
set the prisoners at liberty. Craig imme-
diately left the city ; and, as he was walk-
iing through the suburbs, he met a com-
lpany of banditti,—one of whom, taking
him aside, asked him if he had ever been in
I Bologna? On his answering in the affirm-
,l ative, the man inquired if he recollected,
ias he was one day walking there in the
fields with some young noblemen, having




222
SCOTS WORTHIES.





administered relief to a poor maimed
soldier, who asked him for alms? Craig
replied that he had no recollection of such
an event; the bandit told him, however,
that he could never forget the kindness
he had received on that occasion, which
he would now beg to repay by administer-
ing to the present necessities of his bene-
factor. In short, this man gave Craig a
sufficient sum to carry him to Bologna.
Craig was afraid lest some of his former
acquaintances might denounce him to the
inquisition; accordingly, he directed his
course to Milan, avoiding all the principal
roads, for fear of meeting any enemy. One
day, when both his money and strength
were exhausted by the journey, he came to
a desert place, where he threw himself
down upon the ground, and almost despair—
ed of life. At this moment a dog came
fawning up to him, with a bag of money in


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its mouth, which it laid down at his feet.
The despairing traveller instantly recog-
nised this as “a special token of God’s
favour ;” and, picking up fresh energy, pro-
ceeded on his way till he reached avillage,
where he obtained some refreshment. He
now turned to Vienna, when, professing
himself of the Dominican order, he was
brought to preach before the emperor,


Maximilian II., and soon became a favourite
at the court of that sovereign. His fame
reaching Rome, pope Pius III. sent a
letter to the emperor, desiring him to be
sent back as one that had been condemned
for heresy. The emperor generously gave
him a safe guidance out of Germany.
On reaching England, about the year
1560, Craig heard of the reformation
which had taken place in his native country,
and offered his services to the church. He
found, however, that having been for the
long period of twenty-four years absent
from the country, he was unfitted to preach
in his vernacular tongue, and was therefore
obliged for some time to make known the
truth to the learned in Latin. Having
partly recovered his native tongue, he was
appointed next year to be the colleague of
Knox, in the parish church of Edinburgh,
which office he held for nine years. In
1567, the earl of Bothwell obtained a
divorce from his lawful wife, preparatory
to his marriage with queen Mary. The
queen sent a letter to. Mr Craig, com-
manding him to publish the banns of
matrimony betwixt her and Bothwell ; but
on Sabbath, having declared that he had
received such a command, he added, that
he could not in conscience obey it, the
He
was immediately sent for by Bothwell, to
whom he declared his reasons with great
boldness. He was reproved for this con-
duct at the time by the council; but two
years afterwards, it was declared by the
assembly that he had acted as a faithful
minister.
About the year 1572, he was sent by
the general assembly to preach at Mon-
trose, “ for the illuminating the north ; and
when he had remained two years there, he
was sent to Aberdeen, to illuminate those
dark places in Mar, Buchan, and Aberdeen,
and to teach the youth in the college
there.”
marriage being altogether unlawful.



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JOHN CRAIG.
223



In 1579, Mr Craig being appointed
minister to the king (James V I.), returned
to Edinburgh, and occupied a prominent
place in the general assemblies. of the
church. He was compiler of part of the
Second Book of Discipline, and the writer
of the national covenant, signed in 1580
by the king and his household, which
was destined in a future age to exercise so
mighty an influence over the destinies of
the country. In 1584, when an act of
parliament was made, that all ministers,
masters of colleges, 820., should, within
forty-eight hours, compear and subscribe
the act of parliament concerning the king’s
power over all estates, spiritual and tem-
poral, and submit themselves to the bishops;
Mr Craig and some others having opposed
this act, were called before the council, and
asked, “ How they could be so bold as to
controvert the late act of parliament.” Mr
Craig replied, they would find fault with
anything repugnant to God’s word. At
which answer the earl of Arran started to
his feet, and said they were too pert; that
he would shave their heads, pare their nails,
and cut their toes, and make them an
example unto all who should disobey the
king’s command, and his council’s orders ;
and forthwith charged them to appear
before the king at Falkland, on the 4th of
September following.
Upon their appearance at Falkland, they
were again accused of transgressing the
foresaid act of Parliament, and disobeying
the bishop’s injunctions, when there arose
a hot discussion between Mr Craig and
the bishop of St Andrews. The earl of
Arran interfered, and spoke most out-
rageously against Mr Craig, who coolly
replied “that there had been as great men
set up higher, who had been brought low.”
Arran rejoined, “ I shall make thee of a
false liar, a true prophet,” and, stooping
down on his knee he said, “now I am
humbled.” “ Nay,” said Mr Craig, “ mock
I
the servants as thou wilt, God will not be
mocked, but shall make thee find it in
earnest, when thou shalt be cast down
from the high horse of thy pride, and
humbled.” This came to pass a few years
afterwards, when he was thrown off his
horse by a spear by James Douglas of
Parkhead, killed, and his corpse exposed
to dogs and swine before it was buried.if
Mr Craig was forthwith discharged
from preaching any more in Edinburgh,
and the bishop of St Andrews was
appointed to preach in his place; but as
soon as he entered the great church of
Edinburgh, the whole congregation, except
a few court parasites, retired. It was not
long till Mr Craig was restored to his
place and office.
On the 27th of December, 1591, when
the earl of Bothwell and his accomplices
came to the king and chancellor’s chamber-
doors with fire, and to the queen’s with a
hammer, in the palace of Holyroodhouse,
with a design to seize the king and the
chancellor, Mr Craig, upon the 29th,
preaching before the king, upon the two
brazen mountains in Zechariah, said, “ as
the king had lightly regarded the many
bloody shirts presented to him by his sub-
jects craving justice, so God in his provi-
dence had made a noise of crying, and fore-
hammers, to come to his own doors.” The
king would have the people to stay after
sermon, that he might purge himself; and
said, “ if he had thought his hired servant
(meaning Mr Craig, who was his minister,)
would have dealt in that manner with
him, he should not have dealt with him
so long in his house.” Mr Craig, by
reason of the crowd, not hearing what he
said, went away.
John Craig was a very different man from the
royal chaplains of after times. He boldly opposed
the proceedings of the court when he thought
them opposed to the interests of religion ; and on
some occasions uttered the most pointed and severe
truths respecting the king, even in his presence.



224
SCOTS WORTHIES.



In 1595, Mr Craig being quite worn l December, 1600, aged eighty—eight. his
out by his labours, and the infirmities of
age, the king’s commissioner presented
some articles to the general assembly;
wherein, amongst other things, he craved,
that, seeing Mr Craig was awaiting the hour
God should please to call him, and was un-
able to serve any longer, and his majesty
designing to place John Duncanson, Mr
Craig’s colleague, with the prince, there-
fore, his highness desired an ordinance to
be made, granting any two ministers he
should choose. This was accordingly
done, and Craig died on the 4th of
DAVID
life having extended through the reigns of
four sovereigns.
Mr Craig will appear, from these short
memoirs, to have been a man of uncommon
resolution and activity. He was employed
in most part of the affairs of the church,
during the reign of queen Mary, and in
the beginning of that of her son. He
compiled the National Covenant, and a
catechism, commonly called Craig’s Cate-
chism, which was first printed by order of
the assembly, in 1591.

BLACK
HITHERTO the Scottish reformers had I of his duty, applying his doctrines closely
more especially to direct their warfare
against the encroachments that had been
made by the papists upon Christ’s pro-
phetical and sacerdotal offices; but, from
1570 downward, they were more particu-
larly called upon to vindicate and defend
his regal prerogative, as king and head of
the church. Among the earliest of those
who stood forward in defence of their
Lord and Master, was David Black, to
whom a conspicuous part is most pre-
eminently due. Little, indeed, is known of
his early history ; but this is the less to be _
regretted, as it is with his public life that
we are more immediately concerned.
Mr Black was for some time colleague
to the celebrated Andrew Melville, as a
minister of St Andrews. He was remark-
able for zeal and fidelity in the discharge

to the corruptions of the age, whether pre-
vailing amongst the highest or lowest of
the people. In consequence of which, he
was, in 1596, cited before the council for
some expressions uttered in a sermon,
alleged to strike against the king and
council. But his brethren in the minis-
try, thinking that by this method of pro-
cedure with him, the spiritual government
of the house of God was intended to be
subverted, resolved that he should decline
answering the king and council, and
that in the mean time, they should be pre-
paring themselves to prove from the holy
Scriptures, that the judgment of all doc—
trine, in the first instance, belonged to the
church.
Accordingly, Mr Black, on the 18th
November 1596, gave in a declinature to


DAVID
BLACK. 225



the council, to this effect: That he was
able to defend all that he had said: yet
seeing his answering before them to that
accusation might be prejudicial to the
liberties of the church, and would be taken
as an acknowledgment of his Majesty’s
jurisdiction in matters merely spiritual, he
was constrained to decline that judicator ',
1. Because the Lord Jesus Christ had
given him his word for a rule, and that
therefore he could not fall under the civil
law, but in so far as, after trial, he should
be found to have passed from his instruc-
tions, which trial belonged only to the
prophets, i. e. the ministers of the church.
2. That the liberties of the church, and
discipline presently exercised, were con-
firmed by divers acts of parliament, and
approved of by the Confession of Faith;
that the office-bearers of the church were
now in the peaceable possession thereof;
and that the question of his preaching
ought first, according to the grounds and
practices aforesaid, to be judged by the
ecclesiastical senate, as the competent
judges thereof in the first instance. This
declinature, with a letter sent by the dif-
ferent presbyteries, was in a short time
subscribed by between three and four
hundred ministers, all assenting to and
approving of it.
The commissioners of the general
assembly then sitting at Edinburgh,
knowing that the king was displeased
at this proceeding, sent some of their
number to speak with his majesty;
to whom he replied, that if Mr Black
would pass fi'om his declinature, he would
pass from the summons; but this they
would not consent to do. Upon which
the king caused summon Mr Black again,
on the 27th of November, to a council
to be held on the 30th. This summons
was given with sound of trumpet, and
open proclamation, at the cross of Edin~
burgh; and the same day, the commission-
ers of the assembly were ordered to depart
thence in twenty-four hours, under pain of
rebellion.
Before the day of Mr Black’s second
appearance at the council, he prepared a
still more explicit declinature, especially as
it respected the king’s supremacy, declar-
ing, “that there are two jurisdictions in
the realm, the one spiritual, and the other
civil; the one respecting the conscience,
and the other concerning external things ;
the one persuading by the spiritual sword,
the other compelling by the temporal
sword; the one spiritually procuring the
edification of the church, the other by jus-
tice procuring the peace and quiet of the
commonwealth, which, being grounded in
the light of nature, proceeds from God 21;»
he is Creator, and is so termed by an apos-
tle,* but varying according to the constitu-
tion of men; the other
grounded upon the grace of redemption,
proceeding immediately from the gospel of
Christ, the only king and only head of his
church.t Therefore, in so far as he was
one of the spiritual office-bearers, and had
discharged his spiritual calling in some
above nature
measure of grace and sincerity, he should
not, and could not, lawfully be judged for
preaching and applying the word of God,
by any civil power, he being an ambassador
and messenger of the Lord Jesus, having
his commission from the King of kings,
and all his instructions being set down and
limited in the word of God, that cannot be
extended or abridged by any mortal king,
or emperor ; and seeing he was sent to all
sorts, his commission and discharge of it
should not, nor cannot, be lawfully judged
by them to whom he was sent, they being
sheep, not pastors, and to be judged by the
word of God, and not to be the judges
thereof, in a judicial way.”
A decree of council was passed against

l
l
1 Pet. ii. ‘ ‘ Eph. i. Col. ii.
'Jl'
226
SCOTS WORTHIES.


_,
___
him, upon which his brethren of the com-
mission directed their doctrine against the
council. The king sent a message to the
commissioners, signifying that he would
rest satisfied with Mr Black’s simple de-
claration of the truth; but Mr Bruce and
the rest replied, that if the affair concerned
Mr Black alone, they should be content;
but the liberty of Christ’s kingdom had
received such a wound by the proclamation
of last Saturday, that if Mr Black’s life,
and a dozen of others besides, had been
taken, it had not grieved the hearts of the
godly so much, and that either these things
behoved to be retracted, or they would
oppose so long as they had breath. But,
after a long process, no mitigation of the
council’s severity could be obtained; for
Mr Black was charged by a macer, to
enter his person in ward, on the north of
the Tay, there to remain on his own ex-
pense, during his majesty’s pleasure; and
though he was next year restored to his
place at St Andrews, yet he was not
suffered to continue ; for about the month
of July that same year, the king and
council again proceeded against him; and
he was removed to Angus, where he con-
tinued till the day of his death. He had
always been a severe check on the negli-
gent and unfaithful part of the clergy; but
now they had found means to get rid of
him. The situation from ' which he had
been ejected was conferred upon Mr
George Gladstanes, minister of Arbirlot,
in the county of Angus, to which charge
Black was soon after inducted.
After his removal to that place, he con-
tinued to exercise his ministry, preaching
daily to such as resorted to him, with
much success, and enjoying an intimate
communion with God till the day of his
death.
In his last sickness, the christian tem-

per of his mind was so much improved by
large measures of the Spirit, that his con-
versation had a remarkable effect in hum-
bling the hearts and comforting the souls
of those who attended him; engaging them
to take the easy yoke of Christ upon
them. He found in his own soul also, such
a sensible taste of heavenly joy, that he
was seized with a fervent desire to depart,
and to be with the Lord, longing to have
the earthly house of his tabernacle
dissolved, that he might be admitted into
the mansions of everlasting rest. In the
midst of these earnest breathings after
God, the Lord was wonderfully pleased to
condescend to the importunity of his ser~
vant, to let him know that the time of his
departure was near. Upon which he took
a solemn farewell of his family and flock,
in a discourse, as DI!‘ Melville says, that
seemed to be spoken out of heaven, con-
cerning the misery and grief of this life,
and the inconceivable glory which is
above.
The night following, aft-er supper, hav-
ing read and prayed in his family with un-
usual continuance and fervency, he went
to bed, and slept for some time. The
next day being set apart for the celebra-
tion of the Lord’s Supper, he went to
church, and having brought the com-
munion service near a close, he felt death
approaching; and all discovering a sudden
change in his countenance, some ran to
support him; but pressing to be on his
knees, with his hands and eyes lifted
up to heaven, in the very act of adora-
tion, as in a transport of joy, he was
taken away without showing any symptoms
of pain. Thus this holy man who had so
faithfully maintained the interest of Christ
upon earth, breathed forth his soul in this
happy manner, so that it seemed rather
like a translation than a real death.


JOHN DAVIDSON.
227


JOHN DAVIDSON.

Jon): Davmsos was a native of Dun-
fermline, and was born, probably, about
the year 1550, as he was enrolled a
student of St Leonard’s college, in the
university of St Andrews, in the year
1567, where he continued until 1570. He
was a man of great zeal and boldness in
favour of the reformed interests, and began
very early to discover uncommon piety and
faithfulness in the discharge of his duty.
When the regent Morton, in the year
1573, obtained an order in the privy coun-
cil authorizing the union of several parishes
into one, Davidson, then a regent in St
Leonard’s college, wrote a poem, exposing
Morton’s intention in the severest terms.
The poem was entitled “ Commendatioun
of Uprichtnes.” M‘Crie says, “ there was
nothing in the obnoxious book which could
give ground of offence or alarm to any
good government, being merely a temperate
discussion of a measure which was at least
controvertible. The evils which the act
of council was calculated to produce are
indeed exposed with faithfulness and spirit;
but without anything disrespectful to
authority, or tending in the slightest degree
to excite ‘ sedition and uproar.’ ” Ruther-
ford, however, principal of St Salvador’s
college, and a number of his colleagues in
the university, more desirous of keeping
favour with the court, than of appearing in
defence of the persecuted church, showed
themselves unfi~iend1y to Davidson; and
Rutherford, conceiving that disrespectful
I
allusions had been made to himself in the
poem, wrote a reply to it. The following
is the offensive passage :—-
“ Thair is some collages We ken,
Weill foundit to uphald learnit men :
Amang the rest foundit we se
The teiching of theologie.
Lat anis the counsell send and se
Gif thir places weill gydit be ;
And not abusit wi Waist rudis,
That dois nathing bot spendis yai gudis
That was maid for that haly use
And not to feid ane crusz't Guse.”*
This production having been printed and
circulated without Davidson’s knowledge,
he was summoned to a justice eyre at
Haddington, where sentence of imprison
ment was pronounced against him. He
was, however, soon liberated on bail, in
the hope that the leniency thus shown
would induce him to retract what he had
written, or at least that his brethren might
be prevailed upon to condemn it. But the
greater part of the general assembly,
although of the same sentiments with
Davidson, being afraid of the regent’s
resentment, declined to interfere in his
favour, and left him to the vengeance of
* “The Moderator enjoyned them silence, and
desired Mr John Rutherford yet again to produce
his book; but he yet still refused, and said ‘that
Mr John (Davidson) had called him crusea' goose
in his book, that he had little Latin in his book,
and that was false,’ with many other brawling
words—Mr Alexander Arbuthnot said, you take
that to you which no man speaks against you.”—
Cald. MS.


228
SCOTS WORTHIES.


the prosecutor. These expectations, then,
being disappointed, and Davidson, find-
ing the intercession even of some of the
principal gentlemen in the country un-
availing, and that nothing but a recan-
tation would save him from punishment,
fled to the west of Scotland, and thence
into England, where he remained until
the degradation of the regent, when he
returned home.
About the same time that he wrote the
other poem, he also composed one to the
memory of Robert Campbell of Kinzean-
cleugh, a gentleman strongly attached to
the reformed religion, and an unvarying
and disinterested friend to our intrepid
This worthy gentleman died
while industriously engaged in defending
reformer.
Davidson from the effects of persecution;
and his virtues are commemorated in a
poem by him, which, although rather defec-
tive in composition, nevertheless contains
many interesting notices relative to those
troublous times. Being rare, and not easily
attainable by most readers, it may not be
foreign to our purpose to give a brief
account of it in the author’s own words.
The following is the title :—“ A Memorial
of the life and death of two worthye Chris-
tians, Robert Campbel of the Kinzean-
clevgh, and his wife Elizabeth Campbel;”
and the dedication——“ To his loving sister
in Christ, Elizabeth Campbel of Kinzean-
clevch.”*
“ From Edinburgh the 24. of May.
1595. Your assured Friend in
Christ. J. D.
“ Finding this little Treatise (Sister,
dearelie beloved in Christ,) of late yeares
amongst my other Papers, which I made
about twentie yeares and one agoe, Imme-
diatlie after the death of your godlie
Parentes of good memorie, with whom I
This lady was the heiress of these two worthy

christians, after the decease of an only son.
__>___.._-_—_-_-.____ __ ._.1
was most dearlie acquainted in Christ, by
reason of the treble I suffered in those
daies for the good cause, wherin God made
them chiefe comforters unto me till leath
separated us. As I viewed it over, and
reade it before some godlie persones of late,
they were most instant with me, that I
woulde suffer it to come to light, to the
stirring up of the zeale of God’s people
among us, which now beginneth almost to
be quenched in all estaits none excepted.
So that the saying of the worthie servant
of God, John Knox (among many other
his forespeakings), proveth true, ‘ That
as the gospel entred among us and was
received with fervencie and heat; so he
feared it should decay and lose the former
bewtie, through coldnes, and lothsomnesse,
howbeit (as he saide many times,) it should
not be utterlie overthrowne in Scotland,
til the coming of the Lord Jesus to judg-
ment, in spite of Sathan and malice of all
his slaves.’ ”
After eulogizing his protector’s piety,
charity, lenity to his tenants, and his wis-
dom and integrity in settling private differ-
ences; and his lady for encouraging him
in these disinterested expeditions, instead
of grudging the expense which he incurred
as some wives did, he thus proceeds—
But to be plainer is no skaith,
Of surname they were Campbels baith :
Of ancient blood of the euntrie
They were baith of Genealogie:
He of the Shirefs’ house of Air
Long noble famous and preclair :
Scho of a gude and godlie stock
Came of the old house of Cesnok ;
Quhais Laird of many years bygane,
Professed Christ's religion plaine.
Being then minister of Libberton, near
Edinburgh, he was appointed by the
metropolitan presbytery to excommunicate
Robert Montgomery, minister of Stirling,
for contumaciously reviving a claim to the
archbishopric of Glasgow, after having
solemnly renounced it in the preceding



JOHN DAVIDSON.
229



general assembly. This appointment he
executed with a degree of boldness which
not a little surprised the court party?‘
Montgomery, it seems, had made a
simoniacal purchase of the archbishopric
of Glasgow from the earl of Lennox,
and accordingly, in March, 1582, accom-
panied by a number of soldiers, he pro-
ceeded to that city, where, finding the
minister in the pulpit, he went up to him,
and pulled him by the sleeve, crying out,
“ Come down, sirrah !” The minister re-
plied, “he was placed there by the kirk,
and would give place to none who in-
truderl themselves without orders.” There-
upon much confusion and bloodshed
ensued. The presbytery of Stirling sus-
pended Montgomery, and were supported
in their authority by the general assem-
bly; but the earl of Lennox, not inclined
to submit to this opposition, obtained a
commission from the king, to try and bring
the offenders to justice. Before, however,
that commission-court met, the earls of
Mar and Gowrie, the master of Oliphant,
young Lochleven, &c., carried the king to
Ruthven castle, and there constrained him
to revoke the commission, and to banish the
earl of Lennox from the kingdom. But the
king, having afterwards made his escape
from his rebellious nobles, banished all
those who had been engaged in the enter-
prise. Davidson was afterwards appointed
one of the commission sent by the assem-
bly to Stirling, to remonstrate with the
king on account of this measure in favour
of Montgomery. In consequence, how-
" “ Davidson pronounced the sentence of depo-
sition and excommunication; and although the
court threatened and stormed, it was intimated 011
the succeeding sabbath from the pulpits of Edin-
burgh and Glasgow, and all the surrounding
churches. \Vhen Lennox heard that Davidson had

I
i
1
ventured to preach in his own church on the'
sabbath subsequent to the excommunication, he
exclaimed,—— C’est un pelz't diable [—He is a little
devil l”--flI‘ Crie.
I
l
I
ever, of the fearlessness with which he had
admonished the king,* to whom the parlia-
ment had given the sole power in all
causes, ecclesiastic as well as civil, and the
tyrannous procedure against several of his
brethren which immediately followed,
Davidson found it expedient again to
make his escape into England, where he
remained for a considerable time.
Upon his return to Scotland, when the
church was enjoying internal peace, and
her ministers were living upon terms of
amity with their brethren in‘ the sister
kingdom, employed only in removing the
corruptions which had not been entirely
purged away after the expulsion of the
popish intruders; nay, even when they
were engaged peaceably in defending their
own presbyterianism against the court and
a few ambitious churchmen, who were
anxiously seeking to introduce episcopacy,
open hostilities were suddenly commenced
by a hot-headed and aspiring Zealot, doctor
Bancroft, in a declamatory sermon which
he preached before the parliament, and
which was published immediately after.
He represented the Scotch presbyterians
to be puritans; classing them with heretics,
and styling them proud, ambitious, covet-
ous, insubordinate, and inquisitorial; pests
to society; and called upon all magistrates
“ If they”
(the puritanical" geese and dogs”), said he,
to restrain and punish them.
“ will gaggle and make a noise In the day-
time without any cause, I think it very fit
that they should be rapt on the shinnes.”
This was too much for a man of David-
son’s piety and attachment to the reforma-
tion to bear silently. He, therefore, by
the consent of his brethren, published a
“protest against the rashness of the calum-
* Davidson told the king that he was present
only as a private christian, and not as president of
the assembly ; and, if he would not listen to coun-
sel; then, said the reformer, “ we must crave help
of Him who will hear us.”


230
SCOTS WORTHIES.

__
niator, and the reasons of the church de-~
clining to enter upon a defence of their
conduct,” in a small pamphlet of sixteen
leaves, entitled, “ D. Bancroft’s Rashnes
in rayling against the church of Scotland,
noted in an Answer to a Letter of a
WOI‘thy person of England, and some rea-
sons rendred, why the answere thereunto
had not hitherto come foorth.” It con--
cludesh“ Farewell, from Edinburgh, the
18. of September, 1590. Yours in the
Lord. J. D.”——The publication of this
reply elevated him very high in the estima-
tion of his brethren ; and, accordingly, we
find him afterwards employed in almost
every difficult emergency.
The “renewal of the covenant”
render the year 1590 ever memorable in
the history of the church of Scotland; and,
in effecting this, Davidson acted the prin-
cipal part. His own mind had been for a
long time deeply affected at the prevailing
corruptions, and he felt anxious that a
general reformation should be brought
about as speedily as possible. WVith this
view he laid before the presbytery of Had-
dington a proposal to that effect, by whom
it was transmitted to the general assembly,
at Edinburgh, in the month of March
following, and unanimously approved of.
This meeting was held in the Little church,
on the 30th of the same month, and Da-
vidson was elected moderator. On that
occasion he actually seemed more than
man. His deep and humble confessions in
prayer, addressed to the throne of the
Almighty, and his powerful exposure of
the defects of the church, both in doctrine
and practice, operated so powerfully upon
the minds of the audience, that all burst into
tears ;* and, with one heart, lifting up their
will
if‘ The passages of Scripture which on this occa-
sion he read and discoursed upon, were the 33d .
and 34th chapters of Ezekiel. He showed, in a
very affecting manner, that the design for which
they had met was to confess their sin, and firmly
right hands, renewed their covenant with
God, “ protesting to walk more warily in
their ways, and to be more diligent in their
charges.” An act of sederunt was there-
after passed, enjoining the same sacred
duty upon all synods and presbyteries,
which was afterwards observed, in the
month of October, with due solemnity.
In the general assembly held at Dundee,
1598, when the king was present, it was
proposed that the clergy should vote in
parliament in the name of the church.
Davidson, looking upon this measure as a
mere device for the introduction of bishops,
opposed it violently. “ Busk, busk, busk
him,” he exclaimed, “ as bonnily as you
can, and bring him in as fairly as you will,
. we still see him weel enough, we can dis—

cern the horns of his mitre.” He concluded
by entreating the assembly not to be rash;
for, “ brethren,” said he, “ see you not how
readily the bishops begin to creep up.”
Davidson was one of the principal speakers,
in opposition to the king’s motion; and one
Gladstanes in support of it. In course of
the debate, Gladstanes insisted on the
power which the priests had among the
ancient Romans, in proposing and making
the laws; Davidson refuted the assertion.
contending that they had no vote, although
he allowed that they were present in the
senate. “ Ah! where do you find that '?’
said the king. “ In Titus Livius,” replied
Davidson. “ Oh! are you going from the
Scriptures to Titus Livius then ?” retorted
his majesty. James Melville, in his Diary,
informs us, that on the question being called
for, the king’s motion was carried by a
majority of ten votes,—“ l\Ir Gilbert Brady
leading the ring, a drunken Orkney ass, and
the greater number following, all for the
bodie, without respect for the spreit.” Da—
resolve to forsake it. In this exercise he was
evidently assisted by the Holy Spirit. After
prayer, he preached from Luke xii. 22, having the
same assistance given him.



JOHN DAVIDSON.
231



\
vidson being desired to give his vote, re-
fused, and protested in his own name, and
in the name of those who should adhere
to him, and requested that his protest
should be inserted in the books of assembly.
Here the king interposed, and said, “That
shall not be gran ted; see if you have voted
and reasoned before.” “Never, Sir,”said
Davidson, “but without prejudice to any
protestation made or to be made.” He
then gave his protestation, which, after

having been passed from one to another,
was at last laid down before the clerk.
The king taking it up, and reading it,
showed it to the moderator and others
about, and at last put it in his pocket?‘
This protest and letter were the occasion
of farther trouble to him. For, in May
following, be was charged to compear be-
fore the council on the 26th, and answer
for the same, and was by order of the king
committed prisoner to the castle of Edin-

[Edinburgh Castle at the period—From Slezer s Theatrum Scotiaa]
burgh; but, on account of the infirm state
of his health, the place of his confinement
was changed to his own manse. After-
wards he was allowed to perform the duties
of his office in his own parish, and after
discharging these for some years, dur-
ing which he suffered much from bad
health, he died at Prestonpans, in the year
1604.
This worthyand much persecuted divine
possessed a considerable share of learning.
Besides the poems already noticed, a little
before his death he penned a treatise in
Latin, De Hostt'bus Ecclesioe Christi (of
the enemies of Christ’s kirk), in which
Row says, “he affirmes that the erecting
of bishops in this kirk is the most subtile
thing to destroy religione that could ever
be devised.” In 1602 he published. a

catechism, entitled, “ Some Helpes for
young Scollers in Christianity,” which was
reprinted in 1708, with a very curious
preface by Mr William Jameson, professor
of ecclesiastical history at Glasgow, in
which he exposes the forgery of Mr Robert
Calder, wh o, by a preten d ed qu otati on from
this catechism, had attempted to propagate
the falsehood that Davidson had recanted
his presbyterian principles before his death.
Archbishop Spottiswood, too, embraced
every opportunity of speaking disrespect-
fully of Davidson, particularly at the time
he was prosecuted at the king’s instance;
asserting, among other calumnies, that it
was his custom when brought to trouble,
it See this protest, and a letter sent by him to
the assembly of 1601, in Calderwood, pp. 420 and
450.


232
SCOTS WORTHIES.




“to flee away, and lurk a-while, till his
peace was again made.” Davidson was a
christian hero of a very different stamp.
“It is very easy,” says our authority, “for
a time-serving priest, who, by his tame
compliances can always secure himself
against falling into danger, to talk thus of
a man, from whose rebuke he more than
once shrunk, and to accuse him of cowardice
merely because he fled from the lawless
rage of a despot. But it is false that
Davidson either fled or concealed him-
self ;” for it is satisfactorily attested by the
records of the presbytery of Haddington,
that he appeared, according to his citation,
on the 29th of March; and, on the 5th of
April, it was farther certified to the pres-
bytery, that he was “stayit by ane heavie
fever.”
He was a man of sincere piety, indefati-
gable zeal in the cause of the reformation,
and strongly characterized by a boldness
and honesty, for which almost all the
early reformers were remarkable. David-
son particularly deserves notice on account
of the exertions which he made for the
religious and literary instruction of his
parishioners in Prestonpans. At his own
expense he built the church, the manse,
and the school, and schoolmastens house.
The school was erected for teaching the
three learned languages, and he bequeath-

ed all his heritable and moveable property
for its support.
He showed in some instances that he
was possessed, if not of the spirit of pro-
phecy, at least of a high degree of sagacity.
Calderwood relates, that Davidson “one
day seeing Mr John Kerr, the minister of
Prestonpans, going in a scarlet cloak like
a courtier, told him to lay aside that abomi-
nable dress, as he was destined to succeed
him in his ministry; which accordingly
came to pass. On another occasion, when
John Spottiswood, minister of Calder, and
James Law, minister of Kirkliston, were
called before the synod of Lothian on the
charge of playing at football on Sunday,
Davidson, who was acting as moderator,
moved that the culprits should be deposed
from their charges. The synod, however,
awarded them a slighter punishment; and
when they were called in to receive their
sentence, Davidson called out to them,
‘Come in, you pretty football men, the
synod ordains you only to be rebuked.’
Then addressing the meeting, he said,
‘And now, brethren, let me tell you what
reward you shall get for your lenity: these
two men shall trample on your necks, and
the necks of the whole ministry of Scot-
land.’ The one was afterwards archbishop
of St Andrews, and the other archbishop
of Glasgow.”



ANDREW MELVILLE.


ANDREW MELVILLE.

THIS eminent saint and servant of God,
inferior only to Knox in the great work of
the reformation, was born at Baldovy, near
Montrose, on the 1st of August, 1545.
Both of his parents died when he was only
two years of age; but his elder brother
Richard, to whom the estate of Baldovy
fell upon the demise of his father, took
upon himself the nurture and tuition of
the subject of our memoir?‘ In his juvenile
years, too, he was greatly indebted to the
maternal tenderness and affection of his
sister-in-law, who treated him upon all
occasions as one of her own children.
Being of a delicate constitution, and much
in the company of this amiable woman, he
The name of Melville is mentioned in Scottish
charters as early as the twelfth century. The
family are supposed, with great probability, to
have been of Anglo-Norman lineage. Of the
Melvilles of Baldovy, Richard Melville, the father
of Andrew, mentions the laird of Dysart, as the
chief of their branch of the family. Melville always
wrote his name zllelvz'nus in Latin, and was there-
fore often called .Melvin in English. Hence some
have concluded that his proper name was M'elvz'n,
and not Melville ; but without any other authority
than the above. This variety in the appellation
occurs in the earliest charters granted by the
family,-_viz., “ Galafridus de Mailvyn” grants to
the church of Dunfermline “ecclesiam de 3702'!-
arm,” with common pasture in “ villa de Mailvyn.”
In another--“ Galfridus de Zllalevz'n grants “ eccle- -



siam de 1Walevz'll;" and in this charter occur the @
names of “ Willi. (le d'l-Mpm'Zl" anrl “ Gregorius
de Malvz'll.”
the vernacular language lifelvil, zllelvill, now mo-
The name was anciently written in ,
ingratiated himself into her aifections, by
his docile and obedient behaviour, to such
a degree, that after the fondest caresses,
she would frequently exclaim, “ God give
me another lad like thee, and syne take
me to his rest.” To the end of his life he
retained a grateful sense of her attentions;
and, often, when his mind was relaxed
from the intensity of severe study, he ex-
pressed a peculiar pleasure in recurring to
the domestic scenes of that happy family.
His brother, perceiving him to be a boy
of quick understanding, resolved to culti-
vate his taste, and accordingly placed him
under the care of Thomas Anderson, then
teacher of*the grammar-school of Montrose,
to whom, it may be presumed, he was
' greatly indebted for an early knowledge of
the doctrines of the protestant religion, as
well as for having laid the foundation of
that classic literature, for which he was so
pro-eminently distinguished in future life.
But, to his pious brother, who had em-
braced the protestant faith several years
before Andrew’s birth, and who afterwards
became minister of the parish of Maritoun,
he chiefly owes his celebrity for his adher-
ence to the principles of the reformed reli-
gion, amidst all the persecutions with which
he was afterwards assailed.
Under the tuition of Thomas Anderson
young Melville was instructed, not only ii:
the principles of the Latin language, in
which he made great proficiency ; but also
dernized into the French orthography_illelvz'lle. lin gymnastic exercises, which had the
20
234
SCOTS WORTHIES.






_l



happy effect of invigorating his naturally
delicate fi"ame. These exercises were
chiefly, archery, golf, the art of fencing,
running, leaping, wrestling, and swimming,
in which every boy had his antagonist.
The pupils of this very judicious teacher
were also matched in their scholastic ex-
ercises, who thereby kept up a spirit of
emulation among those under his care; so
that it was observed of the teacher, that.
although by no means a profound scholar
himself, he had the happy art of training
the youth to excellence.

At the age of eleven, young Melville, ,
instead of going to college, was sent to
study Greek under Pierre de Marsilliers,
a native of France, who had been brought 5
to Montrose by the celebrated John Er-{
skine of Dun, for the purpose of improving
the literature of his native country. With
this talented Frenchman he remained two
years, prosecuting the study of that lan-
guage with the greatest eagerness.
From '
the same person, too, he acquired a know- 1
ledge of the French language, more correct i
than he could have obtained it at the
grammar-school. In those days the study
of this language was commonly conjoined
with that of Latin; but Creek was very
little known, even by the professors in
universities, until a period considerably
later.
After this preliminary training, so very
superior to that of most of his contempo-
raries, young Melville became an alumnus
of the university of St Andrews, in the
year 1559, and was entered in the college
of St Mary. The smallness of his stature,
and the delicate conformation of his body,
formed a singular contrast with his admi-
rable acquirements in literature. The
writings of Aristotle were then the only pre-
lections in all our Scottish universities, which
were studied and commented upon from a
Latin translation; but Melville drank from
the fountain head; the language of that _


author being already quite familiar to him?!‘
This superior attainment in the pupil, how—
ever, gave rise to no bad feeling on the part of
the professors,——-on the contrary, the young
student was lauded and caressed for his
assiduity, and incited to farther diligence
and perseverance in his career of fame.
By John Douglas, who was at. the time
rector of the university, he was shown
much marked attention. This kind gen-
tleman used frequently to invite him to his
house, and converse with him upon the
subject of his studies; and, so much pleas-
ed was he with the shrewdness and accu-
racy of his observations, that he would
take him between his knees, and stroke
his head, exclaiming, “ My silly, fatherless
and motherless boy, it’s ill to wit what
God may make of thee yet.”
In the matriculation list for the year in
which Melville entered college, among
other celebrated names we find those of
Thomas Maitlande and James Lawsone;
the former, brother of the famous secretary
of that name ; and the latter, colleague and
successor of the celebrated reformer. To
Lawson he seems to have been particularly
attached, as may very fairly be conjectured,
from the circumstance of a red line being
drawn under his name in the matriculation
roll, which Dr Lee believes to have been
done by Melville. With both of these
men, however, he lived in the most amica-
ble terms till the day of his death. Doubts
have been expressed whether Melville took
it James Melville in his Diary says,-—“ Our re-
gent told me of my uncle Mr Andrew Melville,
whom he knew in the time of his course in the
New College to use the Greek logicks of Aristotle,
which was a wonder to them, that he was so fme
a scholar, and of such expectation. All that was
taught of Aristotle he learned and studyed it out of
the Greek text, which his masters understood not.“
At the close of his academical studies he left
college with the reputation of being “the best
philosopher, poet, and Grecian, of any young
master in the land.”


ANDREW MELVILLE.
235


his degrees at this university or not. His
nephew, James Melville, asserts that he
did. This, however, is not authenticated
by the records of St Mary’s; but these
are understood, from some circumstance
with which we are not acquainted, to be
defective about this period.
During Melville’s stay at St Andrews,
George Buchanan returned from abroad;
and it has been supposed, from an expres-
sion used by Melville in a poem addressed
to this celebrated man, in which he calls
him “his preceptor and master of the
muses,” that he had actually studied under
Buchanan. This, however, is doubtful,
and therefore has not met with general
assent. Perhaps all that is meant by the
term “ preceptor” is, that as Melville him-
self was passionately addicted to poetry,
and wrote verses of no mean character,
but considering Buchanan to be very much
his superior in that art, he merely styles
him so, in this respect. Sir Thomas Ran-
dolph, upon more than one occasion, when
addressing Buchanan, uses the term “ my
maister,” but he does not confine these
words to him only; and therefore it is
probable, that nothing more was intended
than to convey an acknowledgment of
literary superiority.
So very celebrated were Melville’s lite-
rary acquirements, even at this early period
of his life, that they did not pass unobserved
by several foreign men of letters who at
that time visited Scotland. Bizzarus, an
Italian poet, who then visited this country
out of attachment to the reformed religion,
celebrates his talents and reputation in a
strain of great sublimity, in a short Latin
poem, which being altogether unintelligible
to the mere English reader, we give below
in a free translation?‘
“ To Andrew Jfelvil’le, a native ff Scotland.
“ The Bee never sips on the moorland or dell,
Such Hyblean sweets from the flower’s honey’d cell ;
Nor was wine ever pressed from the clustering vine,
With a flavour so rich as those accents of thine ;

Melville, being new in his nineteenth
year, resolved to complete on the continent
that education to which his ardent mind
aspired, and in which he found he could
proceed no farther at home. With this
view he sailed for France in the autumn
of 1564, and after considerable hinderances,
not unattended by danger, arrived in Paris.
Without loss of time, he recommenced his
studies in the university of that city, having
been enrolled in the Germanic nation,
which included Scotland, England, and
Ireland. Scaliger, Pontanus, and others,
inform us that it was no unusual thing in
those days to find from ten thousand to
thirty thousand students in that university.
It was then in a most flourishing state;
enjoying a peaceful repose between the
civil wars of 1563, and 1567, which had
dispersed many of its professors and
students, who had taken part in the con-
test; but who were now happily restored
to their former situations. Turnebus*
was professor of Greek, and Melville had
the good fortune to attend the last course
of lectures delivered by that distinguished
man. Mercerus and Quinquarboreus jointly
occupied the chair of Hebrew and Chaldee,
Under these able teachers he applied him-
self assiduously to the study of these lan-
guages, of which the professors in the
Scottish universities were at that time
ignorant. From Peter Ramus, too, pro-
fessor of “ Roman eloquence,” he acquired
a more acute knowledge of the Latin lan-
guage, and to him he was indebted for
that happy mode of teaching which he
Or the grace of thy manners, truth, probity, heart-—
\Vith piety void of dissembling and art :
These have knit thee, dear Melville, to me by a. love,
That time cannot alter nor distance remove.”
* It has been supposed that Turnebus was of
Scottish extraction, and that his proper name was
Tournebceuf, or Turnbull. Dernpster says he was
of the same family as \Villiam Turnbull, bishop of
Glasgow, who officiated in the cathedral from 1448
to 1454, and another writer affirms that he was of
the family of the Turnbulls in Liddesdale.



236
SCOTS WORTHIES.



afterwards so successfully practised in his
native country. Besides Melville, almost
all the greatest geniuses of that age studied
under Ramus, with one of whom, regent
Moray, prior of St Andrews, we are more
immediately concerned. Besides these
already mentioned, Melville received in-
structions in mathematics from Paschasius
Hamelius, Petrus Forcatellus, Jacobus
Carpentarius, and Joannes Scalignacus.
It is probable that he also took lessons in
Hebrew from the latter, as he bore a very
high reputation for his acquaintance with
Jewish and Rabbinical learning, and it
appears he was one of the royal professors
of that language, at the time Melville was
at Paris. He also attended the lectures
of Ludovicus Duretus, who was the
favourite physician of Charles IX. and
Henry III. During his residence in
France he became acquainted with the
intrigues of the Jesuits, who about that
time had opened a college, evidently for
the purpose of obtaining the ascendancy in
the management of the education of youth,
-——a circumstance which stimulated him
afterwards to use all his influence to
establish such a system of education in the
Scottish universities, as would prevent the
native youth from going abroad, where
they would be in constant danger of being
contaminated by the insidious devotees of
the church of Rome. Here, too, he devoted
his attention for some time to the study of
civil law, not with the intention of following
out the profession, but merely that he might
add this to his other acquirements, “as ‘
connected with a complete course of educa-
tion.” Indeed, so far back as 1220, pope
Honorius the third had strictly prohibited
civil law from being taught at Paris, or any I
place adjacent; and we have it upon un-
doubted authority, that this prohibition
continued in force even so late as the six-
teenth century, and that it was only re-
moved by an edict of parliament. on the 8th

‘day of May, 1679. As there was there-
fore no regular class, Melville removed to
the university of Poictiers, after a stay of
two years, that he might obtain his desired
object
From this period, 1566, may be dated
the commencement of Melville’s public life.
Although only twenty-one years of age, he
had acquired such a reputation for general
learning, that, immediately on his arrival
at Poitiers, he was elected a professor in
the college of St Marceon; the duties of
which he undertook very cheerfully; but,
without at the same time neglecting the
chief intention of his visit, viz., the science
of law. The period of Melville’s regency
was one of great celebrity to the university.
As was pretty common in those days,
there happened to be at that time a rival-
ship between the students of this college
and that of St Pivareau, in the composition
of verses. Melville was master of the art;
and, as might have been expected, his
pupils uniformly gained the laurel. As a
public teacher, he excelled in the art of
communication—a gift which compara-
tively few men of letters possess; and, as
the roots of both the Latin and Greek
languages were as familiar to him as his
vernacular tongue, it is not to be wondered
that archbishop Spottiswood said of him.
“ Rcdit in patriam Andreas lllelm'nus
bom's Ziterz's excuZtu-s, ct trium Zinguarum,
quarum eo seculo ignorantioe, iZZe famam
et tant-um non admirationem apud omnes
l peperit, callentissinws.”
In 1567, the civil war began to break
out afresh, and learning for a time me
with a serious interruption. The public
classes were discontinued; but Melville

* Andrew Melville revisits his country, adorned
with all the elegance of polite literature—being
profoundly skilled in the Hebrew, Greek, and
Latin languages: in this age of general ignorance,
he has, by universal assent, merited not only high
fame. but the noblcr tribute of admiration.



ANDREW MELVILLE.
237


“
l
found an asylum in the family of a coun-
seller of parliament, as tutor to his only '
son. The town was besieged in the follow-
ing year; and, during the heat of the
conflict, Melville, coming one day into his
room, found his promising pupil bleeding
profusely from the effects of a cannon ball
from the besiegers’ camp, which had pierced
the house, and inflicted a mortal wound.
During the short interval that elapsed be-
tween this and his death, the amiable youth
employed his time in comforting his afflict-
ed parent with the consolations of religion’
and expired in his tutor’s arms, pronoun-
cing in Greek the affecting words of the
Apostle—“ Master, I have finished my
course!” It is related of Melville, that he
never afterwards alluded to this mournful
scene without shedding tears. Although
he had sedulously avoided giving offence to
the catholics, with whom he had daily
intercourse, yet he was not altogether free
from being suspected of htving a bias to
the protestant faith. He had been observed
reading the Bible, by the officer who com-
manded a small party stationed to guard the
counsellor’s house; and on an alarm being
given one day that the besiegers were
meditating an assault, the officer called
him a Hugonot,* and even hinted at placing
him under confinement. Melville became
indignant, and, arming himself with all
possible expedition, took a horse from the
stable, and was preparing to mount, when
the officer requested him to stop. “ llo,”
replied Melville, “ I will this day show
myself to be as honourable and as brave a
man as you.”
might lose his commission, if his rashness
should be reported to his superior, employ-
ed the most urgent entreaties, and ever
after behaved towards Melville with the
most marked respect.
* The French catholics were accustomed at this
time to apply both this name and that of Christan-
dins to the protestants.-—Bultzus.
1 it was after nightfall when they reached it.



‘well qualified to undertake the duties of
l
The officer, afraid lest he I
1 knowledge of oriental literature, for which
No sooner was the siege raised, than
Melville, in company with a young F rench-
man, prepared to bid adieu to France;
and, without passports, leaving all his books
behind him, except a small Hebrew Bible
which he had slung in his belt, set out on
foot, and by striking out new paths for
themselves, they fortunately passed the
Gallic frontiers without interruption. Ge-
neva was the place of their destination, and
The city was strictly guarded on account
of the commotions in France, and the vast
numbers who daily sought admission from
that disorganized country. The sentinel
on duty eyed them with suspicion ; and
their appearance certainly bespoke them to
he in reality what the Frenchman told the
guard they were-—“ poor scholars from
France :” for their joint stock did not
exceed a crown. Melville, however,
assured the sentinel that they had money
enough to pay for what they would require;
but it was not till he produced his letters
of introduction to Beza, that the gates
were opened for their admission. Melville
at once attracted the notice of that distin-
guished scholar, who immediately recom-
mended him to his colleagues, as a person
professor of humanity, which chair happen-
ed at the time to be vacant. He was
accordingly put upon trial; and after a
long and severe examination in Virgil and
Homer, he acquitted himself so entirely to
the satisfaction of the examinators, that he
was immediately installed. A quarter of
a year’s salary was paid him in advance,
which, though small, proved a very season-
able relief. From the strict habits of
economy which he uniformly practised
this enabled him to appear with respecta-
bility, and at the same time to assist his
friend until he procured a situation.

It was here he acquired that accuratej

238
SCOTS WORTHIES.


he was afterwards so justly celebrated; for
Whilst he strictly attended to the duties of
his own class, he waited also with all the
humility of a scholar upon the instructions
ofsuch of his colleagues, as could add to his
stock of literary knowledge. Under Corne-
lius Bertram, a man of profound talents and
general erudition, he acquired a knowledge
of Syriac, which before that time had been
but little known in Europe; and with Fran-
ciscus Portus, a native of Candia, he per-
fected himself. So very accurate was his
knowledge of this language, that upon a
certain occasion, when the Cretan was
expatiating with great pathos and sublimity
upon the beauties of his native tongue,
Melville, either from well-weighed convic-
tion, or with a view to inform himself
still more fully of certain idioms and
peculiarities of the language, ventured to
oppose some of his teaeher’s favourite
opinions; when Portus, piqued at what he
no doubt considered illiberal interruption,
exclaimed in angry sarcasm—“V0.3 Scott,
vos barbari, docebitis nos Grcccos pro-
nunciatz'onem nostrce Zingucc, scilicct!Mg
Of all the learned men in Geneva, Mel-
ville felt the strongest attachment to Beza;
for, besides attending upon his public pre-
lections, he enjoyed the felicity of being at
alltimes admitted into his private company.
This attachment on the part of the learned
Genevan is to be attributed not only to
Melville’s splendid literary and mental
endowments, but also to the undeviating
adherence which he at all times expressed
to the ecclesiastical constitution of the
land of his birth, which upon all proper
occasions formed a delightful subject of
conversation to the two reformers. Beza
was partial to Scotland and to Scotsmen.
But “the massacre of the protestants,” says
Dr M‘Crie, “which commenced at Paris
on St Bartholomew’s Day, 15 7 2, and which
You Scots, you barbarians, will teach us how l to the service of that country--hallowed to
to pronounce our own language, forsooth'


wrought such we to France, was the occa~
sion of extending Melville’s acquaintance
with the learned men of the age. T hose
who escaped the dagger of the murderer
took refuge in Geneva, whose gates were
thrown open to receive them. ()ne hun-
dred and twenty French ministers were at
one time in the city. The academy over»
flowed with students, and the magistrates
were unable to provide salaries for the
learned men whom they were desirous to
employ, or to find situations for such as
were willing to teach without receiving
any remuneration.” It was at this time
that Melville became acquainted with
Scaliger, and Hottoman, and Bonnefoy,
French refugees, all of whom were dis-
tinguished for their talents and erudition,
and all obtained public appointments.
Scaliger was considered the first scholar of
the age he lived in; and even to this day
his critical authority is bowed to by the
profoundest of modern linguists. It is
certain that Melville studied Roman law
under Hottoman, and it cannot be doubted
that he also embraced the opportunity of
attending Bonnefoy’s lectures on Oriental
jurisprudence. Thus tutored and thus
qualified, his mind was deeply impressed
with uniform zeal for the liberties of his
country; and upon all occasions his juvenile
mind burned with indignation at the
thought of papistical tyranny. And, for-
tunately for his country, the time drew
nigh when he was to take leave of Geneva.
A Scottish gentleman with whom Melville
had been acquainted at St Andrews,
travelling as tutor to Alexander Campbell,
bishop of Brechin, visited this city in his
continental tour, and representing to Mel-s
ville the distracted state of his native
country, and the urgent solicitations of his
friends that he should now return home,
he immediately formed the resolution of
complying with their request, and devoting


ANDREW MELVILLE.
239





his remembrance by every tie of kindred
and early piety—the knowledge and experi-
ence which he had acquired abroad. With-
out delay he Waited upon the superiors of
the academy and his colleagues, respectfully
requesting their concurrence in resigning
his office. T 0 this they assented with
great reluctance; but at the same time
accompanied his demission with the most
flattering testimonials of esteem and regret.
Beza, particularly, has perhaps passed the
highest encomium that could be given of
his worth, in a letter to the General As-
sembly, certifying “that Andrew Melville
was equally distinguished by his piety and
erudition, and that the church of Geneva
could not give a stronger proof of affection
to her sister church of Scotland, than by
suffering herself to be bereaved of him that
his nctive country might be enriched with
his gifts.”
Melville now prepared for his departure;
and it may well be imagined that his
regrets were not few, at bidding adieu to
a place where he had spent the happiest
years of his life, in the acquisition of know-
ledge, and in the enjoyment of the society
of the most distinguished men of the age,
for literature and piety. To these he
often recurs in fancy in after life, especially

in an elegiac poem to the memory of John ‘
Lindsay, a Scotsman, who died at Geneva.
3 the latter.
He left that “ seat of genuine piety,” as he 5
himself expresses it, in the spring of 1574,
taking the route of Lyons, Franchecompté,
and descending the Loire to Orleans, in
company with the bishop of Brechin, and
his tutor. As the latter place was strictly
guarded on account of the civil war which
was still raging in France, the soldier on
duty accosted Melville, who was on horse-
back, in consequence of having sprained

nis foot, with “ “hence are you ?”-—“ From T
Scotland,” replied Melville.——“ O! you,
“ 1/ l
Scots are all Hugonots."——" Hugonots!
what’s that? we do not know such people ,
in Scotland.”-—“ You have no mass,” said
the sentinel—“vous vous n’avez pas la
il[esse”——“No mess!” retorted Melville
smiling; “ our children in Scotland go to
mess every day.” On their way home,
Melville and his fellow-travellers visited
Paris, where he was for some days engaged
in a public polemical dispute with a Jesuit,
the issue of which might have proved pre-
judicial to him, had he not been warned
by some of his friends to withdraw speedily
from the city. They accordingly took
their departure for London, where they
remained for a short time. Melville at
length reached Edinburgh, early in July,
1574, after an absence of nine years and
ten months.
Melville had been but a short time in
the metropolis, when he was visited by
George Buchanan, Alexander Hay, and
colonel James Halyburton, with an offer of
becoming tutor in the family of the regent.
This, however, he declined, assigning as a
reason, his long absence from his native
country, and his desire to spend some time
with his friends before he undertook any
public employment. His retirement, how~
ever, was of short duration. Both St
Andrews and Glasgow contended for the
, honour of having him appointed as princi-
pal of their universities; but he preferred
On his way to Glasgow, he
was introduced to the young king at
Stirling, then only nine years of age.
Here he found George Buchanan engaged
in writing his History of Scotland, whom
he consulted regarding the plan of educa-
tion he should adopt in the university over
which he was called to preside. “Such
was his success,” says James Melville,
“ that I dare say there was no place in
Europe comparable to Glasgow for good
letters during these years, for a plentiful
and good cheap market of all kinds of
languages, arts, and sciences ;” and such
was his happy art of communication, said


240
SCOTS WORTHIES.



one of his pupils, “that he learned more of ;
Mr Andrew Melville, cracking and playing,
for understanding of the authors which he
taught in the school, than by all his com-
mentators.” By Melville’s exertions, the
living of Govan, about two miles from
Glasgow, valued at twenty-four chalders of
grain yearly, was added to the university.
M‘ Gavin says the regent Morton offered
this to Melville, in addition to what he
enjoyed as principal, provided he would
not insist against the establishment of
bishops; but Melville rejected his offer
with scorn.
There is one part of Melville’s character
that fitted him so admirably for the arduous
duties to which he was soon to be called,
that we cannot pass unnoticed; we mean,
his acute discernment of human character,
and his firm persevering adherence to what
he conceived to be his duty, upon all occa-
sions. It may be sufficient here, to men-
tion only one instance of each. John
Golville, minister of Kilbride, (whether
East or West is not said, ) having been
called before the synod to answer for
dereliction of duty and deserting his min-
istry, made such plausible excuses upon
examination, as to satisfy all his brethren,
except Melville. He was the only one
who doubted Golville’s sincerity. Judging
from the evasive answers he received to
some rather sifting questions upon the
occasion, he told his brethren that he‘
would not be surprised to see Colville
desert his ministerial profession, and re-
nounce Christianity altogether; which
turned out exactly as Melville had sus-
pected. He soon after, from one step to
another, became an adherent of the church
of Rome, and wrote bitterly against the
protestant religion. “ Indeed,” says M‘Crie,
“ all his tergiversations, political and reli-
gious, were marked by uncommon want of
principle.” The other instance refers to
the state of discipline then in practice in
I
the university; viz., that of corporal chas-
tisement, which, although Melville himself
never inflicted, he supported firmly among
the regents under his superintendence.
Upon one occasion, a son of lord Herries
had been enticed from his studies, by the
dissolute son of a wealthy citizen, and had
been reported to the principal. In com-
pliance with his duty, and to restrain
others from similar offence, Melville caused
him to be cited to appear before the whole
college, and reprimanded him sharply for
his misdemeanors. Instead, however, of
being received with submission and penie
tence, the young gentleman became greatly
irritated, and meditated revenge. With
this intention, he withdrew into the city;
where, having collected a band of reckless
young men like himself, who were no
friends to the college, they waylaid the
professors and students upon a sabbath-day
as they were returning from church, and
Heriot, the ringleader, brandished a sword
in the principal’s face, making use at the
same time of the most disgusting and
opprobrious epithets. Melville bore all this,
says his nephew, with the utmost patience,
and with difficulty restrained the students
fi~om fighting in defence of their master;
for, “ although verie hot in all [public]
questions, yet when it twitched his parti-
cular, no man could crab him, contrar to
his common custom.” As soon as this
came to the ears of lord Herries, he
obliged his son to go down upon his knees
in the open court of the college, and beg
pardon of the principal. Melville received
this with all the dignity of office, but imme-
diately forgave the culprit. “ If they would
have forgiveness,” said he to one of the
professors upon another occasion, “let
them crave it humbly, and they shall have
it; but ere this preparative pass, that we
dare not correct our scholars for fear of
bangsters and clanned gentlemen, they
shall have all the blood of my body first.”




ANDRE W MELVILLE.
24] -





Melville was satisfied in his own mind
that prelacy had no foundation in Scripture
-he had witnessed the happy effects of
presbyterianism both in France and Gene-
va,-—he had taught that the words bishop
and presbyter are used “interchangeably”
in the New Testament, and that those who
pleaded for the divine origin of episcopacy,
did so from ignorance of the language of
Scripture; and therefore his advice was, to
strike at once at the root of the evil, and
restore that equality of rank among the
ministers of religion, which the court party
were seeking to destroy, and which cer--
tainly existed among the early pastors of
the church. Being a member of the first
General Assembly that had met since his
appointment in the university of Glasgow,
he stoutly advocated these principles. From
that period he was a member of all the
committees that sat from time to time,
collecting materials for the book of church
polity,-—he had a chief share in all dispu-
tations both public and private-—“ And
indeid,” says James Melville, “ that mater
cost him exceeding great peans, bathe in
mynd, body, and gear, during the space of
five or sax yair, with the gean of the regent
Erl of Morton and his bischopes utter indig-
nation. Yit with the wonderful assistance
of God, he bure it out till the abolishing of
hischopes and establishing of the presby-
teries according to the word of God,
wharby he gatt the name of the slinger out
of bischops.”

That Melville was at anyl
time violent and overbearing, as has been i
nominated by the assembly, at the request
of the regent, to attend a convocation of
protestants at Magdeburgh, for establishing
the Augsburg Confession; but for reasons
best known to himself, the matter dropped,
although frequently urged to it by the
Assembly. Finding that he could not by
any art gain over Melville to his party, the
regent attempted to intimidate him by
accusing him as a disturber of the peace,
and threatened to proceed against him
accordingly; but our reformer was not to
be so overawed. Not satisfied with the
proceedings of the Assembly at the time, he
sent for Melville to his chamber one day,
and after addressing him for some time on
the propriety of preserving the peace of the
church and kingdom, and saying that there
never would be quietness in the kingdom
till halfLa-dozen of them were either hanged
or banished the country,—Melville replied,
“Tush, sir; threaten your courtiers after
this manner. It is the same to me whether
I rot in the air or in the ground. The
earth is the Lord’s. I have been ready to
give my life where it could not be so well
wared, at the pleasure of my God. I have
lived out of your country for ten years, as
well as in it. Let God be glorified: it will
not be in your power either to hang or
exile His truth.” In reference to this and
similar castigations that he was wont to
hear from the lips of Morton, his nephew
writes~—“ Manic siclyke has he heard, and
far mae reported in mair ferfull form ; but
for all he never jarged a jot ather frae the
. . . . ‘
alleged by his enemies, is totally without ,- substance of the cause, or forme of pro
evidence.
firm persuasion, were the only weapons he ‘1
used ; but these were most effective,—
indeed, the whole of the proceedings of the
Assembly were characterized by a delibera-
tive wisdom, calmness of temper, and una-
nimity, that both astonished and greatly:
disappointed their enemies.
In 1577, Melville and other seven were
5 . - ,
Cool argument, and calm but { ceding tharln.’
The high state of learning and (.llSCIPIlIH
to which the university of Glasgow had now
been raised, and the comparatively low grade
of education in the other colleges, became an
object of public notoriety, and consequently
measures were taken for reforming and
new-modelling the same. A new theolo-
gical college was agreed upon for St An-
“4 9 n


242
$00 TS WORTHI ES.





drews; and it was resolved to translate
Melville thither, and to install Smeton in
his room.
Melville entered upon his charge at St
Andrews in December, 1580, and the per~
sons appointed by the General Assembly
to attend him were Sir Andrew Ker of
Tandonside, the lairds of Braid and Lun-
die, with James Lawson and John Dury,
says Dr M‘Crie; and Calderwood adds,
Mr Robert Pent, and William Christieson.
Although he was permitted to take with
him from Glasgow what teachers soever he
thought fit, yet being unwilling to deprive
that flourishing university of any of its
ornaments, he was content with taking his
nephew only, the celebrated James Melville,
whose preceptor he himself had been. He
appointed him professor of oriental lan-
guages. His own lectures here excited
universal admiration, and were attended
‘3y even some of the professors, who, though
teachers themselves, were not ashamed to
receive instruction from this justly cele-
brated man. But, enough we should sup-
pose has already been said to establish the
literary reputation of Melville, and there-

fore our attention shall now be exclusively
directed to the active part he took in the
affairs of the church, and the sufferings he
underwent in bringing about the great
work of the reformation.
In the Assembly which met at St An-
drews, in 1582, Melville was chosen mode-
rator, and preached the opening sermon
from 1 Tim. iv. 10-—“ For therefore we
both labour and suffer reproach, because
we trust in the living God, who is the
Saviour of all men, specially of those who
believe.” In his discourse, he censured in
strong terms the absolute authority which
was stealing into the church, and pointedly
named Beaten and Leslie, as the principal
agents in the matter, saying-—“ I know
this will be called interfering with civil
affairs ; but these things tend to the wreck
of religion, and therefore I rehearse them.”
Among other things, the assembly drew up
a statement of their grievances, to be laid
before the king, and Melville was one of a
deputation appointed to present the ‘same
to his majesty, who was at the time living
at Perth. His nephew had been pre-
monished to advise his uncle not to appear,



ANDRE W MELVILLE.
243


as Lennox and Arran were enraged at the
obstacles he had thrown in their way for
the prevention of their schemes ; but when
the young man informed him of the mes-
sage, and at the same time entreated him
not to make light of the friendly premoni-
tion Melville replied—-“ I am not afraid,
thank God; nor feeble-spirited in the
cause and message of Ohrist,—come what
God pleases to send, our commission shall
be executed.” The deputation having been
admitted to the king and council, presented
their grievances, craving redress; which,
after having been read, the earl of Arran,
looking round the assembly with a stern
countenance, cried aloud in a tone of
defiance, “ Who dare subscribe these trea-
sonable articles ?”--“ WE DARE,” said
Melville, stepping forward to the table,
“and will render our lives for it ;” and
then, taking the pen from the clerk’s hand,
subscribed his name before the whole
audience. Arran was thunderstruck and
humbled; and Lennox became mild as a
lamb; telling the commissioners they were
at liberty to depart.
Melville, besides his academical duties,
preached frequently in vacant pulpits, and
for some time he and his nephew divided
the labours of the sabbath between them,
in one of the churches, where, through the
protligacy of the times, no stipend could be
obtained for the minister. For this reason,
the church was without a stated preacher
for three years; and, upon one occasion,
Melville, being in the pulpit, inveighed
loudly against the conduct of those who
hindered the settlement of a minister.
“ Galled by his reproofs,” says Dr M‘Orie,
“ the provost rose one day from his seat in
the middle of the sermon, and left the
church, muttering his dissatisfaction with
the preacher. Placards were aflixed to
the new college gate, threatening to set
fire to the principal’s lodging, to bastinade
him, and chase him out of the town.”

Melville remained quite at ease amidst the
general alarm for his safety, and summoned
the provost to appear before the presbytery,
to answer for his behaviour in church, and
for contempt of divine ordinances. Nothing
could deter him from his duty; and where-
ever he found vice to exist, there he ex-
posed it. The writer of one of the placards
was pretty surely known from some of the
foreign phrases which it contained; and
this the preacher one day produced before
the congregation, at the close of his dis-
course. The suspected writer was sitting
before him, whom Melville characterized as
“ a Frenchified, Italianized, jolly gentle-
man, who had polluted many marriage-
beds, and who now boasted that he would
pollute the church of God, by bastinading
his servants.” Melville’s boldness upon this
and some former occasions had created him
a number of enemies, who lost no oppor-
tunity of prepossessing the royal ear against
him; the consequence of which was, that
he was summoned to appear before the
privy council on the 15th day of February
following, to answer for “ certain treason-
able and seditious expressions uttered by
him in the pulpit, when preaching on a
fast day which had been kept in the pre-
ceding month.
Not in the least intimidated, Melville
obeyed the citation with the utmost consci-
ousness of innocence, and answered to
the charge ; solemnly protesting, that nei-
ther in that sermon, nor upon any other
occasion, had he ever spoken disrespectfully
of his majesty. To this effect he had been
furnished with attestations by the university,
the town-council, the kirk session, and tin
presbytery of St Andrews. The court
however, set aside all these, and determined
to proceed with the trial. As a matter of
justice, l‘vleln'lle requested that his trial
should be remitted to the ecclesiastical
' courts, according to the word of God and
the laws of the realm—that he should be



244
SCOTS WORTHIES.



tried at St Andrews where the offence
was alleged to have been committed—that
he should at least be allowed to submit his
cause to the judgment of the rector and
professors of the university—that he should
enjoy the benefit of the apostolic injunction,
“against an elder receive not an accusa-
tion, but before two or three witnesses”——
that he should be confronted with his ac-
cuser; and, if the charges brought against
him turned out false, that he should have re-
dress for the calumnies. Having stated these
objections, the council delayed farther pro-
cedure till the day following. In the mean
time, suspecting that none of his objections
would be attended to, he drew up a written
protest against the proceedings of council,
and appeared next day, attended by com-
missioners from the university and presby-
tery, each determined to plead for their
respective rights; but both were denied
admission. Prepared for what he rightly
conjectured would be the issue, he gave in
his protest,—the reading of which threw
the king and Arran into such a violent fit
of passion, as to alarm those who were
waiting without for the decision. Melville’s
spirit rose with the emergency,—-and, boldly
defending his procedure, he unslung his
small Hebrew Bible which he always
carried suspended from his girdle, throwing
it down upon the table, saying-—~“ These
are my instructions and authority; see if
you can show me that I have acted con-
trary to my injunctions !” The chancellor
took up the book, and, observing that it
was in a language of which he was ignorant,
said to his majesty-—“ Sire, he scorns your
majesty and the council !”—-“ I scorn not,
my lords; but I am earnest and zealous
for the cause of Christ and his church I”—
Every art was used to induce him to with-
draw his protest; but this he peremptorily
refused. Judgment was therefore passed
upon him for having declined the compe-

“ irreverently” in their presence; and he
was sentenced to be imprisoned in Edin~
burgh castle during the king’s pleasure.
The place of his confinement was after-
wards commuted for Blackness, a solitary
and damp fortress in the county of Linlith—
gow, on the southern banks of the Forth,
kept by one of the chancellor’s underlings.
Melville’s friends were now at a loss
what to advise. All seemed perplexed but
himself, and he therefore laid his plans in
such a way that his real intentions were
entirely concealed. He made preparations
for his departure with all expedition, and
dined with aparty of ministers in Edinburgh,
desiring them, with great apparent cheer~
fulness, to prepare to follow him, and even
drank to the health of his captain, as he
jocularly styled the keeper of Blackness.
He desired the macer to be brought in, and,
with a seeming air of satisfaction, received
fi‘om him the summons to enter himself at
Blackness within twenty-four hours. Soon
after, having been joined by one of his
brothers, he withdrew for a little by per-
mission, and, having spent the night in the
vicinity of the city, he reached Berwick next
day in safety, to the sad disappointment of
Arran, who was in waiting with a troop of
horse, to honour him with an equestrian
convoy to his place of confinement.
His absence in England turned out
afterwards to be of great benefit to the
suffering church at home. Being beyond
the reach of his enemies, he could watch
the proceedings of the court, and its em-
issaries,—-one of whom, Patrick Adamson,
a vacillating, unprincipled creature, began
now to show his craftiness. The political
atmosphere was beginning to darken, and it
was evident that the storm would ere long
burst with awful vengeance. Adamson
had represented to the French presbyterian
ministers in London, and to the churches
in Geneva and Zurich, the principles and
tency of the council, and for behaving i behaviour of his brethren in a very false






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ANDREW MELVILLE. '
245


and odious light; but, fortunately, Melville
had obtained copies of these letters, and with-
out delay he wrote and contradicted Adam-
son’s statements. It is not difficult to see
that by these means Adamson thought to
obtain such a concurrence from the foreign
churches, as might at least form a plausible
pretext for the part he was acting. This,
however, he did not obtain. Even his re-
sidence at London did not favour the
cause he was sent to promote. Upon his
return, however, an act was passed by the
Scottish parliament, overthrowing presby-
tery, suppressing the General Assembly,
and consigning the whole ecclesiastical
government to the will of the king, without
whose permission no Assembly could be
held. Not a few of the faithful ministers
were cast into prison for their resistance; .
many of them gave up their livings, and
withdrew to England; and, as might have
been expected, a number succumbed to the
reigning power, and submitted to episcopal
ordination. At this time Melville wrote are-
ply to a “ Vindication of the Scottish Court,”
artfully drawn up by Adamson, impugning
the banished lords, and inveighing against
the proceedings of the church. Melville
rlid not escape his own share of abuse. '
In July, 1584, Angus, Mar, and the
master of Glammis, wrote to Melville to
meet them at Newcastle, along with James
Lawson, to consult about matters too
weighty for their own deliberation ; but
being absent from London at the time, the
meeting did not take place. This, however,
was the less to be regretted, as matters
were beginning to assume a different aspect
at home. The nation was discontented——
the principal courtiers were disgusted at
Arran’s lordly usurpation and arrogance—
and the king himself began to feel uneasy.
The exiled lords applied to Elizabeth for
permission to depart, which having been
obtained, the people from all quarters flocked
to their standard as soonas they set foot

in Scotland; and, upon their arrival at
Stirling, the army by which they were ac-
companied had such an imposing effect,
that Arran consulted his safety by flight
After mutual explanation, the king came
down from the castle, and the lords, having
laid down their arms, were immediately
reinstated in power and favour. Melville
anxious to lend his talents once more to
his suffering countrymen, accompanied the
banished nobles, and returned to his native
country, in November, 1585, having been
absent twenty months.
Melville’s first object after his return was
to attempt the restoration of the church’s
liberties, and to bring about the abrogation
of the black acts, as they were called; but he
met with strenuous opposition, even from
quarters where he least expected it. The
exiled lords having regained their tempor-
alities bestirred themselves but very
slovenly in the cause, and the king there-
fore, emboldened by their imbecility, de-
clared that he would resist any alteration
of the existing ecclesiastical law, as in-
terfering with his personal prerogative,
which he would maintain at all hazards;
and this the cowardly nobles, in violation
of their former good faith, took no steps
to oppose. A deputation of ministers was
therefore nominated to confer with the
nobility, and to urge the fulfilment of their
promises; but, although entreaties, expos-
tulations, nay threats, were employed, it
was of no avail. The king’s determination
not to part with his (usurped) prerogative,
served as an objection to every point.
There was therefore no hope but to apply
to James himself. Their reception was
far from being courteous; and in the course
of the interview, they were shocked at the
iteration of language, by which they had
been frequently before assailed by Lennox
and Arran,—-“ language,” says Dr M‘Orie,
“ not more disrespectful to them, than in-
decorous from the mouth of a king”



246
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Melville urged his suit with his wonted
firmness, and spoke in such plain terms as
were not altogether agreeable to the ear
of royalty. The king, however, relaxed so
far as to require them to write out their
objections to the existing law. To these
the liil‘lg his own interpretation, add-
ing, that it should be as authentic as an
act of parliament. Nothing farther could
be obtained at the time, than that all min-
isters and masters of colleges were at
liberty to return to their places and pro-
fessions; but, on the other hand, an act
had just passed through parliament, doom-
ing to death,-—“ to be executed with the
utmost rigour”—all who should publicly or
privately “speak to the reproach of his
majesty’s person or government, or mis-
construe his proceedings,”—prohibiting at
the same time, “all leagues or hands
among the subjects, without his majesty’s
privity and consent, under whatever pre-
text they should be made.” Adamson,
too, laboured incessantly to keep the breach
open, and to incense his majesty still more
against Melville. Discoursing one day
with the king upon the subject, says Cal-
derwood, he exclaimed, “ By the Lord God,
Sire, (for the bishop did not scruple to
encourage his majesty in his profane habit
of swearing !) had that enemy to lawful
authority remained another half-year, he
had pulled the crown off your head by his
seditious doctrine—for he taught that kings
should come by election, as the multitude
pleased to put them up or down.” Adam-
son was excommunicated by the General
Assembly for his double dealing; and he
in his turn drew up an excommunication
of Melville and other ministers, which he
caused to be read publicly, at the same
time preferring a complaintto the king and
parlizunent.

confine himself to the north side of the



sity of St Andrews~—aided however by the
secret influence of a minion of majesty—-
Melville was commanded to wait upon the
king at Falkland, where his majesty
generally spent the summer. Having been
introduced into the royal presence, he was,
after mutual explanations, restored to fa-
vour, and ordered to resume his duties in
the university.
Melville’s re-admission to favour now
induced the General Assembly to choose
him their moderator in the Assembly which
met in June, 1587, and also to nominate
him their commissioner to the approaching
In virtue of his office as mod‘
erator, he was at that time of signal service,
parliament.
not only to the church but to the nation.
The kingdom was in a state of alarm at
the threatened invasion of the Spanish
Armada, and the king was amusing himself,
in writing a commentary upon the book of
Revelation, to prove that the Pope was
Antichrist, the man of sin—the Jesuits
and priests were corresponding with the
Pope, and instigating the people to a revolt.
in the event of the enemy effecting a land-
ing; and a general massacre of the protest-
ants was to have summed up the catas-
trophe. Under these circumstances, Mel-
ville felt himself warranted to summon a
pro re norm meeting of Assembly, early in
the following year, which he opened with
a brilliant address, in which he laid before
them his reasons for calling the meeting.
All were unanimous in providing against
the threatened danger, and made an offer
of their lives and fortunes, in defence of
the country, and Melville was appointed to
lay the same before the king. The pro-
vidential dispersion of that formidable fleet
l o .
is known to all, and, fortunately no sacri-
Melville was now for a time '
laid under civil restraint, and ordered to .
fices were required. This, however, had
not the effect of silencing the restless and
turbulent spirit of the papists. Bent upon
supremacy, they busied
themselves in
Tay; but at the solicitation of the univer- l fomenting a new conspiracy, and even




ANDREW MELVILLE.
247


wrote to the Spanish ‘government to send an army direct to Scotland, as the sure
way of obtaining possession of England.
Melville was again at his post. Having
called another meeting of Assembly, he
was re-elected moderator, in which, assisted
by Thomas Craig and other distinguished
lawyers, such measures were adopted as
enabled the government to frustrate the
intentions of the insurrectionists, by the
'liscovery of their correspondence.
The ecclesiastical horizon now began to
brighten, in consequence of the united
efforts of Melville, Chancellor Maitland,
and Robert Bruce, using their influence
with the king to retrace his steps. James,
although sorely importuned by the enemies
of presbyterianism, yet conceiving a high
opinion of the talent, integrity, and prudence,
of the three reformers, lent a favourable
ear to their admonitions. Bruce had par-
ticularly gained upon the king’s good opinion,
and he acted in all things in perfect har~
mony with Melville. During the king’s
absence in Denmark, on the occasion of‘
his 'marriage, he declared that he had
more faith in Bruce’s preserving public
tranquillity, than in the whole of his nobility;
and, upon his return he found it to be
exactly as he had predicted.
By special invitation Melville was pre-
sent at the coronation of the queen, on the
17th of May, 1590; and immediately after
the crown was placed upon her head,he pro-
nounced a Latin poem which he had com-

l
ANISKION, a copy of which the learned
reader will find in Delicioe Poetarum
Scoto'rum, tom. 2. pp. 71-76. Of this
poem, Lipsius, after he had read it, ex-
claimed—Revere Andreas Melvimts est
serz'o doctus ; and Scaliger, in a letter to
the author, wrote, Nos talz'a nonpossumusf‘
James, however, soon forgot his fair pro~
mises; and the silly vacillating monarch
allowed himself to be swayed by the party
at court. The indifference which both
king and courtiers showed to the murder
of the Earl of Moray had given great ‘
offence to the reformers, and therefore
Melville and others were commissioned to
wait upon the king, and remonstrate with
him for allowing such barbarity to pass
unpunished. The freedom with which the
deputation opened their minds upon the
subject was far from being satisfactory to
the king, and he testified his displeasure in
terms the reverse of being pacific. Melville
defended himself and his party with con
siderable warmth; and, upon being inter-
rupted by the chancellor, who did not feel
altogether at ease in the conversation, he
replied, “ that on such a theme he would
not be silenced by him or any indi_
vidual beneath his majesty.” The king
said that Moray, Knox, and Buchanan,
could be defended only by seditious and
traitorous theologues. Melville replied,
that they were the men who had set the
crown upon his head, and therefore deserved
better treatment. His majesty said that
posed for the occasion, although he did not his CI‘OWII Came to him by succession, and
know that he was expected until two days
before the ceremony.
l
l
was not given to him by any man. “ But
James was somuch they were the instruments (replied Mel
delighted both with the composition and Ville); and whosoever informs your made“)
the manner in which it was recited, that sinistrously of these men. neither loves you
be publicly thanked the author,—saying,
“that he had that day done him and the
country such honour as he never could
requite ;” and at the same time gave orders
that the poem should be immediately
printed. The title of the poem is STEPH-
nor the commonwealth.” To such a
pitch of excitement had the popular indig-
nation now risen, in consequence of the
assassination of the earl of Morav, that
-" In fact, Andrew Melville is an admirable
scholar.”_“ I could not do the like!"



248
SCOTS WORTHIES.



they did not hesitate to accuse both James
and his courtiers as having been accessory
to the murder. Foresecing, therefore, that
nothing would allay the ferment but a
timely compliance with the wishes of the
reformers, the royal assent was given to
an act ratifying presbytery, as “most just,
good, and lawful ;” and proclamation was
made accordingly at the market cross of
Edinburgh, to that effect. After a painful
but unflinching struggle, for nearly eighteen
years, Melville was at length gratified with
the completion of his wishes, sanctioned by
the state, as well as by the church. Mel-
ville now resumed his academical labours
with a placidity of mind to which he had
long been a stranger.
In 1.590, he was elected rector of the
university, in room of the venerable James
\Vilkic, principal of St Leonard’s college;
and in this new situation he conducted
himself with that firmness, decision, and
prudence, as supreme, which had formerly
characterized him, when subordinate. For
several years he acted as ruling elder, and
exerted himself to the utmost, in filling up
the kirk session, with men of piety, talent,
and influence. In those days the office of
elder was attended with much labour and
personal inconvenience. Besides giving
attendance upon the weekly meetings of
session, they had to assist the minister in
examining the congregation before the
communions, take cognizance of profane
swearers, sabbath-breakers, violators of the
fifth commandment, intemperate persons,
slanderers, backbiters, as well as trespasscrs
of the laws of chastity; and, in all these
our reformer showed himself ever alive to
the glory of God, and the purity of the
church. One of his chief objects was to
see that vacant parishes were supplied with
proper ministers. Previous to this period,
the deficiency had been very great; for
when Melville came first to St Andrews,
there were only five members of presbytery;
and now the number had increased to
sixteen. Among these were David Black
and Robert Wallace, two of the most
‘ faithful and laborious ministers of any age.
The affairs of the kingdom were still in a
very disorderly state; James was still the
‘ same babyish creature as formerly ;——still
; in leading strings,-—and the papists
taking advantage of his imbecility, were in
correspondence with the king of Spain, to
land thirty thousand men in Scotland, for
the purpose of invading England. James
himself was strongly suspected of being in
the plot; and, upon the authority of Cal-
‘ derwood, we mention, that upon the dis-
covery of the conspiracy, by the interception
of letters, one of them was suppressed
‘ because it “ touched the king with know-
. ledge and approbation of the trafliquing, and
i promise of assistance.” And, indeed, his
{ majesty’s subsequent conduct tended greatly
‘to strengthen the suspicion. It was well
known that his mind was secretly addicted
to popery; and therefore he found great
fault with the presbyterian ministers for
meeting to devise measures for counter~
acting the plot. They, however, defended
themselves with spirit, and told the king
that it was not expedient to stand upon
) forms, when they saw his person, the church,
I and the nation in danger. James was
soon pacified, and testified his sense of their
loyalty, by requesting them to assist his
. council with their best advice. The mea-
sures which they found necessary to adopt,


in the mean time, were not, however,
altogether to the king’s mind; for, the first
step which they deemed it advisable to
adopt, was, to excommunicate the popish
lords; and this he tried every method to
counteract. Melville fell particularly under
: the royal displeasure for the part he had
taken in the affair; but at a convention of
' estates which was held at Linlithgow, in
\ October, 1593, he told the king his senti-
ments very freely,—boldly reproving him
4__-
ANDREW MELVILLE. 249



for the manner in which he had spoken of i rebels, who felt inclined to take the com-
the principal agents in bringing about the ' mand upon himself, after the defeat of the
reformation, and the partiality he had ! earl of Argyle by lord Glenlivet; and
shown to the avowed enemies of both his fortunate it was that he thought of taking
own throne and the churcli,—challenging, . Melville with him; for the measures which
at the same time, his advisers t0 Stand he recommended were the means of bringing
forward and not dissemble, and he would about tranquillity. Finding that they were
prove them traitors to the crown and king- to be hard pressed, the rebels had retreated
dom of Scotland—failing Which he WOUld within their mountain fastnesses ; and thus
go to the gibbet. the king’s troops began to be dispirited at
In the General Assembly which was held , the prospect of a tedious campaign, which
in May, 1594, Melville was again placed '1 became so much the more grievous, as they
in the moderator’s chair. The sentence of A had been some time without pay. In these
excommunication which the synod of Fife i circumstances, his majesty was advised not
had passed against the popish lords was I to proceed to extremities against the in-
unanimously confirmed and ratified, upon surgents; but Melville counselled otherwise,
the grounds that they had refused to take and the king thought it would be expedient
the benefit of the act of abolition, and were i to listen to his admonition. Orders were
I
still in arms, persevering in their corre- 1 therefore given forthe immediate demolition
spondence with the Spanish government. of the castle of Strathbogie, and the princi-
At this assembly the king and the ministers pal seats of those who had taken part with
came to a better understanding than at any A him. This had the desired effect, and the
time before; and they enjoined all its ' discontented noblemen soon after left the
members to beware of uttering from the kingdom.
pulpit any rash or irreverent speeches Melville’s disinterested friendship and
against the king and his council. Never- strong attachment to David Black, one of
theless the popish lords continued still un-
the ministers of St Andrews, whose name
awed; they were in a state of open rebel- i‘ we have already introduced, had very nearly
lion; and, for all that had been said and involved him in serious difficulties. In
done, they found not a few friends in the . consequence of a lawsuit which Black had
parliament which was held in the month [ seen it necessary to raise for the cause of
of June. Melville was again at his post ; A public justice against a person of the name
and, in presence of the lords of articles, of Burley, the latter, fearing that he would
insisted upon speedy measures being adopt- be nonsuited, laid a complaint before the
ed against the leading conspirators, in court, that Mr Black, in his sermons, had
order to secure the safety of religion, and ‘ spoken disrespectfully of the late queen,
the tranquillity of the kingdom; and, so 1 and at the same time accused Melville of
powerful was the influence which his speech aiding and abetting him in the use of such
had upon the assembly, that the majority language. Black was accordingly called
of the lords of articles consented to the , before a meeting of the privy council and
forfeiture of Huntly, Angus, and Errol, : a few select ministers, where, upon being
and their decision was ratified by parlia-
interrogated, he declared his willingness to
give an account of his sermons before a
' proper tribunal; but begged to decline
‘ giving any explanation before that court,
which he said was neither ecclesiastical nor



ment.
Melville was now, at the express request
of the king, called to accompany him in
an expedition to the north, against the



2 I
250
SCOTS WORTHIES.






overruled, and the examination of proof was
proceeding, when Melville, suspecting what
was going on, knocked at the door for
entrance and was admitted. Like his
precursor Knox, who “ feared not the face
of man,” he craved permission to be heard
upon a point of the most serious import-
ance. Liberty having been granted, he
fearlessly told his majesty, that although he
was king of Scotland, he was not king of
the church, and therefore the present court
had no right to try the cause which had
been brought before them. But if he had
any cause of judicature here, it ought rather
to be to try the traitor Burley, than to
interfere with the faithful servants of the
Lord Jesus, the King of the church, in the
execution of their duty. Turning to Burley
and pointing to him, he then told the king,
that he had been repeatedly guilty of trea-
son against the government, by taking his
majesty’s peaceable subjects out of their
houses in the night time, and harbouring
in his own house the king’s rebels and
enemies. Burley, trembling for fear, fell
on his knees, and cried out for justice.
“ Justice,” exclaimed Melville,——“ would to
God you had it ! You would not be then here
to bring a judgment from Christ upon the
king, and thus falsely and unjustly to vex
the faithful servants of God !” Moved at
what he considered unwarranted presump-
tion in Melville, the king attempted to
silence him ; but our reformer was not to
be so overawed; wherefore the king, address-
ing both parties in a strain of humour, said
“ they were both little men, and their heart
was at their mouth,” and thus the affair
ended. The king by this time saw that it
would be impolitic to turn Melville against
his government, and therefore he immedi-
ately sent for him to a private audience,
where, after unrestrained but friendly com-
munication on both sides, Melville was dis—
missed with the greatest courtesy.


civil. These objections, however, were i We have now come to another memora~
ble era in the history of the church (15 96)
and, it is pleasant to observe, that as her
difficulties began to thicken, so did our re
former’s vigilance and courage begin to be
still more conspicuous. The forfeited lords
had secretly returned to the country—the
Scottish priests abroad were in close com-
munication with the king of Spain, who
was still bent upon invading England—
James was aware of all this, and he re~
mained in a state of listless inaction—and
the country was in the greatest alarm, lest
perhaps the popish lords should obtain a
pardon, nay—be readmitted into his
majesty’s counsels. This was no time for
inactivity on the part of the reformers,
and accordingly we find them upon their
watchtower. Huntly had made offers to
the government, and a meeting of the privy
council was held at Falkland, to consider
these. The more moderate of the clergy
were also summoned to attend, but Melville
was among the uninvited. Conceiving how_
ever that he had a right to be present, as
a commissioner from the General Assembly,
he appeared along with the rest of his
brethren; and when the king asked him
why he had intruded, he replied, “Sire,
I have a call fi~om Christ and his church,
who have a special interest in this conven-
tion; and I charge you and your estates in
their name, that you favour not their
enemies, nor go about to make citizens of
those who have traitorously sought to
betray their country to the cruel Spaniard,
to the overthrow of Christ’s kingdom.“
Here he was ordered by his majesty to
withdraw, which he did, but not before his
words had the happy effect of encouraging
the other ministers to hold out, and resist
the proposals of the court. A convention
of the estates being seen after called at
Dunfermline to take the matter again into
* M‘Crie’s Life of Melville.


ANDRE W MELVILLE.
251


consideration, the presbytery sent thither king James the Sixth is, and of whose king-
two of their number to watch their pro-
ceedings, and to solicit that the promise
which the king had made them, declaring
that he did not intend to carry the resolu—
tions of the privy council into effect, should
not be violated. Their petition, however,
was thrown out, and the Falkland measures
confirmed and ratified.
But the General Assembly were not to
be outdone even by this. Without delay
a commission was appointed to go to F alk—
land, and lay their grievances before the
king. Being graciously admitted to pri-
vate audience, they began through James
Melville, their president, to exhort the king
to consider what he was doing, and to
beware of the consequences that would
follow from the steps he was pursuing.
Scarcely, however, had he opened his
speech, when the king began to storm and
rage, saying, that they themselves had been
the cause of all the alarm, by infiising into
the minds of the people the most unwar-
rantable and groundless fears.
dent was proceeding to reply in his usually
calm manner, when his uncle, our reformer,
The presi-
unable to bear any longer, caught his
majesty by the sleeve, in the warmth of his
excitement, and calling him God’s silly
vassal, says Dr M‘Crie, he thus addressed
him,——“ Sire, we
reverence your majesty in public; but
since we have this occasion to be with your
majesty in private; and, since ye are brought
in extreme danger both of your life and
will always
humbly
crown, and along with you the country_
l quarrelling them for their convening and
and the church of God are like to go to
wreck, for not telling you the truth, and
giving you faithful counsel, we must dis
charge our duty, or else be traitors both to
Christ and you. Therefore, Sire, as divers
times before I have told you, so new again
I must tell you, there are two kings and
two kingdoms in Scotland—there is Christ
Jesus the King of the church, whose subject '
l
I
l
l
l


dom he is not a king nor a lord, nor a
head, but a member. Those whom Christ
has called and commanded to watch over
his church, and govern his spiritual king~
dom, have sufficient power and authority
to do this both jointly and severally,—-the
which no christian king or prince should
control and discharge, but fortify and assist,
—otherwise they are not faithful subjects of
Christ and members of his church. We
will yield to your place, and give you all
due obedience; but again I say you are
not the head of the clmrch—you cannot
give us that eternal life which even in this
world we seek for, and you cannot deprive
us of it. Permit us then freely to meet in
the name of Christ, and to attend to the
interests of that church of which you are
the chief member. Sire, when you were
in your swaddling-clothes, Christ Jesus
reigned freely in this land, in spite of all
his enemies :—his officers and ministers
convened and assembled for the ruling and
welfare of his church, which was ever for
your welfare, defence, and preservation,
when these same enemies were seeking
your destruction and cutting off. Their
assemblies since that time continually have
been terrible to these enemies and most
steadable to you. And now, when there
is more than extreme necessity for the
continuance and discharge of that duty,
will you, drawn to your own destruction by
a devilish and most pernicious council,
begin to hinder and dishearten Christ’s
servants and your most faithful subjects,
the care they have of their duty to Christ
* and you, when you should rather commend
and countenance them, as the godly kings
and emperors did? The wisdom of your
counsel, which I call devilish, is this, that
ye must be served by all sorts of men, to
come to your purpose and grandeur, Jew
and Gentile, papist and protestant ;—-and



252
SCOTS WORTHIES.



n
because the protestants and ministers ofl
Scotland are over strong and control the
king, they must be weakened and brought
low by stirring up a party against them;
and, the king being equally indifferent,
both shall be fain to flee to him. But,
Sire, if God’s wisdom be the only true
wisdom, this will prove mere and mad folly
-—his curse cannot but light upon it,—in
seeking of both ye shall lose beth,—where-
as in cleaving uprightly to God, his true
servants would be your sure friends, and
he would compel the rest counterfeitly and
lyingly to give over themselves and serve
you.” Undissembling, free, and bold, as
this speech certainly was, it had the effect
of quieting the king—for the moment,
at least. He solemnly declared his igno-
rance of the return of the popish lords; and
assured the commissioners that no favour
should be shown them until the church
was satisfied. But James was master of
finesse, and his future conduct plainly
evinced that he spoke with insincerity.
Melville took his departure from Edin-
burgh on the 15th of December, and of
course was not present at the much-talked
of feud between the octa'vz'cms and cubica-
Zars, as the parties were called, and which
has been much exaggerated by almost all
writers. This tumult, however, was the
cause of James issuing a proclamation that
all the courts of justice should from that
time be transferred to Perth ; and that no
Assembly, synod, or presbytery, should be
held in Edinburgh. A meeting of the
estates and General Assembly was summon—
ed by the king, to be held in February at
Perth, to consider the state of affairs; but
Melville was prevented from attending, in
consequence of business connected with the
university, which required his presence.
Of the proceedings, however, he had timely
information from his nephew, who left the
convention in disgust. At this assembly
the king carried all his measures, swaying


the members as he found most convenient
for his own ends. It cannot be doubted
that this was almost entirely owing to
Melville’s absence; and, indeed, the king
was heard to express himself in words to
that effect, and to add, that on that account,
he dreaded his opposition in the Assembly
which was appointed to meet at Dundee,
on the 10th May following. Melville
was greatly agitated on learning how the
convention had acted; but the repeated
victories he had obtained over the king,
and the powerful influence he had among
his brethren, kept him from desponding
For presbyterianism he was ready to sub-
mit to any sacrifice—even to lay down his
life for it, if necessary ; and therefore, that
he might avoid even the semblance of sub-
mitting to the king’s usurped prerogative,
he, with some others ofhis brethren, held the
meeting of Assembly on the ordinary day.
Having opened the meeting according to
prescribed form, and considered the steps
most proper to be taken, the moderator
closed their proceedings with fervent prayer
to God for direction. It was agreed to
refer all business to the king’s Assembly
appointed to meet at Dundee. At the
time appointed Melville made his appear-
ance there among the rest; but before the
hour of meeting, James Melville was sent
for to advise his uncle to return home, for
fear of the king’s displeasure. To this his
reply was, that it would be to no purpose, for
he knew well, that his uncle would submit to
death, rather than act contrary to what he
conceived to be his duty. Melville and
his nephew were both desired to wait upon
the king next day; and, says James
Melville in his diary, they were at first
both very calm, but when my uncle
began to speak his mind freely, the king
became hot and furious-—“ and there they
heckled on, till all the house and close
baith heard.” At this meeting also, James,
by the help of the northern ministers


ANDREW MELVILLE.
253


gained so far upon the assembly as to get
fourteen ministers nominated, to advise
with him “ in all affairs concerning the
weal of the church, and entertainment of
peace and obedience to his Majesty within
his realm.” The king’s real intention in this
was to get quit of presbyterianism altogether,
under the pretence of arranging regarding
the ministers of Edinburgh and StAndrews,
providing ministers for vacant churches, and
allocating stipends for the whole throughout
the kingdom ; although he had artfully con-
cealed this from the Assembly.
James now began to rule with a high
hand, and, by virtue of his assumed prero—
gative, summoned the presbytery of St
Andrews to appear before him at Falkland;
and there, in opposition to all their
remonstrances, he restored to his min-
isterial ofiice and living, a minister who
had been deposed for immoralities. Not
content with this, attended by his privy
counsellors, he visited St Andrews with the
intention of ejecting the ministers, and
placing the university under such subjuga-
tion as might deter them from thwarting
him in the schemes which he was meditat-
ing: and, to such a length did he carry his
insolence, that he imperiously ordered
Robert \Vallace to desist in the middle of
a sermon. But Melville was not silent
upon the occasion. Regardless of the
royal presence, and that of his attending
sycophants, he rebuked the king sharply
for his interference, and at the same time
did not spare the commissioners for their
tacit acquiescence in such unwarranted and
unauthorized conduct, although he could
not at the time be free from the suspicion
that he himself might be the next object
of royal persecution. And, so indeed it
happened. Every method was tried to
intrap our reformer. The king dreaded
him more than all the other ministers in
the kingdom ; and, therefore, to get him out
of the way was the grand aim of James

and his party._ At the visitation of the '
university which took place at this time, a
long catalogue of complaints was handed
in to the king, from persons whose displea-
sure he had incurred; but from all these
Melville cleared himself so satisfactorily,
that even the tortuous mind of James could
find nothing plausible enough whereon to
found an accusation. It was however
necessary to visit him with some mark of
royal censure, and therefore he was, to suit
the king’s purposes, degraded from the
Rectorship of the college—an office which
he had held for seven years, with much
honour to himself, and great usefulness to
the seminary. It was easy for James to
find pretexts for this measure; but his main
object was to get Melville debarred from
attending the church courts, where he had
always been a sharp thorn in the king’s
side; and this he attempted to effect by
enacting a regulation, that no doctor or
regent, teaching only theology or philoso-
phy, without having the pastoral charge of
a particular congregation, should have a
seat either in kirk sessions, presbyteries.
synods, or General Assembly, under pain of
deprivation of office. All this, however,
did not in the least intimidate Melville;
for he determined to adhere to his privilege,
cost what it might; and this he very soon
had an opportunity of evincing, by his
attendance at a meeting of the synod of
Fife, where, upon being challenged by
Thomas Buchanan, an apostate, as to his
right to be present, he defended himself,
by telling the tergiversator, that it had
been his province to expound the word of
God, and to sit and vote; nay, even preside
in ecclesiastical courts, when he was only
teaching hie, haze, hoe, to young men and
boys.
At the General Assembly held at Dun-
dee, in 1588, Melville made his appearance,
notwithstanding the restrictions under
which he had been laid at the royal visita-



254
SCOTS WORTHIES.



tion at St Andrews; but when his name
was called, his majesty objected, and de-
clared that he would permit no business to
be done, until Melville had withdrawn.
Melville defended himself with his wonted
boldness, and presence of mind, and told
James that his veto could extend only to
his official academical situation, as rector
of the university, which he had obeyed;
but not to his theological status, as a min-
ister of Christ,—-that he was nominated by
his presbytery as their commissioner, and
he was determined not to betray it. That
the business of the court might not be in-
terrupted, however, Melville judged it pru-
dent to retire; but not until he had de-
livered his sentiments freely upon the
topics regarding the church, which were
to occupy the attention of the Assembly.
The king’s commands were, that he should
not come forth from his lodgings ; but this
would not do, as his brethren found him
out there, and therefore the royal mandate
was given, that he should leave Dundee
without delay. By this it was evident,
that the poor imbecile monarch durst not
proceed with his business so long as the
magnanimous reformer was within reach,
although he had a packed assembly of



Q—Qi " i‘ ii Ii 1 'y it'-
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.... ‘ . ‘Ml
cringing commissioners, and “a trained
band of voters from the extremities of tht
north.” The king’s measure, which he
wanted to carry at this Assembly, was,
“ that the ministry, as the third state of the
realm, should, in the name of the church.
have a vote in parliament.” This was
stoutly opposed by the reformers, who
plainly foresaw that it was but a prelude
to the introduction of episcopacy. It was
therefore put off, fi'om want of unanimity,
until the sentiments of the different church
courts should be ascertained, after which
a deputation from these bodies, along with
the professors of theology, were to hold a
conference in presence of his majesty, on
the points that had been left unsettled.
At these preparatory meetings Melville
gave sedulous attendance. So dissatisfied
was the king with the meeting held at
Falkland after these conferences, that the
General Assembly summoned to meet at
Aberdeen was put off sine die. Melville
could neither be deterred by threats, nor
allured by fair premises from watching this
momentous question; and accordingly w
find him again at a meeting in HelyrocrL
house, in November 1599, telling the king
in the
debate upon the lawfulness of clergy‘




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ANDREW MELVILLE.

men to sit in parliament, to beware that he
did not set up those who would cast him or
his successors down. Upon the second
tepid, viz., the duration of the office, a very
keen and animated debate was kept up;
in course of which it was said, says Dr
M‘Crie—“ that his majesty and the parlia-
ment would not admit the voters otherwise
than for life.” “ Then,” replied Melville,
“the loss will be small I”——“ Ch but I” it
was answered, “ministers will then have
to lie in contempt and poverty.” “ It was
their Master’s case before them,” answered
our reformer,--“ better poverty with sin-
cerity, than promotion with corruption!”
“ Others will then be promoted to the
place,” retorted the fiiends of the measure,
" who will oppress and ruin the church, for
the king will not want his third estate!”
“ Then let Christ, the King of the church,
avenge her wrongs, as he has done before I”
—The third measure, “ the denomination
of the voter in parliament,” gave rise to a
long and interesting debate, and afforded
Melville an opportunity of keen and cutting
satire, which with his usual tact he handled
with great dexterity. It was contended by
James and his party, that nothing inferior
to the dignity of bishop would satisfy.
“ Very well,” said Melville, “ I grant the
name of bishop to be scriptural, certainly;
but I would propose to prefix to it, an
epithet which is scriptural also, and in this
I am supported by the apostle Peter,——I
would christen them busy-bishops, because
they interfere with matters totally uncon-
nected with their office as ministers of
Christ l”——Besuming his gravity, however,
he said that the church of Scotland had
decided, that no idea of superiority was
attached to the word bishop in the New
Testament; but that it was applied indis-
criminately to all preaching presbyters, and
therefore be conceived that the title was
only calculated to flatter the vanity of
ambitious men, whose tastes savoured more

255
of the things of this world, than of the
things that be of God.
All eyes were now bent upon the Gen-
eral Assembly that was to meet at Mon-
trose, on the 28th of March, 1600 ; which
Row says was “notified only by sound of
trumpet at the cross of Edinburgh, and
other needful places, whereat many good
Christians wondered, seeing there never
was the like before.” Melville was re
turned by the presbytery of St Andrews
as one of their commissioners; and he
hastened to Montrose at the time appointed;
but no sooner was it known that he had
arrived, than a royal mandate was issued,
commanding his immediate appearance.
Nothing intimidated, he obeyed the sum-
mons; but scarcely had he been intro-
duced, when James, in an imperious
tone, demanded why he was so troublesome,
knowing that against him there was a
positive prohibition. Melville answered that
he had been deputed by his presbytery,
and their unanimous voice he durst not
disobey, under pain of displeasing one much
higher, and of far greater dignity than
any earthly sovereign. His fortitude rose
with the crisis. The kings rage served
only to nerve him the more ;—and, before
leaving the royal presence, he quite coolly
lifted up his hand to his throat, and said,
“ Sire, if it is this you want, you shall haveit
before I betray the cause of Christ !”—He
was refused a seat in the Assembly, how-
ever; but he remained in the town during
the sitting, and was of great service by his
advice in keeping his brethren to their
duty. The result of this meeting is well
known. Calderwood mentions that Mel‘
ville was present at an Assembly which
met at Burntisland in May 1601, and that
he voted against the translation of the
ministers of Edinburgh. Not-hing further
seems to be recorded of him at that meet-
ing; but no sooner was the Assembly
dissolved, than a story was get up by the


256
SCOTS WORTHIES.

_

church commissioners, that the king of
Spain was about to attempt another descent
upon Britain, and calling upon all ministers
to reuse their parishes to a sense of the
country’s danger, and to unite, heart and
hand, to repel the common foe. There
can be no doubt that this fama was propa—
gated, solely with a view to divert the at-
tention of the reformers from the real
danger with which they were threatened;
and Melville, foreseeing this, took every
opportunity of warning all with whom he
was connected, and over whom he had any
influence, of what he conceived to be the
true state of the matter. This having been
told to the king, he immediately came to
St Andrews; and there, without even the
sanction of his privy council, issued the
following precept, which we give in the
words of Calderwood.
“ At St Andrews, the eleventh day of
the month of July, in the year of our Lord,
1602,—The king’s Majesty, for certain
causes and considerations moving his High-
ness, ordains a macer or other officer of
arms, to pass and in his name and authority
command and charge Mr Andrew Melville,
principal of the new college of St Andrews,
to remain and contain himself in ward,
within the precincts of the said college, and
in no wise to resort or repair without the
said precincts while he be lawfully and
arderly relieved, and freed by his Majesty,
under the pain of rebellion and putting of
him to the horn—with certification to him,
if he fail and do in the contrary, that he
shall be incontinent thereafter denounced
rebel and put to the horn, and all his
moveables goods escheat to his Highness’
.156, for his contemption.
“ Thomas Fenteun, Messenger.”
Elizabeth, queen of England, having
died about this time, James, before his
departure to that kingdom, in a speech
which he delivered in the High Church of
Edinburgh, declared that he had no inten-


tion of making any further alteration in
the government of the church; and,
through the intercession of the queen,
Melville had obtained permission to go
anywhere six miles around St Andrews.
But even the king’s most solemn assever-
ations were not to be regarded, and this
the ministers of Scotland well knew. He
had set his heart upon uniting the twr
kingdoms, and therefore it became neces-
sary to watch that he did not insist upon
uniformity of ecclesiastical worship and
government, as well as political jurisdiction.
To the latter Melville yielded his decided
approbation; but he, with an overwhelm-
ing majority of his brethren, maintained
that they would part with their lives, rather
than renounce any of the articles of their
religion. Instructions to this effect were
given to the commissioners to lay before
parliament, and to demand that formei
laws made for the security of the church
should be ratified, and that no alteration
or innovation, not founded on the word of
God, as already sanctioned by law, solemn
promises, and oaths, should have any placr
in the articles of Union.
It will be remembered, that in the year
1592, when Presbytery received the civil
sanction, it was then secured to the church,
that the General Assembly should meet
at least once a year; but James had re-
peatedly set this at nought; and to appli-
cations now made to him for liberty to
meet, he said that it was neither necessary
nor seasonable. Melville took an active
part in urging on the different synods to
assert their rights, by petitioning his
majesty to allow the Assembly to meet for
the despatch of important business; and
for this he was represented to James as
being the cause of all the anxiety that was
agitating the country. Orders were im~
mediately sent from London to put him
in prison; but this was not enforced, pro—
.bably owing to the spirit which was then
_—_'-
ANDREW MELVILLE. 9e7
y




abroad in the nation. Despite of all the
solicitations that had been used, however,
the Assembly that should have met in 1605
was again prorogued sine die; but before
this was made public, several presbyteries
had made choice of their representatives,
and therefore it was judged expedient, that
they should go to Aberdeen, and constitute;
but adjourn to some future day, without
proceeding to any business. This was
done accordingly; and, just after they had
broken up, ten other ministers came for-
ward, who, by their subscriptions, approved
of what their brethren had done. This
step, on the part of the church, was highly
resented by James._ No sooner was he
informed of what had taken place, than he
ordered the ministers who had met at
Aberdeen, to be summoned before the privy
council to answer for their conduct. F our-
teen of them having stood to their defence
were incarcerated in different prisons. It
is amusing to see how this unprincipled
monarch acted upon this occasion, in order
to put a plausible pretext upon his conduct;
and therefore we here give part of the letter
which he sent to Secretary Balmerino,
dated from “ Havering in the boure” the
19th of July, 1605. In the Assembly’s
letter to the privy council, James had
marked, with his own hand, such passages
as he thought would render the ministers
censurable, and bring them within the
compass of the law. The following one
chiefly attracts notice :——“ In the said lre
thereafter at this signe-;-, they wald mak
this thair apologie for thair proceeding,
‘that they suld not be the first oppenaris
of am: gap to the oppin breach and viola-
tioun of the lawis and statutis of this
realme ;’ willing the counsell to wey and
considder thairoff; as giff they wald mak
ane plane accusatioun of sum tyrannie
intendit be us to the prejudice of the
__—._'_ __VA
1
lawis of our kingdome, ane speich altogidder \
1 gave in a protest,2 containing forty-two
' K
smelling of treasoun and lese majestic."
When brought to trial, the whole of the
accused declined the jurisdiction of the
privy council; and therefore, after every
illegal measure that could be devised by
the council and crown off1cers,the prisoners
were found guilty of treason. Sentence
however was delayed, and the king would
neither listen to the voice of the nation
supplicating for pardon to the condemned,
nor would he impart to the council what
punishment he intended to inflict. At
length, after much painful uncertainty,
eight of them were banished to Orkney
and Shetland, and six to France. Melville
interested himself deeply in their fate ;
openly avowing his approval of their con-
duct, and helping forward petitions to
parliament in their favour. During their
trial at Linlithgow he was present to assist
them with his advice ; and after their con-
viction, he accompanied them to their place
of confinement.
Notwithstanding all that happened to
our reformer, the presbytery of St Andrews
nominated him their commissioner, to at-
tend a meeting of parliament which was
to be held at Perth, in August, 1606, with
instructions to watch over the interests of
the church, in conjunction with the deputies
from other presbyteries. The church was
now in imminent danger, and therefore,
knowing well what the king’s instructions
were, he and his brethren presented to the
Lords of Articles amemorial, craving, that,
whatever changes might be in contempla-
tion, the privileges of the presbyterian church
might be regarded, as these had been en-
acted by the General Assembly, and sanc-
tioned by the king’s most solemn concur-
rence. To this, answer was made by the
chancellor, that bishops would be restored
to the rank, dignity, and power, which was
attached to the office a hundred years ago
All that the ministers could do in this case
was to remonstrate; and, therefore, they


258
SCOTS WORTHIES.



signatures, of which Melville’s was the first v
upon the list, couched in the most respect-
ful language, but most decidedly hostile
to the measures proposed; and maintaining,
that to the last they would preserve inviolate
what had been given to the church by her
Divine Head. Reasons of protest were
drawn up by James Melville, with the as-
sistance of his uncle; but James could not
be swayed from his purpose. This was
the last appearance that Melville was per-
mitted to make in Scotland; for, in the
end of May, this same year, he was com-
manded by the king to appear at London,
on the 15th of September following, under
the pretence of conferring with him upon
the best method of settling the peace of

time for deliberation; and they were ac-
cordingly granted liberty till next day.
On entering the royal apartment, Melville
was not a little hurt at finding the room
crowded with English nobility, bishops,
and other subordinates of the episcopalian
church; and therefore the earl of Dunbar
cautioned him to be guarded in his speech
before such high and honourable strangers ;
‘but the ministers had made choice of
v
l
l
the church. Letters to the same effectI
were also sent to his nephew, and seven
other ministers, his majesty’s most formi-
dable opponents in Scotland. Melville, his 1
nephew, and other two ministers, sailed
from Anstruther, in Fife, on the 15th of
August; and, in a few days after they
arrived in London, they were joined by
the other four, who had made the journey
by land.
On being admitted into the royal pre-
sence, they were very graciously received,
and had the honour to kiss his majesty’s
hand. This first conference was managed
by the king with the most artful duplicity,
who introduced nothing into the conver-
sation that might have the most distant
tendency to excite alarm. At the second
conference, however, James threw off the
mask, and at once demanded an explicit
answer to the two following questions :—
lst. Did they approve of the late Assembly
held at Aberdeen, and of the conduct of
those who held it’? 2nd. What did they
consider to be the best mode of obtaining a
peaceable meeting of the General Assembly,
so as to restore a proper understanding and
harmony in the church ?——To these James
Melville, in name of the rest, requested

James Melville to be their speaker upor.
the occasion, in the hope that they woule
be saved from making speeches upon the
subject. This, however, would not satisfy
the king ; and he therefore told them that
every man must speak for himself. Begin-
ning with the bishops, James first wished
to know fi~om them, what was their opinion
concerning the pretended Assembly which
had met at Aberdeen. One and all of
them answered, that it was “daring and
illegal.” Upon which, turning to Melville.
the king thus addressed him——“ Well, Mr
Andrew, what is your opinion ; you have
heard how your brethren condemn that
convocation? Do you think that eight
or nine ministers, met without any warrant,
wanting the chief members, the moderator
and scribe, convening unmannerly without
a sermon, being also discharged by open
proclamation, can make an Assembly or
not '4” Undismayed either at the splen-
dour or dignity of the audience, Melville, in
a speech of great length, of which we can
give only a few brief extracts from Dr
M‘Crie, spoke thus :—
“ For myself, I have been for a long time
debarred from public meetings; but, since
it is your majesty’s pleasure, I shall en-
deavour to give satisfaction on the different
objections your majesty has stated. With
respect to the paucity of members, I pre-
sume there is no rule fixing the precise
number. In the days of our Lord’s humilia»
tion, two or three, met in his name, had
the assurance of his presence; and the



ANDREW MELVILLE.
259


promise will continue to the end of time.
An ordinary meeting of a court, established
by law, cannot be declared unlawful on
account of the smallness of the number
who may choose to attend. Besides, the
ministers who attended at Aberdeen were
sufficiently numerous for transacting all
the business they intended, which was only
to constitute the Assembly’ and prorogue
till a future day. As to their warrant, it
is founded on Scripture, your majesty’s laws,
and the commissions which they received
from their presbyteries. The presence of
the former moderator and clerk was not
essential to the validity of the Assembly,
which, in case these off1ce~bearers were
either necessarily or wilfully absent, might
choose others in their room according to
reason and the practice of the church.
With regard to no sermon having been
preached, your majesty has been misin-
formed; because one of the ministers of
Aberdeen delivered a discourse at the
opening of the meeting. And, as to the
alleged discharge of the Assembly on the
day before it met” (turning and addressing
himself to Lauriston’x‘ the king’s commis-
sioner, who was present, he said), “ I charge
you, in the name of the church of Scotland,
as you shall answer before the great God
at the appearance of Jesus Christ to judge
the quick and the dead, to testify the truth,
and tell whether any such discharge was
given or not !” (Lauriston remained silent,
and the king desired Melville to go on and
state his reasons for not condemning the
conduct of the ministers.) “ May it please
your majesty, I am here but as a private
individual, come upon your majesty’s letter,
" Lauriston gave out that he had discharged the
Assembly, by open proclamation at the market-
cross of Aberdeen, on the day before it met ; but
no person heard this, and it was universally believed
thatheantedated his proclamation, to conciliate the
king and the court ministers, who were offended at
him for the countenance which he had given to the
meeting—Dr M‘ Crie.

without any commission from the church
of Scotland; and as no person has made
me a judge, I cannot take upon me to con-
demn them. Your majesty has, by your
proclamation at Hampton court” (here
Melville produced the proclamation,) “ re-
mitted their trial to a General Assembly,
expecting there reparation of wrongs, if any
have been done. I cannot prejudge the
church and Assembly of my vote, which
if I give now, I shall be sure to have my
mouth shut then, as I and others of my
brethren have found before. Besides, the
case is already prejudged by your majesty’s
council; whether rightly or not, I remit to
God, before whom one day they must ap-
pear and answer for that sentence; and
therefore, I am of opinion that your
majesty would not much relish it, if I
should now contradict your majesty’s coun-
cil and their proceedings. How then can
I condemn my brethren, who have not yet
been put upon their trial, having neither
heard your majesty’s accusation, nor their
defence “.3”
At the close of this speech, his nephew
handed to the king a petition from the
condemned ministers, upon which his
majesty said, “ I am glad to see this!” lt
was evident that James felt uneasy at
Melville’s oration; and the more so,because
he had been supported by every one of his
brethren, in everything he had advanced.
But Melville was quite master of himself.
In a discussion which at the same time took
place between the lord advocate of Scotland,
and one of the ministers, upon the trial of
the Scottish clergy for treason, Melville
caught some expressions uttered by tllt
former, that he could not refrain from
answering; and, falling upon his knees be-
fore his majesty, begged to be heard again,
, Permission having been granted, he now
threw off all restraint, and in a strain of
bold, impassioned eloquence, which aston-
ished the audience, fearlessly vindicated his


260
SCOTS WORTHIES.




brethren in all that they had done. Nor
did the lord advocate escape without a
severe castigation. “ I charge you, Sir,”
said Melville sternly, “ with having employed
all your craft and eloquence to convict the
unoffending servants of Christ. The ac-
cuser of the brethren could not have done
more against the saints of God, than you
did against these men at Linlithgow; and,
not satisfied with the part you then and
there acted, you take upon you still to show
yourself “0 awrnyogog 'rwv A527\¢wv”—-* i. 6.
“ the accuser of "the brethren.”
Instead of pacifying the enraged monarch,
as might have been expected, or swaying
his mind to more pacific measures, the
unanimous expression of sentiment by
Melville and his brethren served only to
determine the king to more harsh and
unprincely conduct; and therefore before
the ministers had time to reach their lodg-
ings, they were overtaken by one of the
royal secretaries, who read to them a charge
not to appear in the presence of either king,
queen, or prince, without special liberty.
This did not affect them much; but on the
28th September, they were again sent for
to meet the Scottish council, in presence of “
the earl of Dunbar and the lord advocate.
Melville was the last of being admitted.
With his wonted boldness he told these
noblemen, that they were a disgrace to
their country and their forefathers, who
scrupled not to hazard life and fortune in
defence of the gospel; whereas they, their
descendants, were leaguing together for
its overthrow. Each of the ministers,
2“ At this expression, the king, turning to the
archbishop of Canterbury, exclaimed, “ What's
that he said ? I think he calls him Antichrist. Nay,
by G-- ; it is the Devil's name in the Revelation
if their well-beloved John.” Then rising hastily,
are said, “God be with you, Sirs !”--But, recol-
lecting himself, he turned to the ministers, and
asked what advice they had to give him for paci-
fying the church; to which they all, with one voice,
replied. A free General Assembly !---Dr M‘ Crie. .




before his dismissal, received in writing
the following questions, which he was
desired to answerz—lst. Have you not
transgressed your duty by praying for your
condemned brethren, and are you willing
to ask his Majesty’s pardon for your offence ?
2nd. Do. you acknowledge that his majesty,
in virtue of his royal prerogative, has full
power to convocate, prorogue, and dismiss,
all ecclesiastical assemblies within his
dominions? 3rd. Has the king a lawful
right, by his royal authority, to call before
him and his council, all persons, ecclesiasti-
cal and civil, for whatsoever faults; and
are all subjects bound to appear, answer,
and obey, in the premises? To these, an-
swers were given in,~——guarded, but explicit;
without the most distant tendency to devi-
ate, in the least, from the principles they
had hitherto maintained. Along with
these they also tendered their advice as to
the best method of allaying the disturbances,
and securing the tranquillity of the church,
in a paper to which all their names were
adhibited. Melville and his brethren, think-
ing all was now over, were anxious to re—
turn home ; but nothing was farther from
James’ intention. Every method was tried
to entrap them; their conduct was watched
upon all occasions; they were compelled
to listen to harangues from the English
bishops ; they were marched to and
from church like penitentiaries, day after
day, without any prospect of release; and
on the 28th of the same month, they were
by a message from the king ordered to
attend in the royal chapel, it being the
feast of St Michael. ‘ Several foreigners
of distinction were present; and all im-
aginable pomp suited to the day was ex-
hibited, in order to attract the attention
of the reformers. Melville’s eye was
particularly drawn to the altar, on which
were two books, shut; two empty chalices,
and two candlesticks with candles unlighted.
On this dumb- dark, and empty display, he




ANDREW MELVILLE.
261




,.___
composed the following epigram, after he
returned to his lodgings :—
Cur stant clausi Anglis libri duo regia in are,
Lumina cmca duo, pollubra sicca duo P
Num sensum cultumque Dei tenet Anglia clausum,
Lumine caeca suo, sorde sepulta sua?
Romano an ritu dum regalem instruit aram,
Purpuream pingit religiosa lupam?
As these verses were afterwards made
the subject of serious accusation against
Melville, we hope it will not be judged
improper for having introduced them into
our narrative; and therefore we shall give
the following old translation, which is
perfectly accurate, copied verbatim from
Dr M‘Crie :—
Why stand there on the Royal Altar hie
Two closed books, blind lights, two basins drie P
Doth England hold God’s mind and worship closs,
Blind of her sight, and buried in her dross?
Doth she, with Chapel put in Romish dress,
The purple whore religiously express ?
These verses were not long in being
shown to the king; and it was supposed
to have been done by one of the spies, who
were, under various pretences, in the con-
stant habit of frequenting the ministers’
lodgings; the result of which was, that
Melville was summoned to attend a meet-
ing of the English privy council at White-
hall, on the 30th of November. A copy
of the verses having been shown to him,
he acknowledged the composition to be
his own ; and said that he had done it out
of pity and indignation, at seeing a church,
calling itself reformed, so far lost to true
religion, and the pure light of the gospel,
as to introduce such gross and base idolatry.
How it had come to his majesty’s hand he
knew not; but of this he was certain, that
he had not given a copy to any one ; but
his mind was quite at ease upon the sub-
ject, however, as he intended to have em-
braced the earliest opportunity of showing
them to his majesty himself. He said, at
the same time, that he was not conscious

of any crime in having penned these verses;
but the archbishop of Canterbury declared
that having spoken in such terms of the
church of England was a high misdemea-
nor, and brought the writer fairly within
the laws of treason. Melville maintained
that he had never been a traitor, and told
the archbishop to his face, that he con-
sidered him the capital enemy of all the
reformed churches in Europe ; and as such
he professed himself to be his enemy to the
last drop of blood in his body; and that he
was sorry that such a person should be so
near his majesty, and have a seat in his
councils. One of the Scottish noblemen-—
fearing that Melville was going too far,
desired him to remember in whose presence
he was, and to whom he was speaking—-re-
ceived from him the following sharp rebuke;
“I remember very well,” my lord, “ and
am sorry that your lordship, by sitting here,
and countenancing such proceedings against
me, should furnish a precedent which may
yet be used against yourself and your pos-
terity.” The king had not thought it
proper to be present upon this occasion,
but the court had instructions how to act;
and Melville was therefore committed to
the custody of the dean of St Paul’s, to
remain a close prisoner in his house, with-
out liberty either to make or receive visits,
until the 9th of March in the following year,
when he was ordered to remove to the
house of the bishop of “linchester.
The plot against Melville was deeply
laid—they had got into their hands the
man of whom they were most afi'aid; and
therefore it was determined, contrary to all
justice, and the law of nations, that he
should never revisit his native country.
Before, however, placing himself under the
superintendence of his new overseer, he
paid a visit to his brethren, where he re-
mained without molestation for a few weeks,
until the 26th of April, when he received
a message from the bishop, requesting his



262
SCOTS WORTHIES.




presence at Whitehall. Before taking
leave of his brethren, his nephew said to
him,—“ They know you will speak your
mind freely, and therefore they will be all
on the watch to find something farther
against you, with a view to keep you longer
from returning to Scotland ;”——to which
the uncle replied,——“If God have any
business for me to do in Scotland, he will
carry me thither; and, if not, it is my de-
sire to glorify him wherever I am; but I
nave still something to say,—-let them
make of me what they will, I will never
pass in silence the abominable superstitions
and errors which they seek to introduce,
in order to shut out the pure and blessed
light of the gospel.” Before he was ready
to depart, two messages arrived, informing
him that the council were waiting for him.
Having heard this with perfect composure,
he commended himself and his brethren to
God, in a short but fervent prayer, and
withdrew. The epigram being the only
plausible charge which the council had
against him, recourse was had to this, in
order, if possible, to convict him of treason.
Upon this occasion, the king had secreted
himself in an adjoining room, that he
might overhear what was said without being

seen; and probably thinking that Melville ‘
would be less guarded in his speech, and
might thereby be the more easily caught.
But this had no effect,—the face of majesty
l
every effort unavailing, and seeing no other
way in which they could be revenged, he
was committed prisoner to the Tower.
Upon hearing his sentence, he magnani-
mously cried out: “ To this comes England’s
boasted pride at last !—very lately you put
a priest to death, and to-morrow you would
do the same to a minister !”* Having said
so, he appealed to the duke of Lennox,
and the earl of Mar, and told them he was
a true Scotsman, and to take care that it
did not end with them, as it began with
himself. This expression enraged the king
more than anything that he had spoken;
wherefore he gave orders that he
should be immediately conveyed to the
Tower, by water, without any of his fiiends
being permitted to see him. Aware that
he could never have regained his liberty
without sacrificing his principles, he had
resolved to speak out his mind freely, and
rather than accept it upon any other terms,
than fi'ee unfettered restraint in the ex~
ercise of his duty as a public teacher, and
minister of Christ, he preferred an hon~
ourable captivity. The fate of Melville
cast a gloom over the hope of release for
his brethren; and so it turned out,—his
nephew was commanded to leave London
within six days, and to betake himself to
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, under heavy pen»
alties if he should be afterwards found
above ten miles distant from that place.
would have laid him under no restraint. The rest of the ministers Were sent to
Like his great precursor, “ he feared not the
face of man,” when duty to his God required
him to speak out. Melville spared neither
king, lords, nor bishops; but fearlessly re-
proved them all. In vain did they attempt
to bring out an apology, or extort a retrac-
tation. He adhered resolutely to all that
he had either written or spoken ; and made
such an open exposure of the delinquencies
of both king and court, that they wished I
in their hearts they had never brought him
from St Andrews. Finding, therefore,

different parts of Scotland, and not only
prohibited from preaching, but also from
attending upon church courts; and to be
it‘ In the end of 1607, a minister in London was
reprimanded for some freedom which he had taken
from the pulpit, with the estate of bishops. Having
afterwards given out some copies of his sermon, he
I was publicly whipped, made to stand four hours in
the pillory, and had one of his ears cut off. Two
days after, he was again brought out, stood other
four hours in the pillory, lost his remaining ear,
and was condemned to perpetual banishment—D1-
M‘ Crie.


ANDREW MELVILLE.





l
I
ready to produce testimonials of good
behaviour from the bishops, when required,
or to return to London within a stipulated
time.
It would be unfeeling to close this part
of our narrative, without casting a retro-
spective glance at the final farewell of these
eminent and affectionate friends, who were
now to be separated for ever in this world.
Melville had been delivered over to the
governor of the Tower, with positive orders
that no one should be admitted into his
presence; but, through the kindness of one
of the keepers, his nephew had obtained
permission to converse, for a short time
every day, with his uncle, outside the prison,
while the former continued in London.
F orgetful of his own sentence, and tarrying
for a fortnight in the city beyond the period
prescribed for his departure, he thought
only how he might alleviate his uncle’s
sufferings; but, all that he could obtain
was, that his servant was allowed to in-
carcerate himself along with his master.
Melville had been to him a father, a
teacher, and a friend; and he was repaid
with the affection of a dutiful son, the
gratitude of a much attached disciple, and
the fidelity of one who would have died to
save his benefactor. Old age was now
stealing apace upon his uncle, and his
tender heart was ready to rend at the
thought of leaving him in captivity and
poverty. But he could do no more. Having
therefore conveyed to his uncle all the
money he could spare, he went on board a
vessel bound for Newcastle, at the foot of
the Tower stairs, on the 2nd of July,
1607. When sailing down the river, he re-
mained on deck as long as his eyes could
catch a glimpse of his uncle’s prison; and,
with eyes suffused with tears, he breathed
out prayers for him whom he so ardently ,
and enthusiasticallyv loved. and whose face
he was never again to behold on earth.
1 Scarcely had Melville slept in his new.


apartment, until the king wrote to St
Andrews, declaring that the privy council
had found the Reformer guilty of a high
trespass, and as he would not be allowed
to return to the university, they might
proceed to fill up the vacancy. To add to
the miseries of his confinement, a pretence
was soon found for removing his servant
from him, and no person was allowed to
see him, except the one who carried him
his food. He was denied the use of writ-
ing materials; but, notwithstanding the
dismal loneliness of his situation, his spirit
remained unsubdued, and he amused himself
by writing verses upon the walls of his cell,
with the tongue of his shoe-buckle. In
this state he lingered out ten months. In
the course of the following year, however,
through the interest of Sir James Sempell
of Belltrees, he was removed to a more
comfortable apartment, where his friends
were occasionally admitted to visit him,
and where he was indulged with paper,
ink, and pens. In the month of May he
wrote to his nephew, that notwithstanding
the severity of the previous winter, his
health was not in the least impaired, and
that he felt comparatively cheerful in the
cause for which he was suffering—well
in body and soul—prepared for whatever
might be the event, either to remain where
he was, to return home, or to go into exile.
During his confinement he was visited by
several persons of distinguished reputation,
with whom he eonversed with the most
apparent cheerfulness and affability, show-
ing to those of them who were capable of
judging, a Latin paraphrase of the psalms
of David, with which he occupied his hours
In the month of November, 1610, the Duke
de Bouillon applied to James for Melville’s
release, and for liberty to send him to Sedan

in France; but this negotiation was soon _'
lTn‘td-QC‘I] off by the queen regent of that
countrv. who. having heard that Melville
was of a turbulent disposition, judged it

264
SCOTS WORTHIES.


farewell in the Lord.

_
unsafe to admit a man of such habits within
her dominions. James himself had been the
propagator of these calumnies, in order to
save his own reputation abroad; but the
truth having come out at length, the duke
was more fortunate in February, 1611,
having procured his final release from the
place of his captivity. Pecuniary embar-
rassments, however, prevented him, in the
mean time, from accepting the duke’s
invitation to go to Sedan, and his nephew
was unable to assist him. Although his
health had held out well during his con-
finement, yet upon being set at liberty it
began to give way, and he at last caught a
fever, which confined him for a short time.
Powerful influence was now exerted by
many of his friends, that he might be
allowed to return to his native country;
but the terms dictated by the king were
such as, when rehearsed to Melville, he
would by no means accept. Having through
the liberality of some of his friends in Scot-
land been favoured with a sum of money,
sufficient to enable him to make a respec-
table appearance in France, and his health
being considerably recruited, he set sail
for that country, after hafing been four
years confined a prisoner in the Tower.
The state of his mind at that time will
be best known from himself, and therefore
we hope it is unnecessary to apologize for
the following letter, which we extract from
Dr M‘Crie, written to his nephew, immedi-
ately before he embarked :—
“ My dear son, my dear James, farewell,
I must now go to
other climes. Such is the pleasure of my
divine and heavenly Father, and I regard
it as a fruit of his paternal love towards me.
Why should I not, when he has recovered
me from a sudden and heavy distemper,
and animates me to the journey by so many
tokens of his favour? New at length I
feel the truth of the presage which I have
frequently pronounced—that it behoved me



to confess Christ on a larger theatre; which,
so far as it may yet be unfulfilled, shall soon.
I augur, receive a complete verification.
In the mean time I retain you in my heart,
nor shall anything in this life be dearer to
me, after God, than you. To day I set
out on my journey under the auspices of
Heaven,——may the God of mercy give it
a prosperous issue. Join with me in sup~
plicating that it may turn out for his glory
and the profit of his church. Although I
have no uneasiness about my library, yet I
must request you to charge those who are
intrusted with its keeping, to be careful of
it, both for my sake, and for the sake of the
church to which I have dedicated myself
and all my property. Who knows but we
may yet meet again to give thanks publicly
to God for all his benefits to us? Why
should we not cherish the hope of better
days; seeing the fraud and pride of our
enemies have brought us to a condition
which appears to prognosticate the ruin of
the lately reared fabric? Our three pre_
tended bishops affirm that they urged, and
on their knees supplicated his Majesty to
restore me to my native country: but you
know the disposition of the men, and what
was the drift of their request. The vessel
is under weigh, and I am called on board.
My Salutations to all friends. The grace
of God be with you always. From the
Tower of London,just embarking, the 19th
of April, 1611,
“ Yours as his own in the Lord,
“ ANDREW MELVILLE.”
Melville, on arriving in France, paid a
short visit to Rouen and Paris, and im-
mediately after hastened off to Sedan, where
he was admitted as joint professor in theo-
logy with Daniel Tilenus,--the latter teach-
ing the system, and the former prelecting on
the Scriptures. In a letter to his nephew
he thus expresses himself in the language
of Dr M‘Crie.——“ The Lord, on whom, and
not on the pleasures or wishes of men, I


l
ANDREW
265
MELVILLE.


depend wholly, has his own times. I keep
all my friends in my eye; I carry them in
my bosom; I commend them to the God
of mercy in my daily prayers. What comes
to my hand I do: I fill up my station to
the best of my ability. My conversation
is in heaven. I neither importune nor
deprecate the day of my death—I aspire
after things divine,——I maintain my post.
About human things I give myself little
trouble. In fine, I live to God and the
church. I do not sink under adversity,--
I reserve myself for better days. My mind
is prepared by the grace of God; and, strong
in the Lord, for whose sake I am not
afraid to meet death in that new and living
way which he hath consecrated, and which
leads to heaven alike from every quarter
of the globe.”
The report of his nephew’s death, which
reached him in April, 1614, gave a power-
ful shock to his feelings ; and this is not to
be wondered at; for, like Saul and Jonathan,
they had been “ lovely in their lives.” This
excellent man, this paragon of humility,
and gentleness, and faith, and good works,
when asked upon his death-bed, if he had
a wish to be restored to health, replied,
“ No! not for twenty worlds.” The first
expression that escaped Melville when the
melancholy tidings reached him was, “ The
Lord hath taken to himself the faithful
brother, my dearly beloved son. I fear
melancholy to have abridged his days.
Now he is out of all doubt and trouble,
enjoying the fruits of his sufferings here:
God forgive the instruments of his with-
holding from his flock.” Soon after this,
the infirmities of age began to distress him ;
but amidst all his sufferings he kept up his
natural cheerfulness of mind. In 1612,
we find him writing in the following strain,“f
Am I not threescore and eight years old,—
unto the which age none of my fourteen
* To Mr Robert Durie, minister of Anstruther.
brethren came? And yet, I thank God,
I eat, I drink, I sleep, as well as I did these
thirty years bygone, and better than when
I was younger,—in the very flower of
youth. Only the gravel now and then
seasons my mirth with some little pain,
which I have felt only since the beginning
of March, last year, a month before my
deliverance from prison. I feel, thank God,
no abatement of alacrity and ardour of
mind for the propagation of the truth.
Neither use I spectacles now more than
ever—yea, I use none at all, nor ever did;
and I see now the smallest Hebrew without
points, and the smallest characters. Why,
may I not live to see a change for the better,
when the prince shall be informed truly by



honest men, or God open his eyes and move
his heart to see the pride of stately pre-
lates !” In the following year, in a letter
to the same correspondent, he says—“ My
heart is a Scotch heart, and as good or
better nor ever it was, both toward God
and man. The Lord onlybe praised thereof,
to whom belongs all glory. \Vho can tell
when out of this confusion it may please
him to draw out some good order, and to
the comfort of his children and relief of his
servants ?—Courage, courage, brother ! we
shall judge angels ; how much more
mortals!” In the year 1616, to the same
person he writes, “ Let the bishops be
moles ; we shall lay our treasures in heaven,
where they shall be safe. My colic, gravel,
and gout, are messengers to spoil my
patience, but to exercise my faith. My
health is better than I would look for at
this age,-—praised be the true Mediator, to
whose glory may it serve and to the benefit
of his church '”
To his dying hour Melville felt a deep
interest in the affairs of the church of Scot-
He had heard of the five articles

land.
of Perth, which for the sake of some of '
our readers we shall here name,—kneeling

when receiving the sacrament—the observ-



2 L
266
SCOTS WORTHIES.





ance of holidays—confirmation by bishops
before being first admitted to communion—
private baptism—and private communicat-
ing—and he said he could not have believed
that the government would have carried
matters to such extremity. He was greatly
distressed for the church. “ Let us not
fear the wiles of her enemies,” he said;
“ but turn our eyes to Him who governs
and over-rules all things for the good of
those who love him. He that shall come
will come, and will cleanse his floor, and
consume the chaff and rubbish with the
fire of his wrath. Let us reserve ourselves
for better times, and He who is at once our
way, and our guide, and the beginning and
end of our course, will bring all things to
a happy termination. I had rather remain
the captive of a legitimate sovereign, than
become the servant of the legitimate lords.
I esteem it more honourable to wear the
chains of a lawful king, than the insignia
of unlawful prelates. I am filled with
grief and indignation at the present deplor-
able state of affairs, and at the hard fate of
good men, who cannot obtain corporal
liberty without submitting to a spiritual
bondage.” His constitution began to give
way in 1620, and gradually were down that
frame, which had been “ in perils oft, in
bonds and in imprisonment” for the cause
of Christ and his church. Little more is
known of him from this period till the
time of his death, which took place at
Sedan, in the course of the year 1622.
The whole tenor of his life, however, con-
tradicts the assertion of a certain writer,
that he became unconcerned about the
interests of the church of Scotland before
his death—as a refutation of which, we
might adduce the testimony of Robert
Boyd of Trochrig, at that time principal
of the university of Edinburgh ; but, as we
shall have occasion to notice this in our
account of that eminent divine, we shall
content ourselves with translating from

“ Simson’s Annals,” the following, which,
from its brevity, point, and originality, is
not unworthy of notice. “ Andrew Melville
was a man of the greatest piety, of singu-
lar zeal (the zeal of God’s house ate him
up), the foremost—nay he stood alone-
for his acumen in all languages and sciences.
He introduced Athens and Jerusalem
(Greek and Hebrew,) into Scotland—he
was an enemy to pseudo-episcopacy and
popery, ever upon the alert—throughout
life he continued in a state of celibacy, and
strict chastity. By warrant of the king he
was cast into the Tower, where he remained
till the Duke of Bouillon took him to
France. In that country he was a valiant
wrestler for the truth, until the day of his
death, in 1622 :—an octogenarian.”—His
exact age, however, was seventy-seven.
In the beginning of our memoir we have
dwelt at so great a length upon his intel-
lectual endowments, as to render it alto-
gether superfluous to say much more upon
this head, than that even at the time of his
death, he had few equals, and certainly no
superiors. To Latin poetry he was pecu-
liarly attached, being a very common
amusement among scholars in the age
in which he lived. His style was pure,
chaste, flowing, and elegant; but when he
chose to dip his pen in gall, it was
master satire,—keen, pointed, and effective
In this, however, he indulged only against
episcopal hierarchy and antichristian
popery. His versification of many of the
psalms of David is but little inferior to
that of his great prototype, and his para-
phrase on the song of Moses will be
admired, so long as the beauties of the
language in which it is written are studied
and appreciated. His panegyric on the
two Scaligers and his preceptor Buchanan
will do him honour while time endures.
Of his natural temper, the attentive reader
must have come to the conclusion, that it
was lofty, ardent, and independent; far



ANDREW MELVILLE.
267



removed from the fear of threat or suffering;
but at the same time candid, forgiving,
open, generous, and above suspicion. Of
dissimulation he knew nothing. Hypocrisy
formed no part of his character; and the
despicable art of cringing had no place in
his heart.
a Scottish Reformer, a public minister,
a saint, a man of God, that we have here
chiefly to do. Others of his contempo-
raries were perhaps nearly as unflinching
as he, in their opposition to the introduc-
tion of episcopacy; but to him certainly
appertains the merit of being the first to
denounce the scheme; viewing it as he did
at first in its remote bearings, he threw
down the gauntlet even before majesty,
who had the foolhardiness to take it up,
and thereby to render himself the scorn,
and contempt, and pity, not only of the age
in which he lived ; but even to hand down
his name to posterity for universal execra-
tion. Whether James or Melville had the
mastery it will not be difficult to decide.
The monarch could deprive him of office,
and debar him from his presence ; but did
he ever deter him from meeting with his
brethren, and helping on the great cause
by his example and advice ?——he could
shut him up in a dungeon, and keep at a
distance from him the sweets of social con-
versation, and the apparatus for conveying
his meditations to those who were without ;
but did he thereby fetter his genius ?——the i
l
i
1

But, it is with his character as ‘
very walls of his cell afforded him ample
space for his effusions, written with a style
' sharp as the point of a diamond—he could
drive him into exile, far from his church,
and his country; but could he persuade
him to restrain prayer before God, or pre-
vent him from pouring forth his supplica-
tions for the afflicted, persecuted, church of
Scotland? Never ;-—no sufferings could
force him to retract his opposition,—
no favours induce him even to smile appro-
bation. As a preacher of God’s word, he
was talented in a very high degree ; zealous,
untiring, instant in season and out of
season, and eminently successful ; and as a
saint of God, he was a living epistle of the
power of religion on the heart. Sound in
faith and pure in morals, he recommended
the gospel in his life and conversation—he
fought the good fight; and, as a shock of
corn cometh in in its season, so he bade
adieu to this mortal life, ripe for everlasting
glory. If John Knox rid Scotland of the
errors and superstitions of popery,-—Andrew
Melville contributed materially, by his
fortitude, example, and counsel, to resist
even to the death, the propagation of a
form of worship, uncongenial to the Scottish
character; and therefore his name deserves
to be handed down to latest generations,
as an eminent scholar, a sound presbyterian,
a faithful minister, and a distinguished
servant of God.



268
SCOTS WORTHIES.



WILLIAM ROW.

WILLIAM ROW was a son of John Row,
minister at Perth. His father. John Row,
had gone abroad in early youth, and the
fame of his talents and learning having
reached the Vatican, he was, in 1559.
selected by the pope as an emissary to
watch over the dawning reformation in
Scotland. He, however, shortly after his
return to his native country, embraced the
principles of the reformed religion, and
advocated them with zeal and ability. He
was in 1560 appointed minister of Perth,
and from that time had considerable in-
fluence in the councils of the reformed
clergy,—sharing the fi‘iendship of Knox
and other distinguished men of that age.
His son William, the subject of this me-
moir, enjoyed a very liberal education
under his own eye. The day of his birth
is not recorded; but there is reason to
believe, that it was in the year 1563.
Some say his first and only appointment
was to the parish of Forgandenny, in the
presbytery of Perth. According to others,
he was settled minister at Strathmiglo, in
Fife, about the year 1600, and continued
there for several years. His life, though
short, is peculiarly interesting.
He was one of those ministers who
refused to give public thanks for the king’s
deliverance from his danger in Gowrie’s
conspiracy, until the truth of that plot
should be made to appear. This refusal
brought upon him the king’s displeasure,
and he was summoned to appear before

the king and council at Stirling soon after.
On the day appointed for his compearance,
two noblemen were sent, the one before
the other, to meet him on the road, and,
under pretence of friendship, to inform him
that the council had a design upon his
life, that so he might be prevailed on to
decline appearing. The first met him near
his own house, the second a few miles
from Stirling ; but Row told them that he
would not, by disobedience to the summons,
make himself justly liable to the pains of
law; and proceeded to Stirling to the
amazement of the king and his court.
When challenged for disbelieving the truth
of that conspiracy, he told them, as one
reason of his hesitation, that one Hender-
son, who was said to have confessed that
Gowrie hired him to kill the king, and to
have been found armed in his majesty’s
chamber for that purpose, was not only
suffered to live, but rewarded: “ Whereas,”
said he, “if I had seen the king’s life in
hazard, and not ventured my life to rescue
him, I think I deserved not to live.”
The two following anecdotes will show
what an uncommon degree of courage and
resolution he possessed.
Being at Edinburgh previous to a meeting
of Assembly there, at which the king wanted
to bring in some innovation, and meeting
with Mr James Melville, who was sent for
by the king, he accompanied him to Holy-
roodhouse. -While Melville was with the
king, Row stood behind a screen, and not


WILLIAM ROW.
269



getting an opportunity to go out with his brother, undiscovered, he overheard the king say to some of his courtiers, “ This is l
a good simple man, I have stroked cream
on his mouth, and he will procure me a
good number of voters, I warrant you i”
This said, Row got off; and overtaking
Melville, asked him what had passed?
Melville told him all; and said, the king
is well disposed to the church, and intends
to do her good by all his schemes. Row
replied, “ the king looks upon you as a fool
and a knave ; and wants to use you as a coy-
duck to draw in others ;” and then told him
what he had overheard. ,Melville suspect-
ing the truth of this report, Row offered to
go with him, and avouch it to the king’s
face. Accordingly, they went back to the
palace, when Melville seeing Row as for-
ward to go in as he was, believed his
report, and stopped him: and next day,
when the assembly proceeded to voting,
Melville having voted against what the
king proposed, his majesty would not be-
lieve that such was his vote, till he, being
asked again, repeated it.
Again, he being to open the synod of
Perth, in 1607, to which king James sent
lord Scoon, captain of his guards, to force
them to accept a constant moderator,
Scoon sent notice to Row, that if, in his
preaching, he uttered ought against con-
stant moderators, he should cause ten or
twelve of his guards to discharge their culve-
rins at his nose; and, when he attended
the sermon introductory to that synod, he
stood up in a menacing posture to outbrave
the preacher. But Row, no way dismayed,
knowing what vices Scoon was chargeable
with, particularly that he was a great
glutton, drew his picture so like the life,
and condemned what was culpable in it,
with so much severity, that Scoon was
forced to sit down, and even to cover his ,
' until the day of his death.
face. After which Row proceeded to prove
that no constant moderator ought to be

suffered in the church; but knowing that
Scoon understood neither Latin nor Greek,
he wisely avoided naming the words, con-
stant moderator, in English, and always gave
the Greek or Latin phrase. Sermon
being ended, Scoon said to some of the
nobles attending him, “ You see I have
scared the preacher from meddling with
the constant moderator; but I wonder
who he spoke so much against by the
name of prmstes ad vitam.” They told
him that it was in Latin, the constant
moderator, which so incensed him, that
when Row proceeded to constitute the
synod in the name of our Lord Jesus
Christ, Scoon said, “ The devil a Jesus is
here :” and when he was calling over the
roll to choose their moderator after the
ancient form, Scoon would have pulled it
from him; but Row, being a strong man,
held off Scoon with one hand, and holding
the synod roll in the other, called out the
names of the members.
After this, Row was put to the horn;
and on the 11th June following, he and
Henry Livingstone, the moderator, were
summoned before the council, to answer
for their proceedings at the synod. Living-
stone compeared, and with great difficulty
obtained the favour to be warded in his
own parish. But Row was advised not to
compear, unless the council would relax
him fiom the horning, and make him free
of the Scoon party, who had letters
of caption to apprehend him, and commit
him to Blackness. This was refused, and
a search made, which obliged him to
abscond and lurk among his friends for a
considerable time.
He was subjected to several other hard-
ships during the remainder of his life, but
still maintained that steady faithfulness
and courage in the discharge of his duty,
which is exemplified in the above instances,
Alexander Lindsay, bishop of Dunkeld



270
SCOTS WORTHIES.


and minister of St Madoes, in the presby—
tery of Perth, was the patron of F organ-
denny, who, having been acquainted with
Bow from the time they had been at
college, although they differed in opinion
on some church matters, esteemed him for
his good qualities, and generously appointed
his son William assistant and successor in
that parish.
The following interesting anecdote, in
reference to this event is found in Row’s
own manuscript. Lindsay said to him,
“ Mr ‘William, I do not come to this meet-
ing as a bishop, but as your co-presbyter;
and I promise you I shall not ask your
son any other questions than those which
are contained in the Psalm-book,” that is,
in the old form of admission, which to-
gether with other forms and prayers, were
prefixed to the metrical version of the
Psalms. Row enjoyed the bishop’s fi'iend-
ship, and could therefore easily exonerate
his conscience by refraining from calling him
“ My lord ;” accordingly when they went
to dinner, to which the bishop came un-
invited, Itow, in the manner of the times,
showed the behaviour of a rigid presby-
terian. “ Mr Alexander,” said he, “ you
know you and I were co-disciples at college,
and Mr John Malcolm, now minister of
Perth, was our master; it is therefore fit
that your master should sit at table above
you. “ It is exceedingly right,” said the
bishop; and with a great deal of good
humour, he gave place to Mr Malcohn.
Indeed Lindsay, who was laird of Evelick,
in the Carse of Gowrie, was in the last
years of his life a presbyterian.
Row died in the beginning of October
1634. William his son followed in the
footsteps of his father; for, in the time
of the civil war he was a zealous cove-
nanter, and attended the Scots army into ,
He died 1
England as one of its chaplains.


in 1660. If he had lived till the establish-
ment of episcopacy in the following year,
he would likely have been deprived for
non-conforinity.*
* The Rows have been a very distinguished
family for the part they bore in the ecclesi-
astical history of their country. James Row was
for fifty-two years minister of Carnock in Fife.
He partly wrote the history of the Kirk of Scotland,
from the year 15.58, to August 1637, finished by
Mr John Row, late minister at Carnock. This is
preserved in manuscript in the Advocate’s library,
and is considered a valuable though rather prolix
Work. John Row, a younger brother, was at an
early age appointed rector of the grammar school at
Perth. He was one of the first Hebrew scholars of
his day, an acquirement which was likewise common
to his father, and grandfather. Through the influ-
ence of the famous Andrew Cont, he received an
appointment to be one of the ministers of Aberdeen.
In 1643, he published a vocabulary of the Hebrew
language, which he dedicated to his patrons, the
town council of Aberdeen, from whom as their
mark of respect, he received four hundred merks,
Scots money. He, with Mr Cout, supported presby-
terianism, and of course were obnoxious to those
who favoured episcopacy. Row was choser
moderator of the provincial Assembly at Aberdeen,
in 1644; in the year following, when Montrose
approached at the head of the royalist forces, he,
with Cont and other covenanters, sought refuge
with the earl marischal in the castle of Dunnotter.
He was one of the six clergymen chosen to act with
the committee appointed by the Scottish parlia-
ment to remonstrate against the contemplated
murder of Charles I. He was chosen principal of
king’s college Aberdeenin 1652; and, the eighth of
October 1656 being appointed for a public thanks-
giving, he preached at Westminster Abbey before the
parliament, a sermon entitled “ Man’s duty in mag-
nifying Gods work,” which was afterwards printed
by their orders. Having published some works
reflecting on the royal family, they were burned
at the cross of Aberdeen by the hangman in the
year 1661 : at this time he resigned his office as
principal. Hereafter this distinguished man sup-
ported himself, though scantily for some years,
by teaching a school in Aberdeen. His last days
were spent in the family of a son-in-law in the
parish of Kinellar, eight miles from Aberdeen. and
his mortal remains were interred in the churchyard
there.



PATRICK SIMPSON.
271


PATRICK
SIMPSON.
PATRICK SIMPsoN was the son of Andrew
Simpson, minister of Dunbar, one of the
first in the church of Scotland who boldly
opposed popery, and instructed many, both
of the clergy and laity, in the protestant
faith. He was also one of five brothers,
who, after the example of their father,
devoted themselves to the church. After
having finished his academical course, he
spent a considerable time in retirement,
which he employed in reading the Greek
and Latin classics, the ancient Christian
fathers, and the history of the primitive
church. Being blamed by one of his
friends for wasting so much time in the
study of Pagan writers, he replied, that
he intended to adorn the house of God
with these Egyptian jewels.
He was first ordained minister of Cra-
mond, but was afterwards translated to Stir-
ling, where he continued until his death. He
was a faithful contender against the lordly
encroachment of prelacy. In 1584, when
there was an express charge given by the
king to the ministers, either to acknow-
ledge Patrick Adamson, as archbishop
of St Andrews, or lose their benefices,
Simpson opposed that order with all his
power, although Adamson was his uncle
by the mother’s side; and when some of
his brethren seemed willing to acquiesce
submission to Adamson, so far as it was

them sharply, saying, it would be no salvo
to their consciences, seeing it was altogether
absurd to subscribe an agreement with any
human invention, when it was condemned
by the word of God. A bishopric was
offered him, besides a yearly pension from
the king, in order to bring him over to
his designs; but he positively refused all,
saying, that be regarded that preferment
and profit as a bribe to enslave his con-
science, which was dearer to him than
anything whatever. He did not stop with
this; but having occasion, in 15 98, to preach
before the king, he publicly exhorted him
to beware that he drew not the wrath of
God upon himself, by patronizing a mani-
fest breach of the divine laws. Immedi-
ately after sermon, the king stood up, and
charged him not to intermeddle in these
matters.
When the Assembly which was held at
Aberdeen, in 1604, was condemned by the
state, he in a very solemn manner de~
nounced the judgment of God against all
such as had been concerned in distress-
ing, and imprisoning the ministers who
maintained its lawfulness, and justified its
proceedings ; and in 1606, when the parlia-
ment met at Perth to repeal the statute
which annexed the episcopal temporalities
bishops to their ancient privileges, Simpson,
seeing that no attention was paid to the


y to the crown, and to restore the order of ,
in the king’s mandate, and subscribe their 5
l
agreeable to the word of God, he rebuked remonstrances of the clergy, drew up a t

‘.l
272
SCOTS WORTHIES.


protest, which was given in to each of the
three estates, after having been most in-
sultingly thrown out by the lords of articles.
This important document, of which we
subjoin a copy, was signed by forty-two
ministers, and by him delivered into the
hands of the earl of Dunbar.
Protestation ofi'erecl to the estates con-
. . . l
vened m Parlzament at Perth, 2n the
beginning of July, anno 1606.
“ The earnest desire of our hearts is to
be faithful, and in case we could have
been silent and unfaithful at this time,
when the undermined estate of Christ’s
kirk craveth a duty at our hands, we should i
have locked up our hearts with patience '
and our mouths with taciturnity, rather
than to have impeached any with our
admonition. But that which Christ com-
mandeth, necessity urgeth, and duty wring-
eth out of us; to be faithful office-bearers
in the kirk of God, no man can justly
blame us, providing we hold ourselves
within the bounds of that Christian moder-
ation, which followeth God, without injury
done to any man, especially these whom
God hath lapped up within the skirts of
his own honourable styles and names, call-
mg them gods upon earth.
“ Now, therefore, my lords, convened in
this present parliament, under the most
high and excellent majesty of our dread
eovereign, to your honours is our exhor-
tation, that ye would endeavour with all
singleness of heart, love and zeal, to ad—
vance the building of the house of God,
reserving always unto the Lord’s own hand,
that glory which he will communicate
neither with. man nor angel, viz., to pre-
scribe from his holy mountain, a lively
pattern, according to which his own taber-
nacle should be formed. Remembering
always, that there is no absolute and un-
doubted authority in this world, excepting
‘
l the sovereign authority of Christ, the King,
1 to whom it belongeth as properly to rule
I the kirk, according to the good pleasure of
T his own will, as it belongeth to him to
save his kirk, by the merit of his own suf-
ferings. All other authority is so in-
trenched within the marches of divine com-
’ mandment, that the least overpassing of the
i bounds set by God himself, bringeth men
under the fearful expectation of temporal
and eternal judgments. For this cause,
my lords, let that authority of yotu“ meeting
in this present parliament, be like the
ocean,which, as it is the greatest of all other

waters, so it containeth itself better within
the coasts and limits appointed by God,
than any rivers of fresh running waters
have done.
“Next, remember that God hath sent
you to be nursing fathers to the kirk, crav-
ing of your hands, that ye would maintain
and advance by your authority, that kirk
which the Lord had fashioned, by the inn
counterfeited work of his own new creation,
as the prophet speaketh, He hath made us,
and not we ourselves ; not that ye should
presume to fashion and shape a new per-
traiture of a kirk, and a new form of divine
service, which God in his word hath not
before allowed; because, that were you
to extend your authority farther than
the calling ye have of God doth permit, as
namely, if ye should (as God forbid,)
authorize the authority of bishops, and
their pre-eminence above their brethren,
ye should bring into the kirk of God the
ordinance of man, and that thing which the
experience of preceding ages hath testified
to be the ground of great idleness, palpable
ignorance, insufferable pride, pitiless
tyranny, and shameless ambition, in the
kirk of God; and, finally, to have been

the ground of that antichristian l'iierarchy,
which mounted up on the steps of pre-
eminence of bishops, until that man of
sin came forth. as the ripe fruit of man’s



l __ _‘_________ VA__
,- __
l.
PATRICK SIMPSON.
273


wisdom, whom God shall consume with
the breath of his own mouth. Let the
sword of God pierce that belly which
brought forth such a monster ; and let the
staff of God crush that egg which hath
hatched such a cockatrice: and let not
only that Roman antichrist be thrown down
from the high bench of his usurped author-
ity, but also let all the steps, whereby he
mounted up to that unlawfiil pre-eminence,
be cut down, and utterly abolished in this
land.
“ Above all things, my lords, beware to
strive against God with an open and dis-
played banner, by building up again the
walls of Jericho, which the Lord hath not
only cast down, but hath also laid them
under a horrible interdiction and execra-
tion: so that the building of them again
must needs stand to greater charges to the
builders, than the re-edifying of Jericho to
Hiel the Bethelite, in the days of Ahab:
for he had nothing but the interdiction of
Joshua, and the curse pronounced, to stay
him from the building again of Jericho;
but the noblemen and states of this realm,
have the reverence of the oath of God,
made by themselves, and subscribed with
their own hands, in the Confession of Faith,
called the king’s majesty’s,published oftener
than once or twice, subscribed and sworn
by his most excellent majesty, and by his
highness, the nobility, estates, and whole
subjects of this realm, to hold them back
from setting up the dominion of bishops:
because it is of verity, that they subscribed
and swore the said Confession, containing,
not only the maintenance of the true doc-
trine, but also of the discipline professed
within the realm of Scotland.
“ Consider also, that this work cannot
be set forward, without the great slander
of the gospel, defamation of many preach-
ers, and evident hurt and loss of the people’s
souls, committed to our charge. For the
people are brought almost to the like case,

as they were in Syria, Arabia, and Egypt,
about the year of our Lord 600, when
the people were so shaken and brangled
with contrary doctrines; some affirming,
and others denying the opinion of Eutychus,
that in the end they lost all assured per-
suasion of ' true religion ; and within short
time thereafter, did cast the gates of
their hearts open to the peril; to receive
that vile and blasphemous doctrine of
Mahomet ; even so the people in this land
are cast into such admiration, to hear
the preachers who damned so openly this
stately pre-eminence of bishops, and then,
within a few years after, accept the same
dignity, pomp, and superiority, in their own
persons, which they before had damned in
others, that the people know not what way
to incline, and in the end will become so
doubtful, in matters of religion and doctrine.
that their hearts will be like an open
tavern, patent to every guest that chooses
to come in.
“ We beseech your honours to ponder
this in the balance of a godly and prudent
mind, and suffer not the gospel to be
slandered by the behaviour of a few preach-
ers, of whom we are bold to affirm, that, if
they go forward in this defection, not only
abusing and appropriating the name of
bishops to themselves, which is common to
all the pastors of God’s kirk, but also tak-
ing upon themselves such offices, that
carry with them the ordinary charge of
governing the civil affairs of the country,
neglecting their flocks, and seeking to sub-
ordinate their brethren to their jurisdiction;
if any of them, we say, be found to step
forward in this cause of defection, they are
more worthy as rotten members, to be cut
off from the body of Christ, than to have
superiority and dominion over their
brethren within the kirk of God.
“This pre-eminence of bishops is that
Dagon, which once already fell before the
ark of God in this éagd, and no band of


274
SCOTS WORTHIES.




—_

iron shall be able to hold him up again.
This is that pattern of that altar brought
from Damascus, but not showed to Moses
in the mountain; and therefore it shall fare
with it, as it did with that altar of Damas-
cus, it came last into the temple and went
first out. Likewise the institution of
Christ was anterior to this pre-eminence
of bishops, and shall consist and stand
within the house of God, when this new
fashion of the altar shall go to the door.
“ Remember, my lords, that in times
past your authority was for Christ and not
against him. Ye followed the light of
God, and strived not against it; and, like
a child in the mother’s hand, ye said to
Christ z—Draw us after thee. God forbid
that ye should now leave off, and fall away
from your former reverence borne to Christ,
in presuming to lead him whom the Father
hath appointed to be leader of you. And
far less to trail the holy ordinances of Christ,
by the cords of your authority, at the heels
of the ordinances of men.
“ And albeit your honours have no such
intention to do anything which may impair
the honour of Christ’s kingdom; yet re-
member, that spiritual darkness, flowing
from a very small beginning, doth so
insinuate, and thrust itself into the house
of God, as men can hardly discern by what
secret means the light was dimmed, and
darkness creeping in, got the upper hand;
and in the end, at unawares, all was in-
volved in a misty cloud of horrible apostasy.
“ And lest any should think this our
admonition out of time, in so far it is statute
and ordained already by his majesty, with
advice of his estates in parliament, that all
ministers, provided to prelacies, should have
vote in parliament; as likewise, the Gen-
eral Assembly (his majesty being present
thereat,) hath found the same lawful and
expedient, we would humbly and earnestly
beseech all such to consider,
“ First, That the kingdom of Jesus

Christ, the office-bearers and laws thereof,
neither should nor can suffer any deroga-
tion, addition, diminution, or alteration,
besides the prescript of his holy word, by
any inventions or doings of men, civil or
ecclesiastical. And we are able, by the
grace of God, and will offer ourselves to
prove that this bishoprick to be erected, is
against the word of God, the ancient fathers,
and canons of the kirk, the modern most
learned and godly divines, the doctrine and
constitution of the kirk of Scotland since
the first reformation of religion within the
same country, the laws of the realm, ra-
tifying the government of the kirk by the
general and provincial assemblies, presby-
teries, and sessions, also against the weal
and honour of the king’s most excellent
majesty, the weal and honour of the realm,
and quietness thereof; the established
estate and weal of the kirk, in the doctrine,
discipline, and patrimony thereof; the weal
and honour of your lordships, the most
ancient estate of this realm; and finally,
against the weal of all, and every one, the
good subjects thereof, in soul, body, and
substance.
“ Next, That ‘the act of parliament,
granting vote in parliament to ministers,
is with a special provision, that nothing
thereby be derogatory or prejudicial to the
present established discipline of the kirk,
and jurisdiction thereof, in general and
synodical assemblies, presbyteries, and
sessions.
“ Thirdly, and lastly, The General
Assembly (his majesty sitting, voting, and
consenting therein), fearing the corruption
of that office, hath circumscribed and
bounded the same with a number of cau-
tions; all which, together with such others
as shall be concluded upon by the Assembly,
were thought expedient to be inserted in
the body of the act of parliament, as most
necessary and substantial parts of the same.
And the said Assembly hath not agreed to




PATRICK SIMPSON.
275


give thereunto the name of bishops, for I Isaac Blackfoord, Isaac Strachan, James
fear of importing the old corruption, pomp,
and tyranny, of papal bishops, but ordained
them to be called commissioners for the
kirk to vote in parliament. And it is of
verity, that according to these cautions,
neither have these men, now called bishops,
entered to that office of commissionary to
vote in parliament, neither since their in-
going have they behaved themselves there-
in. And therefore, in the name of the Lord
Jesus Christ, who shall _ hold the great
court of parliament to judge both the quick
and the dead, at his glorious manifestation;
and in the name of his kirk in general, so
happily and well established within this,‘
realm, and whereof the said realm hath
reaped the comfortable peace and unity, ,
free from heresy, schism, and dissension,i
' woman of singular piety, fell sick; and
these forty-six years bypast; also in name
of our presbyteries, from which we have
our commission; and in our name, office-
bearers and pastors within the same, for
discharging of our necessary duty, and dis-
burdening of our consciences in particular,
we except and protest against the said
bishoprick, and bishops, and the erection,
or confirmation, or ratification thereof, at
this present parliament; most humbly
craving that this our protestation may be
admitted by your honours, and registered
among the statutes and acts of the same,
in case (as God forbid,) these bishopricks be
erected, ratified, or confirmed therein.”
The above protestation was subscribed

by the following ministers z—Messrs An- ;
drew Melvill, James Melvill,
William 3

Row, William Row, Robert Mercer
Edmund Myles, John French, Patrick
Simpson, John Dykes, William Young,
William Cooper, Wvilliam Keith, Hugh
Duncan, James Mercer, Robert Colvill,
William Hogg, Robert Wallace, David
Barclay, John Weemes, William Cranston.
Simpson was not more distinguished for
zeal in the cause of Christ, than for piety
and an exemplary life, which had a happy
effect upon the people with whom he stood
connected. He was in a very eminent
degree blessed with the spirit and return
of prayer; and the following fact, attested
by old Mr Row of Carnock, shows how
much of the divine countenance he had in
this duty :—-His wife, Martha Barron, a
under her indisposition, was strongly as-
saulted by the common enemy of salvation,
suggesting to her that she should be de-
livered up to him. This soon brought her
into a very uneasy state of mind, which
continued for some time increasing; and
she frequently broke forth into very dread-
ful expressions—Being in one of these fits
of despair, one Sabbath morning, when her
husband was going to preach, he was ex-
ceedingly troubled at her condition, and
went to prayer, which she took no notice
of. After he had done, he turned to the
company present, and said, that they who
had been witnesses to that sad hour, should
yet see a gracious work of God on her, and
that the devil’s malice against that poor
woman should have a shameful foil. Her
Scott, James Ross, John Carmichael, : perturbation of mind continued for some
John Gillespie, \Villiam Erskine, Colin‘
Campbell, James Muirhead, John Mit-
chell, John Davidson, John Colden,
John Abernethy, James Davidson, Adam
Bannatyne, John Row, \Villiam Buchanan,
John Kennedy, John Ogilvie, John Scrim-
geour, John

Malcolm, James Burden,,_
days after. Unwearied in his supplications
in her behalf, his mind became gradually
more and more confident that they would
be graciously answered; when on the Tues-
day morning preceding her death, upon
his return from secret prayer, he said to
the people who were in the chamber :--





276
SCOTS WORTHIES.


“ Be of good comfort, for I am sure, that
ere ten hours of the day, that brand shall
be plucked out of the fire ;” after which
he went to prayer, at his wife’s bedside.
She continued for some time quiet, but,
upon his mentioning Jacob wrestling with
God, she sat up in the bed, drew the cur-
tain aside, and said, “ Thou art this day
a Jacob, who hast wrestled and hast pre-
vailed: and now God hath made good his
word, which he spoke this morning to you,
for I am plucked out of the hands of Satan,
and he shall have no power over me.” This
interruption made him silent for a little;
but afterwards with great melting of heart,
he proceeded in prayer, and magnified the
riches of grace towards him. From that
hour she continued to utter nothing but the
language of joy and comfort, until her death,
which was on Friday following, August
18th, 1601.
He lived for several years after this,
fervent and faithful in the work of the
ministry. In 1608, when the bishops and
some commissioners convened in the palace
of Falkland, for the purpose of coming to
an agreement respecting the affairs of the
church, towards the summoning of a Gen~
eral Assembly, several ministers assembled
also in the kirk of the town, and chose him
for their moderator; after which, they spent
some time in prayer, and tasted some of the
comfort of their former meetings. They
then agreed upon certain articles for con-
cord and peace to be given in to the bishops.
This Simpson and some others did in the
name of the rest; but the bishops shifted
them off to the next Assembly, and in the
mean time took all possible precautions to



strengthen their own party, which they ef-
fected. -
In 1610, the noblemen and bishops came
to Stirling, after dissolving the Assembly.
In preaching before them, Simpson openly
charged the bishops with perjury and gross
defection. They hesitated for-some time,
whether they should accuse him or com-
pound the matter: but, after deliberation,
they dropt the affair altogether for the pre-
sent. There is no reason to doubt but he
would have been subjected to the same
sufferings with many others of his brethren,
had he lived ; but before the copestone
was laid on prelacy in Scotland, he had
entered into the joy of his Lord. In March
1618, which was about four months before
the Assembly at Perth, in which the five
articles were agreed upon, he said, that
that month should put an end to all his
troubles; and he died accordingly about
the end of it, blessing the Lord, that he
had not been perverted by the sinful courses
of these times ; and saying, As the Lord had
said to Elijah in the wilderness, so in some
respects, he had dealt with him all the days
of his life.
He wrote a history of the Church, for
the space of about ten centuries; besides
some other little tracts, and a History of
the Councils of the Church. Upon some
of his books he had written, “ Remember, O
my soul, and never forget the 9th of August,
what consolation the Lord gave thee, and
how he performed what he spake according
to Zechariah,—-Is not this a brand pluck-
eel out of the fire ?”*
‘ Zech. 2.


ANDREW DUNCAN.
277


ANDREW
DUNCAN
SOON after the illustrious Melville was
made principal of the new college of St
Andrews, Andrew Duncan, the subject of
this memoir, became a keen opponent of
what were then thought his unwarrantable
strictures on the philosophy of Aristotle.
Duncan was at that time a Regent in St
Leonard’s college, who, in common with
other members of the university, regarded
the novel views of the principal as calculated
to destroy the credit of his teaching. But
his prejudices against Melville soon subsided,
and from being an adversary he became an
ardent admirer and a steady friend.
He was afterwards settled minister at
Crail, in Fife, and became a sufferer for
the presbyterian cause. He was present
at the famous Assembly held at Aber-
deen in 1605 ; and was the following year
along with other five ministers, tried and
found guilty of high treason because they
had attended said Assembly. After hav-
ing been imprisoned for fourteen months
in Blackness castle, he was with his
five brethren banished to France. On
making some acknowledgments to the
king and council, he was allowed to re-
turn to his native land about six years
thereafter.
In 1619, he was summoned before the
high commission court, at St Andrews, on
account of his faithfulness in opposing the
five articles of Perth. At his first com-
pearance he declined their authority ; and at
the second, adhering to his former declina-

ture, the high commission court passed sen-
tence of deposition against him; and ordain-
ed him to enter himself in ward at Dundee.
After sentence was pronounced, he gave
in a protestation, which was as follows.
“ N ow seeing I have done nothing of this
business, whereof I have been accused by
you, but have ‘been serving Jesus Christ,
my Master, in rebuking vice, in simplicity
and righteousness of heart, I protest, seeing
ye have done me wrong, for a remedy at
God’s hand, the righteous judge; and sum-
mon you before his dreadful judgment-seat,
to be censured and punished for such un-
righteous dealings, at such a time as his
majesty shall think expedient; and in the
mean time decline this your judgment
simpliciter, now as before, and appeal to
the ordinary Assembly of the church, for
reasons before produced in writ. Pity
yourselves for the Lord’s sake; lose not
your own dear souls, I beseech you, for
Esau’s pottage: remember Balaam, who
was cast away by the deceit of the wages
of unrighteousness ; forget not how miser-
able Judas was, who lost himself for a
trifle of money, that never did him good.
Better be pined to death by hunger, than
for a little pittance of the earth, to perish
for ever, and never be recovered, so long as
the days of heaven shall last, and the years
of eternity shall endure. Why would ye
distress your own brethren, sons and ser-
vants of the Lord Jesus? This is not the
doing of the shepherds of the flock of


278
SCOTS W ORTHI ES.







Christ: if ye will not regard your souls‘ When the bishop of St Andrews had
nor consciences, look, I beseech you, to
your fame: why will ye be miserable both
in this life, and in the life to come!”
- .
-_ _; 1.‘
z ‘gr-:4» ~ ll
*4". v
,.
ll
l‘l ‘fill. ?’:,__:_.___‘_\ I’ \
| read a few lines of this admonition, he
cast it from him ; the bishop of Dunblane
took it up, and reading it, said, he calls us

[Dunblane Cathedral, m 1620.]
Esaus, Balaams, and Judases. “ Not so,”
said Duncan, “ read again, beware that ye
be not like them.” In the space of a
month after, he was deposed for non—con-
formityf"
In July 1621, he presented a large sup-
plication, in name of himself, and some of
his faithful brethren,who had been excluded
l“ Next to the satisfaction that flows to the mind
of the falsely accused, from theimmediate approval
of God and his own conscience, must be that result-
ing from an appeal to the great day; for then every
unjust judgment shall be reversed, and righteous-
ness rewarded. But while the solemn appeal of
an unjustly condemned man is consolatory to him-
self, how ought it to make the heart of an unright-
eous judge quail! Surely then the bishops of St
Andrews and Dunblane had manifested more wisdom,
had they not treated Andrew Duncan’s admonition
with contempt. Let judges, whether in civil or
sacred matters always feel, when they give judgment,
that the rights of the poorest will be vindicated in
the judgment of the great day
from the General Assembly, to Sir George
' Hay, clerk register; on which account he
was in a few days after apprehended by the
captain of the guard, and brought before
the council, who accused him of breaking
ward, after he had been suspended and con-
fined to Dundee, for having preached the
week before at Crail. Duncan denied that
he had been put to the horn; and as for
breaking Ward, he said, that for the sake
of obedience, he staid at Dundee, separated
from a wife and six children for half a year,
and that the winter approaching had forced
him to go home. In the end, he requested
them not to imprison him on his own
charges; but the sentence had been re-
solved upon before he compeared. He
was conveyed next day to Blackness castle,
where he remained until October there-
after, when he was again brought before
1 the council, and by them confined to Kil-






ANDREWTDUNCAN.
279


1‘
- —l
rennie, a parish adjacent to his own, upon his own charges.
Upon another occasion of the same
nature, this worthy man was banished out
of the kingdom, and went to settle at Ber-
wick ; but having several children, and his
wife again near her confinement, they
were reduced to great hardships, being
obliged to part with their servant, having
scarcely subsistence sufficient for them-
selves. One night in particular, the chil-
dren asking for bread, and there being none
to give them, they cried very sore: the
mother was likewise much depressed in
spirit; the minister himself had recourse
sometimes to prayer; and in the intervals
endeavoured to cherish his wife’s hope, and
please the children, and at last got them to
bed; but she continued to mourn heavily.
He exhorted her to wait patiently upon
God, who was now trying them, but would
undoubtedly provide for them; and added,
that if the Lord should rain down bread
from heaven, they should not want. This
confidence was the more remarkable, be-i
cause they had neither friend nor acquain-
tance in that place to whom they could
make their case known. And yet before
morning, a man brought them a sackful of
provision, and went off, without telling
them from whence it came, though en-
treated to do so. When the father opened
the sack he found in it a bag with twenty
pounds Scots, two loaves of bread, a bag of
flour, another of barley, and such like pro-
visions; and having brought the whole to
his wife, he said, “ See what a good Master
I serve.” After this she hired a servant
again, bit was soon reduced to a new ex-
tremity: the pains of childbearing came
upon her before she could make any pro-
vision for her delivery; but Providence
interposed in their behalf at this time also.
While she travailed in the night season, and .
the good man knew not where to apply for
a midwife, a gentlewoman came early in ,

the morning riding to the door, and having
' sent her servant back with the horse, with
orders when to return, she went in, and
asked the maid of the house, how her mis-
tress was, and desired access to her, which
she obtained. She first ordered a good fire
to be made, then desired Mrs Duncan to
rise, and without any other assistance than
the house afforded, she delivered her, and
afterwards accommodated Mrs Duncan and
the child with abundance of very fine linen
which she had brought along with her.
She gave her likewise a box, containing
some necessary cordials, and five pieces of
gold, bidding them both be of good comfort,
for they should not want. After which
she rode away on the horse, which had by
this time returned for her; but would not
tell her name, nor from whence she came.
Thus did God take his own servant under
his immediate care and providence, when
men had wrongfully excluded him from
enjoying his worldly comforts. He con-
tinued zealous and steadfast in the faith,
enduring his severe trials with the most
exemplary resignation; and to the end of
his life, his conduct was uniform with the
circumstances of this brief narrative.
TESTIMONY
OF
ANDREW DUNCAN
“ I Andrew Duncan, a sinful Wight,
Christ’s unworthy minister in his glorious
gospel, being sickly and weak, worn out
with years, and heaviness of heart in this
pilgrimage; and being now weary of this
loathsome prison, this body of death, be-
cause of sin; and having received sundry
advertisements and summonses from my
Master to flit out of this uncouth country,
the region of death, home to my native
land; and now sitting upon the prison-door
i threshold, ready to obey, waiting till the
sad messenger be sent to convey me home





280
SCOTS WORTHIES.


to that glorious palace, even the heavenly
Jerusalem, that I may enter into possession
of my heritage, even that glorious kingdom
in eternity, which Christ came down from
heaven to conquer for me; and then went
up to prepare and possess it in my name, as
my attorney, until it please his Majesty
to take me thither, that I may in my own
person possess it, I proceed to set down the
declaration of my latter will, concerning
those things which God hath lent me in
this world; in manner following: First, as
touching myself, body and soul :-—my soul I
leave to Christ Jesus, who gave it, and
when it was lost, redeemed it, that he may
send his holy angels to transport it to the
bosom of Abraham, there to enjoy all
happiness and contentment ;—-and as for
this frail body, I commend it to the grave,
there to sleep and rest, as in a sweet bed,
until the day of refreshment, when it shall
be reunited to the soul, and shall be set
down at the table with the holy patriarchs,
prophets, and apostles ; yea, shall be placed
on the throne with Christ, and get the
crown of glory on my head. As for the
children whom God hath given me, (for
which I thank Him,) I leave them to his
providence, to be governed and cared for
by him, beseeching Him to be the tutor,
curator, and agent, in all their adoes, yea,
and a father ; and that he would lead them

by his gracious Spirit, through this evil
world: that they may be profitable instru-
ments, both in kirk and commonwealth, to
set out his glory; beseeching them on the
other part, (as they would have God’s bless-
ing, and mine in all their affairs,) to set Him
before their eyes, and to walk in his ways,
living peaceably in his fear, in all humility
and meekness, with all those they have ado
with; holding their course to heaven, and
comforting themselves with the glorious
and fair-to-look-at heritage, which Christ
hath conquered for them, and for all that
love him. Under God, I leave John Dun-
can, my eldest son, to be tutor to my
youngest daughter, Bessie Duncan, his
youngest sister, to take a care of her, and
to see that all turns go right, touching her
person and gear. For executors, I leave
my three sons, John, William, and David,
to do my turns after me, and to put in
practice my directions ; requesting them
to be good and comfortable to their sisters,
but chiefly to the two that are at home, as
they would have God’s blessing and mine.
Concerning my temporal goods, the bag-
gage and blathrie of the earth, as I have
gotten them in the world from God’s liberal
hand, so I leave them behind me in the
world; giving most humble and hearty
thanks unto my heavenly Father for so
long and comfortable loan of the same.”




JOHN SCRI MGEOUIL
281





,_._ ~-
JOHN SCRIMGEOUR.

NOTHING seems to be known of the paren-
tage and birth of this godly man. The
earliest authentic notice we have of him,
is, that he was minister of Kinghorn, in
Fife, and that, in 1590, John Scrimgeour
was the person selected to attend king
James as chaplain, in his voyage to Den-
mark to bring home his queen. He was
afterwards concerned in several important
affairs of the church, until that fatal year
1618, when the five articles of Perth were
agreed on in an Assembly held at that
place. He attended at this Assembly and
gave in some proposals, upon being, along
with others of his faithful brethren, ex-
cluded from having a vote, by the prevail-
ing party of that Assembly.
In 1620, he was, with some others, sum-
moned before the high commission court,
for not preaching upon holidays, and not
administering the communion conform to
the agreement at Perth ; with certification,
if this were proved, that he should be de-
prived of exercising the functions of a min-
ister in all time coming. But there being
none present on the day appointed, except
the bishops of St Andrews, Glasgow, and
the Isles, and Walter Whiteford, they
were dismissed at that time; but were
summoned apud acta to compear again on
the 1st of March, and the bishops caused
the clerk to exact their consent to depriva-
tion, in case they did not compear against
that day. Nevertheless, they all protested
with one voice, that they would never wil-

lingly renounce their ministry; and such
was the resolution and courage of Scrim-
geour, that, notwithstanding all the threat-
enings of the bishops,he celebrated the com-
munion conform to the ancient practice of
the church, a few days thereafter.
On the day appointed for their next com-
pearance, the bishops of St Andrews, Dun-
keld, Galloway, the Isles, Dunblane,
Hewison commissary of Edinburgh, and
Dr Blair, being assembled in the bishop of
St Andrews’ lodging in Edinburgh, John
Scrimgeour was again called upon to
answer. The bishop of St Andrews alleged
against him, that he had promised either to
conform or quit his ministry, as the act at
his last compearance on January 26th re-
ported; to which he replied, “ I am sore
straitened, I never saw reason to conform;
and as for my ministry, it was not mine,
and so I could not quit it.” After long
reasoning betwixt him and the bishops con-
cerning church policy and the keeping of
holidays, he was removed for a little. Being
called in again, the bishop of St Andrews
said to him, “ You are deprived of all func-
tion within the kirk, and ordained within six
days to enter in ward at Dundee.” “ It is
a very summary and peremptory sentence,”
said Scrimgeour, “ye might have been
advised better, and first have heard what I
would have said.” “ You shall be heard,”
said the bishop. This brought on some
further reasoning, in the course of which
Scrimgeour gave a faithful testimony
‘ N



l______fli HM



282
SCOTS WORTHIES.









against the king’s supremacy over the
church, and, among other things, said, I
have had opportunity to reason with the
king himself on this subject, and have told
him, that Christ was the Sovereign, and
only Director of his house; and that his
majesty was subject to him. I have had
occasion to tell other men’s matters to the
king, and could have truly claimed this
great preferment.” “ I tell you, John,”
said the bishop of St Andrews, “that the
king is pope, and shall be so now.” He
replied, “ that is an evil style you give
him,” and then gave in his reasons in
writ, which they read at leisure. After-
wards the bishop of St Andrews said to
him, “take up your reasons again; if you
will not conform I cannot help it; the
king must be obeyed, the Lords have given
sentence, and will stand to it.” “ Ye can-
not deprive me of my ministry,” said
Scrimgeour ; “ I received it not from you;
I received it from the whole synod of Fife,
and, for anything ye do, I will never think
myselfdeposed.” The bishop of St Andrews
replied, “ You are deprived only of the pre-
sent exercise of it.” Then he presented
the following protestation: “ I protest be-
fore the Lord Jesus, that I get manifest
wrong: my reasons and allegations are not
considered and answered. _ I obtest you to
answer at his glorious appearance, for
this and such dealings; and protest, that
my cause should have been heard as I pled,
and still plead and challenge.- I likewise
appeal to the Lord Jesus, his eternal
Word; to the king, my dread sovereign,
his law, to the constitution of this kirk and
kingdom, to the councils and assemblies
of both; and protest, that I stand minister
of the evangel, and only by violence I am
thrust from the same.”
the sentence,” said the bishop of St
Andrews. He answered, “ that Dundee
was far off. and he was not able for far
journeys, as physicians can witness.” And

“ You must obey i

he added, “little know ye what is in my
purse.” “ Then where will you choose
the place of your confinement,” said the
bishop? He answered, “ at a little room
of my own, called Bowhill, in the parish
of Auchterderran.” Then said the bishop,
“ write at Bowhill, during the king’s plea-
sure.” Thus this worthy servant of Christ
lived the rest of his days in Auchterderran.
In his old age he was grievously afflicted
with the stone. He said to a godly min”
ister who went to see him before his death,
“ I have been a rude stunkard all my life,
and now by this pain the Lord is humbling
me to make me a lamb before he take me
to himself.”
He was a man somewhat negligent in
his clothing, and inelegant in some of his
expressions and behaviour; and yet was a
very loving tender-hearted man; of a deep
natural judgment; and very learned, especi-
ally in Hebrew. He often wished that most
books were burnt, except the Bible and
some short notes thereon. He had a pe-
culiar talent for comforting the dejected.
He used a very familiar, but pressing man-
ner of preaching. He was also an eminent
wrestler with God, and had more than
ordinary fervency and success in that exer-
cise, as appears from the following in stances.
When minister of Kinghorn, there was
a certain godly woman under his charge,
who fell sick of a very lingering disease,
and was all the while assaulted with
strong temptations, leading her to think
* While the above conversation between the
bishop and Scrimgeour is an illustration of the
Erastian nature of the government, it shows the
minister of Christ in his true dignity. From his
answers to the bishops it is evident Scrimgeour‘
did not follow his holy vocation for filthy lucre’s
sake; that he understood who was his spiritual
master, and was faithful in his service. Before his
tyrannic judges he nobly supported the spiritual
headship of Christ, in opposition to the king's
supremacy, and that of the hishops,-“holding
fast the form of sound words" in the face of their
threats and punishments.



JOHN W ELCH.
283


that she was a castaway, notwithstanding
that her whole conversation had put the
reality of grace in her beyond a doubt.
He often visited her while in this deep
exercise, but her trouble and terror still
remained. As her dissolution drew on,
her spiritual trouble increased. He went
with two of his elders to her, and began
zirst, in their presence to comfort her, and
pray with her; but she still grew worse.
He ordered his elders to pray, and after-
wards prayed himself; but no relief came.
Then sitting pensive for a little space, he
thus broke silence: “What is this! Our
laying grounds of comfort before her will
not do : prayer will not do. We must try
another remedy. Sure I am, this is a
daughter of Abraham,—sure I am, she
hath sent for me,-—and therefore, in the
name of God, the Father of our Lord Jesus,
who sent him to redeem sinners; in the
name of Jesus Christ, who obeyed the
Father, and came to save us; in the name
of the Holy and Blessed Spirit, our
Quickener and Sanctifier—I, the elder,
command thee a daughter of Abraham, to
be loosed from these bonds!” And im~
mediately peace and joy ensued.
Scrimgeour had several friends and chil- l

dren taken away by ‘death; and his only
daughter who at that time survived, and
whom he dearly loved, being seized with
the king’s evil, by which she was reduced
to the very point of death, so that he was
called up to see her die; and finding her
in this condition, he went out to the fields,
(as he himself told,) in the night time, in
great grief and anxiety, and began to ex-
postulate with the Lord, with such expres—
sions as, for all the world, he durst not
again utter. In a fit of displeasure, he
said, “ Thou, O Lord, knowest that I have
been serving thee in the uprightness of my
heart, according to my power and measure;
nor have I stood in awe to declare thy
mind even unto the greatest in the time,
and thou seest that I take pleasure in this
child. O that I could obtain such a thing
at thy hand as to spare her I” And being
in great agony of spirit, at last it was said
to him from the Lord, “ I have heard thee
at this time, but use not the like boldness
in time coming, for such particulars.”
When he came home the child was re-
covered, and, sitting up in the bed, took
some meat: and when he looked at her
arm, it was perfectly whole.

JOHN WELGH.

JOHN WELCH was by birth a gentleman,
his father being laird of Collieston, in
Nithsdale, an estate rather competent than
large. He was born about the year 1570,
and throughout life was a rich instance of
divine grace and mercy, although with him
the night went before the day. He was a


very irregular, hopeless boy frequently

,_.._/
SCOTS WORTHIES.




running away front school, and playing
truant ; but, after he had past his grammar,
and was come to be an adult, he left his
studies, and his father’s house, and went
and joined himself to the thieves on the
English border, who lived by robbing the
two nations, and amongst them he staid till
he wore out a suit of clothes. When he
came to be clothed only with rags, the
prodigal’s misery brought him to the pro-
digal’s resolution: then he resolved to re-
turn to his father’s house, but durst not
venture till he should interpose a reconciler.
In his return homeward, he took Dumfries
in his way, where he had an aunt, one
Agnes Forsyth, and with her he spent some
days, earnestly entreating her to reconcile
him to his father. While he remained in
her house his father came providentially
to visit her; and after they had talked a
While, she asked him, whether he ever
heard any word of his son J ohn? To this
he replied with great grief, “ O cruel
woman, how can you name him to me l—
the first news I expect to hear of him is,
that he is hanged for a thief.” She
answered, “many a profligate boy had
become a virtuous man,” and thus com-
forted him. He insisted however, upon
his sad complaint; but asked, whether she
knew if his lost son was yet alive! She
answered, “ Yes; and hoped he should
prove a better man than he had been a
boy ;” and with that she called upon him to
come to his father. He came weeping, and
kneeled, beseeching his father, for Christ’s
sake, to pardon his misbehaviour, en-
gaging heartily to be a new man. His
father reproached and threatened him.
Yet at length, by his tears, and Mrs F or-
syth’s importunities, he was persuaded to a
reconciliation. The boy entreated his father
to send him to college, and there to try his
behaviour ; and if ever thereafter he should
break off, he said, he should be content that
his father should disclaim him for ever. His

father therefore took him home, and put him
to college, and there he became a diligent
student, of great expectation, and showed
himself a sincere convert; and so he pro-
ceeded to the ministry.
His first settlement was at Selkirk, while
he was yet very young, and the country
very uncivilized. While there, his ministry
was rather admired by some, than received
by many; for he was always attended with
the prophet’s shadow, the hatred of the
wicked: yea, even the ministers of that
country were more ready to pick a quarrel
with his person, than to follow his doctrine,
as appears to this day in their synodical
records, where we find he had many to
censure, and few to defend him; yet it was
thought his ministry in that place was not
without fruit, though his stay was but short.
Being unmarried, he lodged in the house
of one Mitchelhill, and took ayoung boy of
his to be his bedfellow, who to his dying day
retained the highest respect for Welch and
his ministry, fi~om the deep impression then
made upon his mind though but a child.
Welch’s custom was, when he went to bed
at night, to lay a Scots plaid above his bed-
clothes, that when he rose to his night
prayers, he might cover himself therewith;
for, from the beginning of his ministry till
his death, he reckoned the day ill spent, if
he stayed not seven or eight hours in
prayer: and this the boy did not forget
even to old age.
An old man of the name of Ewart, in
Selkirk, who remembered Welch’s being
in that place, said, he was a type of Christ;
an expression more magnificent than proper;
for his meaning was, that in heart and
life he imitated Christ, as indeed in many
things he did. He also said that his custom
was to preach publicly once every day.
and to spend his whole time in spiritual
exercises; that some in that place waited
well upon his ministry, with great ten-
derness; but that he was constrained to





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JOHN
WELCH. 285



leave that place, because of the malice of
the wicked.
The special cause of his departure was,
the enmity of a profane gentleman in the
country (Scott of Headschaw, whose family i
is now extinct), who, either because \Velch
had reproved him, or merely from malig-
nity, treated him most unworthily. Among
the rest of the injuries he did him, the
following is one of great cruelty. That
gentleman, either with his own hand, or by
those of his servants, cut off the rumps of
Welch’s two horses, in consequence of
which they both died. Such base usage
. as this persuaded him to listen to a call to
the ministry at Kirkcudbright, which was
his next station.
When about to leave Selkirk, he could
not find a man in all the town to transport
his furniture, except one Ewart, who was
at that time a poor young man, but master
of two horses, with which he transported
Welch’s goods, and so left him. As he
took his leave, Welch gave him his blessing,
and a piece of gold for a token, exhorting
him to fear God, and promised he should
never want; which saying Providence
made good through the whole course of
the man’s life, as was observed by all his
neighbours.f
* What a libel upon the Selkirk of that period 1
We need not say, that the modern Selkirk and the
delightful rural district around, though occupying
the same situation, and presenting the same features
of natural scenery as before, affords as striking a
moral contrast as can well be imagined or desired.
The hills and dales of that delightful country are as-
sociated now with emotions and feelings very
different from those which they formerly had a
tendency to awaken. The days of feudalism and
barbaric rudeness are long since gone, and in no
part of Scotland do we meet with finer specimens
of household godliness, and its uniform attendant,
disinterested hospitality, than in the classic and re-
ligious county of Selkirk.
Although the conduct of these people to Welch
while he resided amongst them, as their minister,
and especially the almost incredible heartlessness
which they evinced on his departure, appear to for-

At Kirkcudbright he stayed not long:
but there he reaped a harvest of converts
which subsisted long after his departure,
and were part of Samuel Rutherford’s
flock, though not his parish, while he was
minister at Anworth: yet when his call to
Ayr came to him, the people of the parish
of Kirkcudbright never offered to detain
him; so his translation thither was the
more easy.
While he was at Kirkcudbright, he met
with a young man in scarlet and silver lace,
whose name was Robert Glendinning,
newly returned from his travels ; whom he
very much surprised by telling him, he
behoved to change his garb, and way of
life, and betake himself to his studies, for
he should be his successor in the ministry
at Kirkcudbright. This accordingly came
to pass some time after.
Welch was translated to Ayr in 1590,
and there he continued till he was ban-
ished, in the year 1606. In that place he
had avery hard beginning but a very sweet
end; for when he came first to the town, the
country was so wicked, and the hatred of god-
liness so great, that there could not one in
all the town be found, who would let him a
house to dwell in. He was therefore con-
strained to accommodate himself the best
way he could in a part of a gentleman’s
house whose name was John Stuart, mer-
chant, and some time provost of Ayr, an emi- '
nent Christian, and great assistant of W'elch.
When he first took up his residence
in that town, it was so divided into factions,
- and disturbed with bloody conflicts, that
bid the supposition, may we not be permitted to
cherish the belief that his labours might not have
been altogether in vain ; and that the same Provi-
dence who afterwards raised up for them a succes-
sion of eminent spiritual labourers, the Bostons, the
Davidsons, and the Lawsons, prepared in some
measure by the previous labours of ‘Velcb, the
moral soil for the reception of that good seed
which these distinguished men were afterwards
instrumental in sowing?




286
SCOTS WORTHIES.

M

a man could hardly walk the streets with
safety. He therefore made it his first un-
dertaking, to remove these bloody quarrel-
lings, but he found it a very difficult work:
such, however, was his earnestness to pur-
sue his design, that many times he would
rush betwixt two parties of men fighting,
even in the midst of blood and wounds.
Upon these occasions he used to cover his
head with a helmet before he went to
separate the combatants, but would never
use a sword, that they might see he came
for peace, and not for war; and thus, by
little and little, he made the town a peace-
able habitation.
His manner was, after he had ended a
skirmish amongst neighbours, and recon-
ciled bitter enemies, to cause a table to be
covered upon the street, to which he brought
the enemies together; and, beginning with
prayer, he persuaded them to profess them-
selves friends, and to eat and drink together;
concluding the work by singing a psalm.
After these rude people began to observe
his example, and to listen to his heavenly
doctrine, he rose quickly to that respect
amongst them, that he became not only a
necessary counsellor, without whose advice
they would do nothing, but an example of
imitation.
He gave himself wholly to ministerial
exercises, preaching once every day, and
praying the third part of his time. He was
unwearied in his studies : as a proof of this,
it was found among his papers, that he had
abridged Suarez’s Metaphysicsj"= when well
stricken in years. By all which it appears,
* Had Dr M‘Crie not vindicated the presby-
terian ministers of this and the immediately suc-
ceeding age, from the charge of being illiterate
preferred against them by some distinguished
accusers, the instance before us might almost have
disposed us to take up the subject ourselves. Yet,
as it is, we cannot help observing that Welch study-
ing metaphysics, and that too, at an advanced
period of his life, gives an additional interest to his
history, while at the same time we find him only

that he was not only a man of great dili-
gence, but also of a strong and robust
natural constitution; otherwise he had
never endured the fatigue.
Sometimes before he went to sermon,
he would send for his elders, and tell them
he was afraid to go to church, because
he found himself sore deserted; and then
desiring one or more of them to pray, he
would venture to the pulpit. But it was
observed, that this humbling exercise used
ordinarily to be followed with extraordinary
assistance,-—so near neighbours often are
contrary dispositions and frames. He
would frequently retire to the church of
Ayr, which was at some distance from
the town, and there spend the whole night
in prayer; for he used to allow his affec-
tions full expression, and prayed not only
with an audible, but sometimes a loud voice.
There was in Ayr, at the time he came
to it, an aged man, a minister of the town,
called Porterfield, who was judged no bad
man for his personal inclinations, but so
easy in his disposition, that he used often
to go too great a length with his neighbours
in many improper practices; amongst the
rest, he used to go to the bow-butts and
archery on the Sabbath afternoon, to
Welch’s great dissatisfaction; and the
method he took to reclaim him was, not
by bitter severity, but gentle policy. He,
together with John Stuart, and Hugh
Kennedy, his intimate friends, used to
spend the Sabbath afternoon in religious
conference and prayer; and to this exercise
they invited Porterfield, which he could
not refuse,—by these means he was not only
diverted from his former sinful practice,
but likewise brought to a more watchful
and edif'ying behaviour in his course of life.
During his residence at Ayr, the Lord’s
day was greatly profaned at a gentleman’s
acting in consistency with the character assigned to
him and his persecuted brethren, by the biographer
of Knox.





JOHN WELCH.
287


house about eight miles distant, by reason
of a great confluence of people playing at
football, and other pastimes. After writ-
ing several times to him to suppress this
profanation at his house, Welch came one
day to his gate, and called him out to tell
him, that he had a message from God to
him ; that because he had slighted the
advice given him, the Lord would cast him
out of his house, and none of his posterity
should afterwards enjoy it, which accord-
ingly came to pass; for although he was
in good external circumstances at the time,
yet afterwards all things went against him,
until he was obliged to sell his estate; and
when giving the purchaser possession
thereof, he told his wife and children that
he had found Welch a true prophet.f
He married Elizabeth Knox, daughter
of the famous John Knox, the reformer, by
whom he had three sonsJL
* Vide \Velch’s dispute with Gilbert Brown the
Papist, in preface.
'l‘ The first was called Dr Welch, a doctor of
medicine, who was unhappily killed, upon an inno-
cent mistake in the Low Countries.
Another son he had most lamentably lost at sea;
for, when the ship in which he was, had sunk, he
swam to a rock in the sea, but starved there for
want of necessary food and refreshment ; and when
some time afterwards his body was found upon the
rock, they found him dead, in a praying posture,
upon his bended knees, with his hands stretched
out; and this was all the satisfaction his friends
and the World had upon his lamentable death.
Another he had, who was heir to his father's
graces and blessings ; and this was Josias Welch,
minister at Temple-patrick, in the north of Ireland,
commonly called the Cock of Conscience by the
people of that country, because of his extraor-
dinary awakening and rousing gift. He was one
of that blessed society of ministers, who wrought
that unparalleled work in the north of Ireland, about
the year 1636, but was himself a man most sadly
exercised with doubts about his own salvation all
his time; and would ordinarily say, that minister
was much to be pitied, who was called to comfort
weak saints, and had no comfort himself.
minister of Irongray in Galloway, the place of his

He died 1
in his youth, and left for his successor, John Welch, i
i the Lord called him by death, and there he was
grandfather’s nativity. What business this made ;
As the duty wherein Welch abounded
and excelled most was in prayer, so his
greatest attainments were in that duty,
He used to say, he wondered how a christian
could lie in bed all night, and not rise to
pray; and many times he rose, and watch-
ed unto prayer. One night having risen
from his wife, and gone into the next room,
where he staid so long at secret prayer,
that she fearing he might catch cold, was
constrained to rise and follow him: and,
as she listened, she heard him say as by
interrupted sentences, “ Lord, wilt thou not
grant me Scotland?” and, after a pause,
“ Enough, Lord, enough!” and so she re-
turned to her bed; and he following, she
asked him, what he meant by saying,
“ Enough, Lord, enough 1” He showed him-
self dissatisfied with her curiosity; but told
her he had been wrestling with the Lord for
Scotland, and found there was a sad time
at hand, but that the Lord would be graci-
ous to a remnant. This was about the time
when the bishops first overspread the land,
and corrupted the Church. The following,
in Scotland, in the time of the late episcopal perse~
cution, for the space of twenty years, is known to
all Scotland. He maintained his dangerous post
of preaching the gospel upon the mountains of
Scotland, notwithstanding of the threatenings of
the state, the hatred of the bishops, the price set
upon his head, and the fierce industry of his cruel
enemies. It is well known, that bloody Claver-
house, upon secret information from his spies, that.
John Welch was to be found in some lurking place
at forty miles’ distance, would make all that long
journey in one winter’s night, that he might catch
him; but when he came he always missed his prey.
\Ve never heard of a man that endured more toil.
ventured upon more, or escaped so much hazard,
not in the world. He used to tell his friends who
counselled him to be more cautious, and not to
hazard himself so much, that be firmly believed
dangerous undertakings would be his security ; and
that whenever he should giveover that course, and
retire, his ministry would come to an end; which
accordingly came to pass; for when, after the
battle of Bothwell bridge, he retired to London,
honourably interred. not far from the king’s palace.



288
SCOTS WORTHIES.






however, is more wonderful still: An honest
minister, who was Welch’s parishioner
many a day, said, “that one night as he
watched in his garden very late, and some
friends waiting upon him in his house, and
wearying because of his long stay, one of
them chanced to open a window towards the
place where he walked, and saw clearly a
strange light surround him, and heard him
speak strange words about his spiritual 0y.”
But though Welch had, upon the account of
his holiness, abilities, and success, acquired
a very great respect; yet was he never in
such admiration as after the great plague
which raged in Scotland in his time.
And one cause was this : the magistrates
of Ayr, forasmuch as the town alone was
free, and the country about infected, thought
fit to guard the ports with sentinels and
watchmen; when one day, two travelling
merchants, each with a pack of cloth upon
horseback, came to the town, desiring en-
trance, that they might sell their goods, pro-
ducing a pass from the magistrates of the
town from whence they came, which was at
that time sound and fi~ee. Notwithstanding
all this, the sentinels stopt them till the
magistrates were called ; who when they
came, would do nothing without their min-
ister’s advice; and so Welch was called,
and his opinion asked. He demurred, and,
putting off his hat, with his eyes raised
towards heaven for a short space, though he
uttered no audible words, continued in
a praying posture. Having broken silence,
he then told the magistrates they would do
well to discharge these travellers, affirming
with great asseveration, that the plague was
in their packs. The magistrates command-
ed them to be gone, and they went to Cum-
nock, a town about sixteen miles distant,
where they sold their goods; which spread
such an infection in the place that the
living were hardly able to bury the dead.
This made the people begin to look upon
Welch as an oracle: yet, as he walked

with God, and kept close with him, so he
forgot not man; for he used frequently to
dine abroad with such of his friends, as he
thought were persons with whom he might
maintain the communion of saints: and
once in the year, he used always to invite
all his familiar acquaintances in the town
to a treat in his house, where there was a
banquet of holiness and sobriety.
He continued the course of his ministry
in Ayr, till king James’ purpose of destroy_
ing the church of Scotland, by establishing
bishops, was ripe, and then he felt it to be
his duty to edify the church by his suffer—
ings, as he had formerly done by his doc-
trine.
The reason why king James was so
eager for the appointment of bishops, was
neither their divine institution, which he
denied they had; nor yet the profit the
church should reap by them, for he knew
well both the men and their manner; but
merely because he believed they were useful
instruments for turning a limited monarchy
into absolute dominion, and subjects into
slaves ; which of all things in the world he
minded most.
In pursuit of this design, he resolved in
the first place to destroy General Assem-
blies, knowing well that so long as these
might be convened in freedom, bishops
could never gain the ascendancy in Sect—
land: and the dissolution of Assemblies he
brought about in the following manner.
The General Assembly at Holyrood-
house, in 1602, with the king’s consent,
appointed their meeting to be held at Aber-
deen, the last Tuesday of July, 1604; but
before that day arrived, the king, by his
commissioner the laird of Laurieston, and
Patrick Galloway, moderator of the last
General Assembly, in a letter directed to
the several presbyteries, prorogued the
meeting till the first Tuesday of July
1605; and again, in June following, the ex-
pected meeting was, by a new letter from
A
JOHN
WELCH. 289



the king’s commissioner, and the commis-
sioners of the General Assembly, absolutely
discharged and prohibited, but without nam-
ing any day or place, for any other Assem-
bly; and thus the series of Assemblies
expired, never to be revived again in due
form, till the covenant was renewed in 1638.
However, many of the godly ministers of
Scotland—knowing well, that if once the
hedge of the government were broken, cor—
ruption of doctrine would soon follow—re-
solved not to give up their Assemblies so
quietly; and therefore a number of them
met at Aberdeen, upon the first Tuesday
of July 1605, being the last day distinctly
appointed by authority; and when they
had met, did no more than constitute and
dissolve. Amongst those was Welch, who,
‘ ' :;| lg,’ mil-I
‘in
/7_1


though not present upon the precise day,
yet because he came afterwards, and approv—
ed what his brethren had done, was accused
as guilty of the treasonable fact committed
‘by them.
Within a month after this meeting, many
of the godly men were incarcerated, some
in one prison, some in another. Welch
was sent first to Edinburgh tolbooth, and
then to Blackness; and so from prison to
prison, till he was banished to France, never
to see Scotland again.
And now the scene of his life begins to
change; but, before his sufferings, he had
the following warning.
After the meeting at Aberdeen was over,
he retired immediately to Ayr; and one
night having risen from his wife, and gone
[The Town of Ayr, in 1600.]
into his garden, as his custom was, he
staid longer than ordinary. This alarmed
and troubled his wife not a little, who, when
he returned, expostulated very hard with
him for staying so long to injure his health;
but he bade her be quiet, for it should yet

be well with them, although he knew
he should never preach more at Ayr: and
accordingly, before next Sabbath, he was
carried prisoner to Blackness castle. After
this, he, with many others who had met at
Aberdeen, were b2roought before the council


_..._._r_.. .<_,- _- _--_-_.-._____s_ .---_

290
SCOTS WORTHIES.



of Scotland at Edinburgh, to answer for
their rebellion and contempt, in holding a
General Assembly not authorized by the
king; and because they declined the secret
coun oil as judges competent in causes purely
spiritual, such as the nature and constitu-
tion of a General Assembly, they were re-
mitted to prison at Blackness, and other
places. Thereafter, six of the most con-
siderableif of them were brought by night
from Blackness to Linlithgow, before the
criminal judges, to answer to an accusation
of high treason, at the instance of Sir
Thomas Hamilton, the king’s advocate, for
declining, as he alleged, the king’s lawful
authority, in refusing to admit the council
as judges competent in the cause. After
their accusation and answer were read, they
were condemned as guilty of high treason,
by the verdict of a jury ; but the punishment
was deferred till the king’s pleasure should
be known, which some time after was
declared to be banishment.
While he was in Blackness, he wrote
his famous letter to Lilias Graham, coun-
tess of Wigton ; in which he expresses, in the
strongest terms, his consolation in suffer-
ing; his desire to be dissolved, that he
might be with the Lord; the judgments
“ Their trial,” says Dr M‘Crie, “was conducted
in the most illegal and unjust manner. The king’s
advocate told the jury, that the only thing which
came under their cognizance, was the fact of the
declinature, the judges having already found that
it was treasonable; and threatened them with an
assize of error if they did not proceed as he directed
them. After the jury were empannelled, the
justice clerk went in and threatened them with his
majesty’s displeasure, if they acquitted the pri-
soners. The greater part of the jurors being still
reluctant, the chancellor went out and consulted
with the other judges, who promised, that no pun-
ishment should be inflicted on the prisoners, pro-
vided the jury brought in a verdict agreeable to the
court. By such disgraceful methods, they were
induced at midnight to find by a majority of three,
that the prisoners were guilty; upon which they
were condemned to suffer the death of traitors.”


he foresaw coming upon Scotland; the
cause of their sufferings, and the true state
of the testimony, which he and his fellow
sufferers exhibited.
“ Who am 'I, that he should first have
called me, and then constituted me a min-
ister of the glad tidings of the gospel of
salvation these years past, and now, last of
all, to be a sufferer for his cause and king-
dom. Now, let it be so that I have fought
my fight, and run my race, henceforth there
is laid up for me that crown of righteous-
ness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge,
will give; not to me only, but to all that
love his appearing, and choose to witness
that Jesus Christ is the King of saints, and
that his Church is a free kingdom; yea as
free as any kingdom under heaven, not only
to convocate, hold, and keep her meetings,
and conventions, and Assemblies; but also
to judge all her affairs, in all her meetings
and conventions, amongst her members and
subjects. These two points ; 1. That Christ
is the head of the church; 2. That she is
free in her government fi'om all other juris-
diction except Christ’s :-— These two points,
I say, are the special cause of our imprison-
ment; being new convicted as traitors for
maintaining the same. We have been
ever waiting with joyfulness to give the
last testimony of our blood in confirmation
thereof, if it should please our God to be
so favourable, as to honour us with that
dignity; yea, I do affirm, that these two
points above written, and all other things
which belong to Christ’s crown, sceptre,
and kingdom, are not subject, nor can be,
to any other authority, but to His only,—
so that I would be most glad to be offered
up as a sacrifice for so glorious a truth. It
would be to me the most glorious day, and
the gladdest hour I ever saw in this life;
but I am in his hand, to do with me what—
soever he shall please.
“ I am also bound and sworn, by a special
covenant, to maintain the doctrine and dis-




JOHN WELCH.
291


cipline thereof, according to my vocation
and power, all the days of my life, under
all the pains contained in the book of God,
and danger of body and soul, in the day
of God’s fearful judgment ; and therefore,
though I should perish in the cause, yet
will I speak for it, and to my power defend
it, according to my vocation.”
He wrote about the same time to Sir
William Livingstone of Kilsyth. There
are some prophetical expressions in that
letter worthy of notice.
“ As for that instrument, Spottiswood,
We are sure the Lord will never bless that
man, but a malediction lies upon him, and
shall accompany all his doings ; and it may
be, Sir, your eyes shall see as great confu-
sion covering him, ere he go to his grave,
as ever did his predecessors. Now, surely,
Sir, I am far from bitterness; but here I
denounce the wrath of an everlasting God
against him, which assuredly shall fall, ex-
cept it be prevented. Sir, Dagon shall
not stand before the ark of the Lord ; and
these names of blasphemy that he wears,
of arch and lord bishop, will have a fearful
end. Not one beck is to be given to Ha-
man, suppose he were as great a courtier
as ever he was; suppose the decree were
given out, and sealed with the king’s ring,
deliverance will come to us elsewhere and
not by him, who has been so sore an instru-
ment, not against our persons, (that were
nothing, for I protest to you, Sir, in the
sight of God, I forgive him all the evil he
has done, or can do,to me), but unto Christ’s
poor kirk, in stamping under foot so glori-
ous a kingdom and beauty, as was once in
this land. He has helped to cut Sam-
son’s hair, and to expose him to mocking;
but the Lord will not be mocked. He
shall be cast away as a stone out of a sling;
his name shall rot; and amalediction shall
fall upon his posterity after he is gone.
Let this, Sir, be a monument of it, that it
was told before, that when it shall come to

pass, it may be seen there was warning
given him. And therefore, Sir, seeing I
have not the access myself, if it would
please God to move you, I wish you would
deliver this hand-message to him, not as
from me, but from the Lord.”
Spottiswood, of whom he thus complains,
was at the time archbishop of Glasgow; and
these predictions were punctually accom-
plished, though after a period of forty
years: for, first, the bishop himself died in
a strange land, and, as many say, in misery;
next, his son Robert Spottiswood, sometime
president of the Court of Session, was
beheaded by the parliament of Scotland,
at the market cross of St Andrews, in
the winter after the battle of Philiphaugh,
which many thousands witnessed; and,
when coming upon the scaffold, Blair,the
minister of the town told him, that now
Welch’s prophecy was fulfilled; to which
he replied in anger, that both Welch and
he were false prophets.
But before leaving Scotland, there are
other remarkable passages in his life
worthy of being remembered. And, first,
when the dispute about church government
began to grow warm, as he was walking
upon the streets of Edinburgh, betwixt two
honest citizens, he told them, “ they had in
their town two great ministers, who were
no great friends to Christ’s cause at present
in controversy, but it should be seen, the
world should never hear of their repent-
ance.” The two men were Patrick Gal-
loway and John Hall; who both died
suddenly and unobserved, without one to
witness or soothe their dying moments.
He was some time prisoner in Edin-
burgh castle before he went into exile;
where, one night sitting at supper with
lord Ochiltree, who was his wife’s uncle,
Welch, as his manner was, entertained
the company with godly and edifying dis-
course, which was well received by all the
company except a debauched popish young



292
SCOTS WORTHIES.







gentleman, who sometimes laughed, and
sometimes mocked, and made wry faces.
Grieved at such conduct, Welch broke
out into an abrupt charge upon all the
company to be silent, and observe the work
of the Lord upon that profane mocker;
upon which the wretched man sunk down
and died beneath the table, to the great.
astonishment of all present.
Another wonderful story is told of him
at the same time:-—Lord Ochiltree, hav-
ing been for a long time, through the
multitude of affairs, kept from visiting him
in his chamber, he, as he was one day walk-
ing in the court, having observed Welch
at his window, asked him kindly, how he
did, and if in anything he could serve him ?
Welch answered, he would earnestly entreat
his lordship, being at that time to go to
court, to petition king James in his name,
that he might have liberty to preach the
gospel; which my lord promised to do.
Welch then added, “ My lord, both because
you are my kinsman, and for other reasons,
I would earnestly entreat and obtest you
not to promise, except you faithfully per-
form.” His lordship answered, he would
faithfully perform his promise; and so
went for London. But though, at his first
arrival, he really purposed to present the
petition, he found the king in such a rage
against the condemned ministers, that he
durst not at that time present it; and
therefore thinking fit to delay, he entirely
forgot it.
The first time that Welch saw him
after his return from court, he asked him
what he had done with his petition. His
lordship answered, he had presented it to
the king; but that his majesty was in so
great a rage against the ministers at that
time, he believed it hadbeen forgotten, for he
had got no answer. Nay, said Welch to

‘families, to bid them farewell?‘
him, “ My lord, you should not lie to God, ‘
and to me, for I know you never delivered
to undertake it except you would perform
it; but because you have dealt so unfaith-
fully, remember God will take from you
both estate and honours, and give them to
your neighbour in your own time”—-which
accordingly came to pass; for, both his estate
and honours were in his own time trans-
ferred to James Stuart, a cadet, but not
the lineal heir of the family.
While he was detained prisoner in Edin~
burgh castle, his wife used for the most
part to be with him; but upon a time she
fell into a longing to see her family in Ayr,
to which with some difficulty he yielded.
When she was about to take her journey,
he strictly charged her not to take the
ordinary way to her own house, when she
came to the town; but to pass the river
above the bridge, and so get home with—
out going into the town; “ for,” said he,
“before you come thither, you shall find
the plague broken out in Ayr,” which ac~
cordingly came to pass.
The plague was at that time very terri~
ble, and his being necessarily separate fi~om
his people, it was to him the more grievous.
When his parishioners came to him to be-
moan themselves, his answer was, that
“ Hugh Kennedy, a godly gentleman in
their town, should pray for them, and God
would hear him.” This counsel they ac~
cepted, and the gentleman, convening a
number of the honest citizens, prayed
earnestly for the town, and the plague
decreased.
The time being come when he must
leave Scotland, never to see it again,
he, upon the 7th of November 1606, in the
morning, with his brethren took ship at
Leith; and though it was but two o’clock,
many were waiting with their afflicted
After
* With Welch, other five godly ministers were
banished for the same cause, viz., John Forbes, who
went to Middleburgh, to the English chapel there ;
it, though I warned you to take heed not Robert Dury, who went to Holland, and was min-


JOHN WELCH.
293


__,
prayer, they sang the 23rd Psalm, and to
the great grief of the spectators, set sail for
the south of France, and landed in the river
of Bourdeaux. Such was the Lord’s bless-
ing upon his diligence, that within fourteen
weeks after his arrival he was able to
preach in French, and accordingly was
not long in being called to the ministry;
first in a village, called Nerac, and there-
after in St Jean d’Angely, a considerable
walled town; where he continued the rest
of the time he sojourned in France, which
was about sixteen years. When he began
to preach, it was observed by some of his
hearers, that while he continued in the
doctrinal part of his sermon, he spoke very
correct French; but when he came to the
application, when his affections kindled,
his fervour made him sometimes neglect
the accuracy of the French construction.
There were some godly young men who
admonished him of this, which he took
in very good part; and to prevent mis-
takes afterwards, he desired them, when
they perceived him beginning to trespass,
to give him a signal, viz., by standing up:
thereafter he became more accurate in
his expression through the whole sermon ;
so desirous was he, not only to deliver
good matter, but to recommend it by cor-
rect language.
In his auditory, there were frequently
persons of great rank, before whom he
was as bold as ever he had been in a
Scottish village ; which led Boyd of Troch-
rig once to ask him—after he had preached
before the university of Saumur, with as
much boldness and authority, as if he had
been before the meanest congregation—how
he could be so confident among strangers,
ister to the Scots congregation in Leyden; John
Sharp, who became minister and professor of
Divinity at Die in the Dauphinate; and Andrew
Duncan and Alexander Strachan, who, in about a
Year after, got liberty to return to their former
places.- Calderwood’s Hist.

and persons of such dignity? T 0 which
he answered, that he was so filled with the
dread of God, he had no apprehensions
from man at all. This reply, said Boyd,
“ did not remove my admiration, but rather
increased it.”
There was in his house, amongst many
others who boarded with him for good
education, a young gentleman of great
quality, and suitable expectations, the heir
of Lord Ochiltree, captain of the castle of
Edinburgh. This young nobleman, after
he had gained very much upon Welch’s
affections, fell ill of a grievous sickness, and
after he had been long wasted with it, he
to the apprehension of all spectators, closed
his eyes, and expired. He was therefore
taken out of his bed, and laid on a pallet
on the floor, that his body might be more
conveniently dressed. This was to Welch
a great grief, and therefore he stayed with
the dead body full three hours, lamenting
over him with great tenderness. After
twelve hours, the friends brought in a
coffin, and desired the corpse might be put
into it, as the custom was; but Welch re—
quested that, for his satisfaction, they would
forbear it for a time. This they granted,
and did not return till twenty-four hours
after his death. They then desired, with
great importunity, that the corpse might
be coffined and speedily buried, the weather
being extremely hot. The good man still
persisted, however, in his request, and
earnestly begged them to excuse him once
more; so they left the corpse upon the
pallet for full thirty-six hours: but even
after that, as he urged not only with
great earnestness, but with some displea—
sure, they were constrained to forbear for
twelve hours more. After forty-eight
hours were past, he still held out against
them; and then his friends, perceiving
that he believed the young man was not
really dead, but under some fit, proposed
to him, for satisfaction, that trial should be




294
SCOTS WORTHIES.



‘made upon his body if possibly any spark
of life might be found in him; to which
he agreed. The doctors accordingly were
set to work; they pinched him in the fleshy
parts of his body, and twisted a bow-string
about his head with great force; but no
sign of life appearing, they pronounced
him dead, and then there was no more
delay to be made.
them once more that they would but step
into the next room for an hour or two, and
leave him with the dead youth; and this
they granted. He then fell down before
the pallet, and cried to the Lord, with all
his might, and sometimes looking upon the
dead body, he continued to wrestle with
the Lord, till at length the youth opened
his eyes, and cried out to Welch, whom he
distinctly knew, “ O Sir, I am all whole,
but my head and legs!” These were the
places hurt with the pinching. When
Welch perceived this, he called his fi~iends,
and showed them the dead man restored
to life again, to their great astonishment.
This young nobleman, though he lost
the estate of Ochiltree, lived to inherit
one not inferior in Ireland, became lord
Castlestuart, and was a man of such ex-
cellent parts, that he was courted by the
earl of Stafford to be a counsellor in Ire-
land. This, however, he refused, till the
godly silenced Scottish ministers, who suf-
fered under the bishops in the north of
Ireland, were restored to the exercise of
their ministry. He then engaged, and
continued during his whole life; not only
in honour and power, but in the profession
and practice of godliness, to the great com-
fort of the country where he lived. This
story the nobleman himself communicated
to his friends in Ireland.
While Welch was minister in one of the
before mentioned places, a certain popish
friar upon an evening travelling through the
country, because he could not find a lodg-
ing in the whole village, addressed himself
Yet Welch begged of '

to his house for a night. The servants
acquainted their master, and he was willing
to receive him. The family had supped
before he came, and so the servants showed
the friar to his chamber, and after they
had made his supper, left him to his rest.
There was but a wooden partition betwixt
his room and that of Welch; and, after
the friar awoke from his first sleep, he was
surprised at hearing a constant whisper~
ing noise.
Next morning as he walked in the
fields, he chanced to meet with a country-
man, who, saluting him because of his
habit, asked him, where he had lodged
that night? The friar answered, he had
lodged with the Hugonot minister. The
countryman then asked him, what enter-
tainment he had had; to which the friar
answered; very bad: for, said he, I always
held, that devils haunted these ministers’
houses, and I am persuaded there was one
with me last night; for I heard a contin-
ual whisper, and I believe it was noth-
ing else than the minister and the devil
conversing together. The countryman told
him he was much mistaken, and that
it was nothing else than the minister
at his nightly prayers. “O,” said the
friar, “does the minister pray ?” “ Yes,
more than any man in France,” answered
the countryman; “ and if you please to
stay another night with him, you may be
satisfied.” The friar accordingly went
back to Welch’s, and, pretending indis-
position, entreated another night’s lodging,
which was granted him.
Before dinner, Welch came from his
chamber, and made his family exercise,
according to custom. He first sang a
psalm, then read a portion of Scripture,
and discoursed upon it; and thereafter
prayed with great fervour; to all which
the friar was an astonished witness. After
exercise they went to dinner, where the
friar was very civilly entertained. Welch





JOHN WELCH.
295



forbearing all question and dispute with
him for the time. When the evening
came, Welch made exercise as he had
done in the morning, which occasioned
more wonder to the friar. After supper
they went to bed, and the friar longing
much to know what the night whisper was,
was soon satisfied; for after Welch’s first
sleep, the sound began. Resolving to be
certain what it was, he crept silently to
Welch’s chamber door, where he heard not
only the sound, but the words, distinctly,
and had an example of communion betwixt
God and man, such as he thought had not
been in this world. The next morning,
as soon as Welch was ready, the friar went
to him, and said, that he had lived in
ignorance the whole of his life, but now
he was resolved to venture his soul with
him, and thereupon declared himself a
protestant. Welch welcomed and en-
couraged him; and he continued a protes-
tant to his death
When Louis XIII. king of France,
made war upon the protestants because
of their religion, the city of St Jean
d’Angely was besieged by him with his.
whole army, and brought into extreme
danger. Welch was minister of the town
at the time, and mightily encouraged the
citizens to hold out, assuring them that
God would deliver them. In the time of
the siege, a cannon ball pierced the bed
where he was lying; upon which he got
up, but would not leave the room, till
he had by solemn prayer acknowledged
his deliverance. The townsmen made a
stout defence, till one of the king’s can-
noniers planted a gun so conveniently
upon a rising ground, that he could com-
mand the whole wall, upon which the
inhabitants for the most part were station-
ed. By this they were constrained to
abandon their post, though they had several
guns there; for no man durst undertake to
manage them, until Welch prevailed upon

the principal gunner to remount the wall,
promising to assist him in person. The
cannonier told him, that they behoved to
dismount the gun upon the rising ground,
else they were surely lost. Welch desired
him to aim well, that he would serve, and
God would help him. ‘T he gunner fell to
work, and W'elch ran to fetch powder for
a charge; but as he was returning, the
king’s gunner fired his piece, which carried
the ladle with the powder out of his hands.
This did not discourage him; for having
lost the ladle, he filled his hat with powder,
wherewith the cannonier dismounted the
king’s gun at the first shot, and the citizens
returned to their post of defence.
This disappointed the king so much,
that he sent to the citizens to offer them
conditions, viz ;-—that they should enjoy
the liberty of their religion, and their civil
privileges; that their walls should not be
demolished; and that the king only desired
to enter the city in a friendly manner with
his servants. This the city thought fit to
grant, and the king, with a few more,
entered the city for a short time. While
the king was in the city, Welch preached
as usual. This offended the French court;
and while he was at sermon, the king sent
the duke de Esperon to fetch him out of
the pulpit into his presence. The duke
went with his guard, but when he entered
the church, Welch commanded to make
way, and to place a seat, that the duke
might hear the word of the Lord. The
duke, instead of interrupting him, sat down,
and gravely heard the sermon to an end;
and then told Welch, he behoved to go
with him to the king; which he willingly
did. When the duke returned, the king
asked him, why he had not brought
the minister with him, and why he did
not interrupt him ? The duke answered,
that never man spake like this man: but
that he had brought him along with him.
Upon this Welch was called. When he



‘296
SCOTS WORTHIES.








had entered the king’s room, he kneeled,
and silently prayed for wisdom and assist-
ance. The king then challenged him, how
he durst preach in that place, since it was
against the laws of France that any man
should preach within the verge of his
court? Welch answered, “ Sire, if you
did right, you would come and hear me
preach, and make all France hear me like-
wise. For,” said he, “ I preach, that you
must be saved by the death and merits of
Jesus Christ, and not your own; and I
preach, that as you are king of France,
you are under the authority of no man on
earth. Those men whom you hear sub-
ject you to the pope of Rome, which I will
never do.” The king replied, “ Well, well,
you shall be my minister!” and having
dismissed the good man he left the city
Without molestation.
A short time after, in 1621, the war
having been renewed, Welch told the in-
habitants of the city, that their cup was full,
and they should no more escape. This ac-
cordingly came to pass; for the king took
the town, but commanded de Vitry, the
captain of his guard, to enter and pre-
serve his minister from all danger. Horses
and wagons were provided by his order, to
transport Welch and his family to R0-
chelle, where he sojourned for a time. ~
His flock in France being thus scattered,
he obtained liberty to return to England in
the year following. His fi‘iends entreated
that he might be permitted to repair to
Scotland, the physicians having declared
that there was no other hope of preserv-
ing his life, but the enjoyment of his
native air. To this, however, king James
would not accede, protesting he would be
unable to establish episcopacy in Scotland,
if Welch were permitted to return thither.”
‘3* “ His own sovereign was incapable of treating
him (Welch) with that generosity which he had
experienced from the French monarch ; and dread-
ing the influence of a man who was far gone with ,

He continued therefore to languish in Lon
don a considerable time: his disease was
regarded by some as a sort of leprosy, and
the physicians declared he had received
poison. A distressing languor pervaded
his frame, together with a great weakness
in his knees, caused by his kneeling at
prayer, in consequence of which, though
he was able to move them and to walk, the
flesh became hard and insensible, almost
like a horn. But when, in the time of
his weakness, he was desired to remit in
some degree his excessive painfulness, his
answer was, he had his life from God, and
therefore it should be spent in his service.
His friends importuned the king exceed-
ingly, that if he might not return to Scot-
land, he might at least have liberty to
preach in London; but even this he would
not grant till he heard all hopes of life
were past, not then fearing his activity.
As soon however, as he heard he might
preach, he eagerly embraced the liberty;
a consumption, he absolutely refused to give llllf‘
permission to return to Scotland. Mrs Welch,
by means of some of her mother‘s relations at
court, obtained access to James, and petitioned
him to grant this liberty to her husband. The
following singular conversation took place on that
occasion. His majesty asked her who was ill!
father. She replied, ‘Mr Knox.’ ‘Knox and
Welch,’ exclaimed he, ‘the devil never made such
a match as that.’ ‘ It’s right likely, Sir,’ said she,
‘ for we never spcired his advice.’ He asked her
how many children her father had left, and if they
were lads or lasses. She said three, and they were
all lasses. ‘ God be thanked,’ cried the king, lifting
up both his hands, ‘for. an they had been three
lads, I had never bruiked my three kingdoms in
peace.’ She again urged her request, that he
would give her husband his native air. ‘ Give
him his native air!’ replied the king ‘give him
the devil l’-—a morsel which James had often in
his mouth. ‘ Give that to your hungry courtiers l’—
said she, offended at his profaneness. He told her
at last, that if she would persuade her husband to
submit to the bishops, he would allow him to re-
turn to Scotland. Mrs Welch lifting up her apron
and holding it toward the king, replied in the true
spirit of her father, ‘ Please your majesty, I’d rather
kep his head there !”’-Dr M‘ Crie.




JOHN WELCH.
297



and having access to a lecturer’s pulpit, he
went and preached both long and fervently.
This proved to be his last service ; for, after
he had ended his sermon, he returned to his
chamber, and within two hours, quietly and
without pain, resigned his spirit into his
Maker’s hands, in the 53rd year of his age.
During his last sickness, he was so filled
and overcome with the sensible enjoyment
of God, that he was overheard to utter
these words; “ O Lord, hold thy hand; it
is enough, thy servant is a clay vessel, and
can hold no more 1”
Great as his diligence undoubtedly was,
it may be doubted whether his labours or
his success were most abundant; for
whether his spiritual experience in seek-
ing the Lord, or his fruitfulness in convert-
ing souls, be considered, they will be found
unparalleled in Scotland. Many years
after his death, David Dickson, at that
time-a highly esteemed minister at Irvine,
was frequently heard to say, when people
talked to him of his own success in the
ministry, “that the grape-gleaning at Ayr
in Welch’s time, was far above the vintage
at Irvine in his own.” Welch, in his
preaching, was spiritual and searching; his
utterance was tender and moving; he did
not much insist upon scholastic topics, and
made no show of his learning. One of
his hearers, who was afterwards minister
at Muirkirk in Kyle, used to say, “that no
man could hear him, and forbear weeping,”
his speech was so affecting.
There is a large volume of his sermons
yet extant, though only afew of them have
been printed. He never himself published
anything, except his dispute with Abbot
Brown, in which he shows that his learn-
ing was not behind his other virtues; and
his Armageddon} or Meditations upon the
‘ enemies of the church, and their destruc-
tion ; a piece which is rarely to be found.
"’ Mountain of Megiddo,—or hill of robbers.

TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN WELCH.
“ My desire to remain here is not great,
knowing that so long as I am in this house
of clay, I am absent from the Lord: and
if it were dissolved, I look for a build-
ing not made with hands, eternal in the
heavens. In this I groan, desiring to be
clothed upon with my new house which is
in heaven: if so be, that being clothed, I
shall not be found naked. For I that am
within this tabernacle, do oft-times groan
and sigh within myself, being oft-times
burdened; not that I would be un-
clothed, but clothed upon, that mortality
might be swallowed up of life. I long to
eat the fruit of that tree which is planted
in the midst of the paradise of God; and
to drink of the pure river, clear as crystal,
that runs through the streets of the new
Jerusalem. I know that my Redeemer
liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter
day upon the earth: and that though after
my skin worms devour my body, yet in my
flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see
for myself, and not another, and mine eyes
shall behold him, though my reins be con-
sumed within me. I long to be refreshed
in company with the souls of them that
are under the altar, who were slain for the
word of God and the testimony which they
held; and to have the long white robe
given me, that I may walk in white with
those glorious saints, who have washed
their garments and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb. Why should I
think it a strange thing to be removed
fi~om this place to that wherein is my hope,
my joy, my crown, my eldest Brother, my
Head, my Father, my Comforter, and all
the glorified saints; and where the song of
Moses and of the Lamb is sung joyfully ;.
where we shall n3 longer be compelled to
and
___1
298
SCOTS WORTHIES.


sit by the rivers of Babylon, and hang our
harps upon the willows, but shall take
them and sing the new halleluj ah—Blessin g,
and honour, and glory, and power, to him
that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb
for ever! What is under this old vault of
the heavens, and in this old worn-out earth,
(which is under the bondage of corruption,
groaning and travailing in pain, and as it
were still shooting out the head, looking,
waiting, and longing for the redemption of
the sons of God) what is there I say, that
should make me remain here? I expect
that new heaven, and that new earth,
wherein dwelleth righteousness, and where—
in I shall dwell for evermore. I look to
get entry into the new Jerusalem, at one
of those twelve gates whereupon are written
the names of the twelve tribes of Israel.
I know that Christ Jesus hath prepared
room for me; why may I not then, with
boldness in his blood, step into that glory,
into which my Head and Lord had gone
before me? Jesus Christ is the Door and
the Porter, who then shall hold me out?
Will he let them perish for whom he died?
“7 ill he let that poor sheep be plucked out
of his hand for which he hath laid down
his life? Who shall condemn the man
whom God hath justified ? \Yho shall lay
anything to the charge of the man for
whom Christ hath died, or rather risen
again? I know I have grievously trans-
gressed; but where sin abounded, grace
hath superabounded. I know my sins are
red as scarlet and crimson; yet the blood
of Christ my Lord can make me as white
as snow and as wool. Whom have I in
heaven but him, or whom desire I in earth
beside him? O thou, the fairest among
the children of men, the light of the Gen-
tiles, the glory of the Jews, the life of the
dead, the joy of angels and saints, my soul
panteth to be with thee! I will put my
it out of thy presence.


spirit into thy hands, and thou wilt not put .
I will come unto _
thee; for thou castest none away that come
unto thee, O thou only delight of mankind.
Thou camest to seek and save that which
was lost. Thou, seeking me, hast found
me: and now being found by thee, I hope,
O Lord, thou wilt not let me perish. I
desire to be with thee, and do long for the
fruition of thy blessed presence, and joy of
thy countenance. Thou the only good
Shepherd, art full of grace and truth;
therefore, I trust, thou wilt not thrust me
out of the door of thy presence and grace.
The law was given by Moses, but grace
and truth came by Thee. Who shall
separate me from thy love ? Shall tribu-
lation, or distress, or persecution, or famine,
or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Nay, in
all these things I am more than conqueror
through thy majesty who hath loved me.
For I am persuaded that neither death nor
, life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers,
nor height,nor depth,nor things present,nor
things to come, nor any other creature, is able
to separate me from the love of the majesty
which is in Christ Jesus, my Lord. I re-
fuse not to die with thee, that I may live
with thee. I refuse not to suffer with thee,
that I may rejoice with thee. Shall not
all things be pleasant to me, which may be
my last step, by which, or upon which, I
may come unto thee. When shall I be
satiated with thy face ? When shall I be
drunk with thy pleasures? Come, Lord
Jesus, and tarry not. The Spirit saith
come. The Bride saith come. Even so,
Lord Jesus, come quickly, and tarry not.
“ Why should the multitude of mine
iniquities, or the greatness of them affright
me? Why should I faint in this mine
adversity to be with thee? The greater
sinner I have been, the greater glory will
be thy grace to me, unto all eternity. O
unspeakable joy, endless, infinite, and
bottomless compassion! O ocean of never-
fading pleasure! O love of love ! O
the height, and the depth, and breadth, and

LA
JOHN WELCH.
299


length of that love of thine that passeth
knowledge! 0 uncreated love! Begin-
ning without beginning, and ending with-
out an end! Thou art my glory, my joy,
my gain, and my crown. Thou hast set
me under thy shadow with great delight,
and thy fruit is sweet unto my taste. Thou
' hast brought me into thy banqueting-house,
and placed me in thine orchard. Stay me
with thy flagons, and comfort me with
thine apples: for I am sick, and my soul
is wounded with thy love. Behold, thou
art fair, my love: behold, thou art fair,
thou hast dove’s eyes! Behold thou art
fair, my love; yea, pleasant also: our bed
is green! The beams of our house are
cedars, and our rafters are ‘of fir. How
fair and how pleasant art thou! 0 love
for delights! my heart is ravished with
thee. 0 when shall I see thy face ? How
long wilt thou delay to be to me as a roe,
or a young hart, leaping upon the moun-
tains, and skipping upon the hills? As a
bundle of myrrh be thou unto me, and lie
all night between my breasts. Because of
the savour of thy good ointments, thy name
is as an ointment poured out; therefore,
desire I to go out of the desert, and through
, to the place where thou sittest at thy re-
pose, and where thou makest thy flocks
to rest at noon. When shall I be filled
with thy love ? Certainly, if a man knew
how precious it were, he could count all
things dross and dung to gain it. I would
long for that scaffold, or that axe, or that
cord, that might be to me the last step of
this my wearisome journey, to go to thee
my Lord. Thou, who knowest the meaning
of the spirit, give answer to the speaking,
sighing, and groaning of the spirit within
me. Thou, who hast inflamed my heart to
speak to thee in this silent, yet love-lan-
guage of ardent and fervent desire, speak
again unto my heart, answer my desires,
which thou hast made me speak to thee.
0 death! where is thy sting? O grave!

where is thy victory ? The sting of death
‘is sin, and the strength of sin is the law:
but thanks be to God, that giveth me the
victory, through my Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ. What can be troublesome
to me, since my Lord looks upon me with
so amiable a countenance? And how
greatly do I long for these embracements
of my Lord! 0 that he would kiss me
with the kisses of his mouth: for his love
is better than wine ! O that my soul were
the throne whereon he might sit eternally!
O that my heart were the temple wherein
he might be magnified and dwell for ever!
Who am I that he should first have
called me, and then constitute me a min-
ister of the glad tidings of the gospel of
salvation these years already, and now last
of all to be a sufferer for his cause and
kingdom. Now let it be so, that I have
fought my fight, and run my race, and now
from henceforth is laid up for me that
crown of righteousness, which the Lord
that righteous God will give, and not to
me only, but to all that love his appearance,
and choose to witness this, that Jesus
Christ is the King of saints, and that his
church is a most free kingdom, yet as free
as any kingdom under heaven, not only to
convocate, hold, and keep her meetings,
and conventions and assemblies; but also
to judge of all her affairs, in all her meet--
ings and conventions amongst her members
and subjects. These two points, First,
That Christ is the head of his church;
Secondly, that she is free in her govern-
ment from all other jurisdiction except
Christ’s; these two points, I say, are the
special cause of our imprisonment, being
now convict as traitors for the maintaining
thereof: we have been ever waiting with
joyfulness to give the last testimony of our
blood in confirmation thereof, if it should
please our God to be so favourable as to
honour us with that dignity: yea, I do
affirm, that these two points above written,



300
SCOTS W Olt'l‘HlES.




and all other things which belong to
Christ’s crown, sceptre, and kingdom, are‘
not subject, nor cannot be, to any other
authority, but to his own altogether. So
that I would be most glad to be offered up
a sacrifice for so glorious a truth: but
alas! I fear that my sins and the abuse of
so glorious things as I have found, deprive
me of so fair a crown; yet my Lord doth
know, if he should call me to it, and
strengthen me in it, it would be to me the
most glorious day, and the gladdest hour,
I ever saw in this life; but I am in his
hand to do with me whatsoever shall please
his Majesty. It may suffice me I have
had so long a time in the knowledge of the
gospel, and that I have seen, and heard
the things that I have heard, and through
the grace of God, I have been so long a
witness of these glorious and good news,
in my weak ministry, and that my witness-
ing hath not been altogether without fruit
and blessing; so that I hope at that day, I
shall have him to be my crown, my glory, my
joy, and reward, and therefore boldly I say
with Simeon,--Lord, now lettest thou thy
servant depart in peace; not in a peaceable
dying in my bed, but by rendering up to
him my spirit, and the sealing and stamping
this truth with my blood. I desire not to
have it remedied—but let my Lord’s will be
done.
“ The guilt of our‘ blood shall not only
lie upon our prince, but also upon our own
brethren, bishops, counsellors, and com-
missioners; it is they, even they that have
stirred up our prince against us ; we must ‘
therefore lay the blame and burden of our
blood upon them especially, however the
rest above written be partakers of their sins
with them: and as to the rest of our
brethren, who either by silence approve, or
by crying-Peace, Peace, strengthen the
arm of the wicked, that they cannot return,
in the mean time make the hearts of the !
righteous sad, they shall all in like manner

be guilty of high treason against the King
of kings, the Lord Jesus Christ, his crown
and kingdom.
“ Next unto them, all our commissioners,
chancellor, president, comptroller, advocate ;
and next unto them, all that first or last
sat in council, and did not bear plain testi-
mony for Jesus Christ and his kingdom,
for which we do suffer. And next unto
them, all those who should have at present,
and who should at such times have come,
and made open testimony of Christ faith-
fully, although it had been contrary to plain
law, and with the hazard of their lives.
When the poor Jews were in such danger,
that nothing was expected but utter de-
struction, queen Esther, after three days’
fasting, concluded thus with herself, ‘ I
will,’ said she, ‘ go in to the king,’ though
it be not according to law, ‘ and if I perish
I perish,’ Esther ix. 16. With this re-
solution, such as are born counsellors,
should have said, Christ’s kingdom is now
in my hand, and I am bound, also, and
sworn, by a special covenant, to maintain
the doctrine and discipline thereof, accord-
ing to my vocation and power, all the days
of my life; under all the pains contained
in the book of God, and danger of body
and soul, in the day of God’s fearful judg-
ment ; and therefore, though I should perish
in the cause, yet will I speak for it, and to
my power defend it, according to my voca-
tion. Finally, all those that counsel, com-
mand, consent, and allow, are guilty in the
sight of God. But the mourners for these
evils, and the faithful of the land, and those
who are unfeignedly grieved in heart, for
all these abominations, those shall be
marked as not guilty, Ezek. ix.
“ I know not whether I shall have occa-
sion to write again; and therefore, by this
letter, as my latter will and testament, I
give testimony, warning, and knowledge of
these things to all men, according to the
Lord’s direction to the prophet, ‘ Son of


ROBERT BOYD.
301


man, I have made thee a watchman,’ Ezek.
xxxiii. 7. &c. Therefore I give warning
to all men hereby, that no man’s blood be
required at my hand. Thus desiring the
help of your prayers, with my humble com-

mendations and service in Christ, to my
lord, your husband, and all the saints there,
the messenger of peace be with you all for
evermore. Amen. Yours to my full
power, for the time Christ’s prisoner.”

ROBERT BOYD.

ROBERT BOYD of Trochrig, was born in
1578, in the city of Glasgow. When three
years old, his father, who was archbishop
there, died ; and the superintendence of his
early education devolved on his mother.
Having retired to the family estate of
Trochrig, in the neighbourhood of Ayr,
she sent her son to the grammar school,
to be taught the rudiments of the Latin
tongue ; and after some time removed with
him to Edinburgh. He studied philosophy
at the university of that city, and had the
degree of Master of Arts conferred on him,
about the year 1594. Robert Rollock
was then principal of the university; and
had appointed Mr Charles F erme to be
teacher of philosophy; and from him Boyd
early imbibed that branch of learning which
he afterwards taught with so much success
in France. He also studied divinity under
Rollock, from whom he not only received
his first instructions in theology, but much
spiritual benefit to his soul, which circum-
stances he considered as the main instru-
ments, under God, of his conversion.
It was common, at this time, for the youth
of Scotland to travel to other countries,
particularly to France, in order to improve

themselves in learnmg and in elegant
accomplishments; and the unsettled state
of affairs in Scotland induced Boyd to
leave his native country. Keenly bent on
the pursuit of his studies, more especially
theology, it was natural that he should
retire to a country where these could be
pursued with safety, and where liberty of
conscience might be enjoyed. He left
Scotland on the first of May 1597, and
arrived at Dieppe in France six days after.
Thence he proceeded to Paris by way of
Rouen—and afterwards to Poictiers. Not
‘finding that convenience for frequenting
religious worship and assemblies that he
desired, he left Poictiers, and came to
Thouars. At this place he remained a year;
when finding his health giving way, he
went to Rochelle intending to return to
Scotland; but travelling having recruited
his health, he visited Bourdeaux and
Montauban. He became acquainted at
the latter place with M. de Dismes, then
professor of philosophy; and the provi-
dence of God disposed of him in such a.
way that his talents began to shine forth
with eminence.
While at Thouars in 1598, he becam


302
scoTs ‘WORTHIES.




-_..__

acquainted with the learned and pious M.
Rivet, who entertained him with the greatest
welcome. Here he applied himself to the
study of the Latin and Greek classics, be-
sides devoting considerable attention to the
cultivation of Hebrew. During his stay
he received charge of a school which had
been formed by Dr Rivet, under the
patronage of the duke de Fremouille.
About the end of the year 1599, Boyd
was requested to accept the professorship
of philosophy, in the university of Mont-
auban—to which he was admitted in
November of that year. This appoint-
ment took place before he had reached
21 years of age—which must be attributed
to his extraordinary fame for piety and
learning. But, as will be seen, still more
onerous and arduous duties awaited him;
while his mental powers, being thus stimu-
lated, kept pace with his promotion, and
shone forth with greater lustre. Boyd
continued at Montauban during the space
of five years; but in September, 1604,
having received a call from the congrega-
tion of the church of Vertuil to supply the
place of their late pastor, he'resigned his
professorship, and was inducted into the
holy office of the ministry, in November
following. The cause assigned for this
change was, that certain of his students at
Montauban, on returning to Angouleme,
had spoken highly of his eloquence, his
modesty, and exemplary conversation and
conduct—and they stated that he had
declared he would embrace a call to the
ministry in the church of France, when-
ever he should receive one. The church of
Vertuil in Angouleme being vacant, they
sent delegates to him, desiring his consent
to become their pastor; to which he agreed,
upon condition, that, if he should have a
call to any university where he might ex-
ercise the office both of a pastor and a
professor, they would not object to him
resigning his charge.

This being admitted, ,
he was, after due examination and trial,
ordained by the synod, and settled in the
church.
In November, 1605, he received a press-
ing letter from his cousin, David Boyd,
desiring him to return to Scotland, and
look after his estate; and urging, that as
there was only one youth to represent the
families of Trochrig and Penkill—and he
absent from his friends, it was a duty he ‘
had to perform—and one from which he
could not excuse himself. But Providence
ordered otherwise: and it was well for
those young persons of Saumur who after-
wards profited by his instructions, that
Boyd resolved to remain in France. By
the appointment of Craig to the divinity
chair of Saumur, the professorship of
philosophy was left vacant; and, through
the activity of M. Monmartin, minister at
Rochelle, and of his early friend Dr Rivet,
who was in constant correspondence with
lord Duplessis Mornay, founder of the
college of Saumur, and to whom Dr Rivet
had been eloquent in setting forth the
qualities of Boyd for the vacant office, he
was appointed to be minister and professor
of Divinity there, on the 19th April, 1606.
Here he continued for six years, discharg-
ing his duties with credit to himself, and
profit to his students ;—but the assiduity
with which he applied himself to study
laid the foundation of that disease which
ultimately occasioned his death.
In 1611 he was so satisfied and happy
in his situation at Saumur, that he gave
up all hope of ever returning to Scotland
for permanent settlement—on the contrary
indeed, he felt a strong desire to settle in
France. With this view he proposed
marriage to a daughter of the family of
Malivern; and, having satisfied the rela-
tions of the lady as to his nobility of birth,
they gave their consent, and the marriage
took place in May of the above year.
Notwithstanding his arrangements to


ROBERT BOYD.
303


remain in France, and the success which
had attended his duties as a professor, it
was so ordered that he should return to
Scotland.
King James VL, who was anxious to
increase the fame of the universities in his
dominions, having heard of the learning of
Boyd, wrote to lord Duplessis Mornay to
permit him to return, and also addressed a
letter to himself desiring him to come, and
fill the situation of principal of the college
of Glasgow, then vacant. This offer,
coming direct from the king, could not be
resisted; and, notwithstanding his previous
determination to remain in France, he
with great difficulty procured the consent
of his wife and her parents to leave that
country. On leaving the university of
Saumur, which was much regretted by all
who enjoyed his ‘acquaintance, the elders
of the reformed church, as a token of affec-
tion, assembled at his house, the day pre-
vious to his departure (October 1st, 1614),
and presented him with a testimonial of
their esteem, love, and good-will toward
him, and one hundred pounds, to reimburse
him for the expense he had incurred in
repairing and ornamenting his residence,
besides twenty-five crowns, being his
quarter’s salary. They presented him also
with ample testimonials from the synod of
the province ;—and the church and aca-
demy gave him a large silver basin, on
which were engraved his name and crest.
Next day, October 2nd, Boyd and his
family left Saumur, and were accompanied
out of the town, and some part on their
way, by the ministers and elders, the mas-
ters of the college, and a considerable num-
ber of their friends, and all Scotchmen in
that neighbourhood. Having arrived at
Dieppe, they embarked for England; and,
after remaining a short time in London,
he departed for Glasgow, which he reached
about the end of December-
On Friday the 30th January, 1615,

Boyd was installed into the office of prin-
cipal of the college of Glasgow, by the
chancellor and senate, to whom he pro-
duced his majesty’s presentation; and
being unanimously admitted, he agreed to
accept the office under certain conditions:
that he would try it for a year; but that,
from the infirm state of his health, he ex-
pected to be relieved from personally cor-
recting the scholars—eating at the college
table, &c.—all of which they conceded to
him, and prayed that the Lord might ac-
company his labours and management with
his grace and blessing. Immediately there-
after he commenced the duties of his office,
and nothing appears to have disturbed his
tranquillity for some time.
In October following a daughter was
born to him; and, three days before that
event, his house in the college—which on
his arrival was undergoing repair, and
towards which the town of Glasgow gave
five hundred merks—had been prepared
for his reception.
In answer to a letter from Boyd, in
1616, his friend, Scot of Elie, remarks, that
“ men of all ranks who have heard of your
teaching and learning, are very joyous, well
pleased, and content, and thank God for
you. I hope your hard entry and begin-
ning shall have a kind, soft and sweet pro-
gress, and a right joyful end, and success
both to yourself and the hail country.”
We may presume from this, that those
who had been instrumental in promoting
him to the situation of principal, had enter-
tained expectations that he would conform
to those points of worship and discipline,
so strongly pressed by the king and the
bishops; but, however much disposed to
gratify his majesty on indifferent affairs,
when it turned on matters of conscience,
he felt he could not honestly comply: and
the disappointment and irritation, which
thence arose, were the causes which in
duced him to resign his charge.


304
SCOTS WORTHIES.




During the year 1617, nothing particu-
lar occurred to disturb him in the per-
formance of his duties ; and we find he was
particularly careful in looking after the
income of the university, which had been
much neglected by his predecessors. The
king, when on a visit to Glasgow, in July
this year, honoured the college with his pre-
sence, and dined with the professors,-—Boyd,
as principal, taking the superintendence.
The Assembly which was held at
Perth, in the following year, by order
of the king, was induced by the court
bishops to promise, that, either by art or
force, the Scottish church should be made
to assimilate to that of England, in govern-
ment and ceremonies. By means of this
mock Assembly, it was therefore resolved
that five of the chief English ceremonies
should be practised in the Scottish church,
commonly styled the Perth Articles,*
nonconformity to which brought about
such a train of persecution and suffering
upon the people of Scotland and the min-
isters, that at last it ended in open resis-
tance to the armed forces brought to com-
pel obedience to the objectionable articles.
But after much bloodshed,--the opposition
of the people of Scotland was successful,
and they were in the end allowed to worship
God “ according to their own conscience.”
Boyd kept himself aloof from all Assem-
blies, and did not interfere publicly with
the controversies which took place after
* These articles were ratified in the parliament
held in June, 1621. At its close in August, there
occurred a great fall of rain, accompanied with
thunder and lightning, which compelled the noble-
men to abandon their horses, and take refuge in
their coaches. Regarding this, bishop Spottiswood,
noticing the opinions of the time,quaintly observes:
‘ ‘ The factions sort did interpret this to be ‘a visible
sign of God’s anger for ratifying the acts of Perth :’
others, in derision of their folly, said ‘that it was to
be taken for an approbation from Heaven, likening
the same to the thunderings and lightnings at the
giving of the law of Moses.’ ”

the passing of these articles :—he even
extended his hospitality to the bishops,
being disposed to think well of them. As
soon however as they perceived that he
favoured their opponents, they, by means
of their emissaries, construed all his words
and actions into the worst of motives.
About this time Robert Bruce, one of the
greatest opponents of the bishops, having
visited the neighbourhood of Glasgow,
Boyd had several interviews with him,—they
having been formerly on terms of friendship.
In consequence of these meetings it was
reported that he had adopted the principles
of the puritanical party. This having
been reported to the king, Boyd, in order
that he might avoid his displeasure, and
escape the enmity of the bishops, resolved
to demit his office, and retire to his estate
in Carrick. He was strongly advised
against this step by his friends; but, not-
withstanding their earnest entreaties, he
carried his purpose into effect. Of this
proceeding he afterwards sorely repented:
and indeed to this cause may be attributed
many of the disappointments and vexations
which he afterwards encountered; and
there can be no doubt that these contri-
buted to hasten his death.
In July, this year, he received an invita-
tion to return to Saumur, to be colleague
with the learned John Cameron in the
professorship of divinity. This, however,
he refilsed, which was ultimately fortunate;
as, shortly after, the troubles in France
came to such a height that all the protes—
tant academies were dispersed, and their
professors obliged to flee for their lives.
In March, 1621, he gave in to Law,
bishop of Glasgow, the following reasons
for his resignation of the office of principal
in the college of Glasgow :~—1st. That he
could not, from the weak state of his health,
undertake to perform worthily the duties
of his double charge, as principal and min-
ister of Govan. 2nd. The correction of


ROBERT BOYD.
305


students by corporal punishments was
altogether contrary to his humour and
disposition. 3rd. He had been for some
time engaged in the composition of several
works, which he was anxious to have lei-
sure to perfect. 4th. That he was deter-
mined neither to acquiesce in nor agree
with the articles of Perth Assembly. 5th.
That he had not made any provision for his
family; and that his estate, being neglected
by the present occupiers, required his person-
al superintendence, in order that it might
not be altogether lost: and besides, that
he had originally undertaken the office of
principal on trial only. But what more
immediately brought about his determina-
tion to follow up this resolution, was the
following :—At the dispensing of the Sacra-
ment, in April this year, archbishop Law
urged all the people to kneel; some did so,
but some of the students sat still. On this
he commanded them to kneel or to depart;
but they remonstrated before retiring,
observing that there was no warrant for
kneeling, and therefore, that they ought
not to be debarred from the table of the
Lord.. In consequence of this, the prin-
cipal, accompanied by the masters of the
college, went to the archbishop and re-
proved him freely for driving from the
Lord’s table such godly young men, telling
him that the table was not his but Christ’s,
“ and that he dealt in the matter, as if he
had been removing his house-boy from the
bye-board.” The archbishop was so e11-
raged at this free admonition that he could
not find utterance for some time, and when
he did, he gave vent to his indignation in
such high words, that Boyd saw it was in
vain to argue further with him; and told
him, on retiring, that he would not sit in
Rome and strive with the pope. This
dispute with the archbishop determined
Boyd to give up his office, which he did in
July following. Having sent his family
to his estate of Trochrig, he remained at

Glasgow for a few months; and while
there, some dependents of the bishop, (it
is supposed,) broke into his house and
took away several papers relating to the
affairs of the college, regarding the loss of
which he was unkindly used by the regents,
as they threatened to compel him to
make restitution; and it was suspected.
that the whole affair had been planned
for the purpose of giving him trouble and
annoyance. However he got rid of all his
difficulties, and arrived at Trochrig in
November.
On October 17th, 1622, he received a
letter from archbishop Spottiswood, offering
him the divinity chair of the university of
Edinburgh, which was backed by the
magistrates, and also by the masters of the
college, notwithstanding his known senti"
ments against conformity. Having ac-
cepted the offer, as soon as he began his
public duties, the people flocked to hear
him, which excited against him the enmity
of the other ministers,—they having all con-
formed; and they represented to the king
the impropriety of appointing to such an
oflice, a person who had been so lately
turned out of a similar one, on account of
nonconformity. Andrew Ramsay was
the strongest in his opposition to him—as
from his teaching in the same school, and
preaching in the same church, he perceived
that almost all who came to town flocked
to hear Boyd in preference to him.
Upon November 23rd, there came a
letter from the king, to the provost and
bailies of Edinburgh, expressing surprise
that they should have placed a man to be
principal, who had been deposed from his
ministry for not obeying the king’s com-
mand in the matter of kneeling at the
sacrament; and therefore commanded them
either to get him to conform, or expel him.
After some correspondence betwixt the
provost and bailies of Edinburgh, and the
archbishop of St An2drews and his majesty,
Q
—_I-
306
SCOTS WORTHIES.







a peremptory order arrived, on the last day
of January, 1628, ordering them again to
call Boyd before them, and to urge him to
conform; but if he refused, himself, his
wife, and family, were to be banished from
the town—and the provost and bailies were
threatened on their peril to see this put in
execution. Boyd, having compeared before
them, and having been shown the king’s
letter, at once resigned.
The king’s letter to the provost and
bailies showed a spirit of arbitrariness and
persecution, which, instead of furthering,
deeply wounded the interests of prelacy
in Scotland. When nonconformity was
made a bar to the usefulness of the most
pious and learned men of the age, even
those who were disinterested could not but
be dissatisfied: and the treatment of Boyd,
and other learned and pious men, prepared
the way for the ultimate overthrow of pre-
lacy in Scotland.
After this Boyd returned again to his
estate of Trochrig, where he remained in
peace and tranquillity for about three years.
His enemies were determined, however,
that he should not remain long without
feeling their enmity; for, on 24th June,
1624, there came an order from the council,
that he should be confined to the bounds
of Garrick, on account of his noncon-
formity to the Perth articles, and keeping
private meetings for prayer.
At this time his son being old enough to
go to school, Boyd wrote to his friend Bruce,
one of the regents of Glasgow college,
with whom he wished to board him—and
also to the bishop, for permission to come
to Glasgow in the beginning of October.
Bruce, in answering him, states that the
bishop would do anything with safety to
satisfy him; but he could not grant him
a license to pass the bounds, as he was
not present when the order for his con-
finement took place: yet if he had any-
thing to do in Glasgow, he might come

and do it, and he would take no notice of
his coming, provided he came secretly, and
transacted his affairs in as quiet a manner
as possible.
When Boyd came to Glasgow with his
son, old affection and respect for him
rekindled; and as his situation had been
vacant for nearly two years, since Mr
Cameron’s removal—the masters, the town
council and the bishop, were most anxious
that he should occupy it again.
We come now to that transaction in his
life of which he afterwards most sorely re-
pented. By the advice of some of his
friends, he was induced to give in a paper
to Law, archbishop of Glasgow, in which
he in part acknowledged the supremacy of
bishops; but no sooner had he taken this
step, than he felt so troubled, that he went
to the archbishop, and with tears requested
it back. Law, however, pretended that
it was already sent up to the king, and
that it was not in his power to restore it.
This paper follows in his own words :—
“ I, Robert Boyd of Trochrig, under-
subscribing, having learned and considered
the reasons and motives laid before me by
ane reverend father in God, James arch-
bishop of Glasgow, and some other my
loving and christian friends, and weighed
more deeply than of before the necessity
of employing the Lord’s talent in the exer-
cise of my calling to his glory and the good
of the kirk, whairunto my abstinence from
conformity to the five articles of the late
Perth Assembly has been hitherto the
chiefest lett and hinderance, do here in end
faithfully promise to give obedience there-
unto in due time and place, craving humbly
his maj esty to remitt all offence conceived
against me for my former delay and off-
putting, and of his royal clemency to vouch-
safe me his wonted favour and acceptation,
as to one resolved to live and die, by the
grace of Almighty God, his majesty’s most
loyal, humble and obedient servant.


ROBERT BOYD.
307


‘1
Written and subscribed with my hand at
Glasgow, this 25th of October, 1624.
“ ROBERT BOYD of Trochrig.”
Notwithstanding this apparent submis-
sion to the Perth articles, we find an
almost immediate regret at the writing of
this letter. He adds; “ Thus far have I
yielded in my simplicity and weakness, and
yet with an honest and upright mind, ac-
cording to my mean judgment.” The
following conditions were to he insisted on
by him, should he agree to return to his
former office—and were to be made good by
the town, kirk, and college of Glasgow :—
“ 1st. To read but once a week on the com-
mon heads of divinity. 2d. To preach in
the college kirk at 7 o’clock on the sabbath-
day morning, except from laureation to
Lukesmas,* that the college be con-
vened again. 3d. Not to be burdened
with the chastisement of the scholars
either privately or publicly, but every
regent should chastise his own, or else
the superior, all in public. 4th. Not to
meddle with the exercise or common head
in presbytery. 5th. To repair both my
dwelling place and the yard according to
my direction. 6th. To agree with the
minister of Govan for the teind hay that I
may keep a naig therewith. 7th. That
my stipend be as it was before, only defalk-
ing the glebe and small teinds : and of the
town I require these two things, for testi-
fication of their willingness and inclination
to my recalling and replacing :-—1. That
they will modify to me a certain sum for
the charges of my transport back to them
again, and losses that I will incur thereby,
according to their own discretion. 2.
That they gratify me thus far, as that they
will make my servant burges and freeman
of his craft.”
These conditions were only as memo-

should return to Glasgow; and it shows
his cautiousness, arising probably from his
former experience, that, previous to his ac-
ceptance, everything should be explicitlylaid
down and thoroughly understood. However,
with all his forethought he was destined
never to resume his office; for, what be-
tween the bishop, who was anxious that
his cousin Dr Strang should get the situa-
tion, and the share in the business which
was attributed to the king, who was now
approaching his latter end—difficulties
were thrown in the way which operated as
barriers to his reappointment. His ene-
mies,besides, having come to the knowledge
of the letter referred to above, made the
most of it to serve their own purposes, and
to induce others to follow his example;
and many were indeed staggered thereby.
But, as the proposal was not sanctioned
by the king, and as his election conse-
quently never took place, it was conscien-
tiously believed by his fi'iends, that the
whole affair was an invention of the pre-
latical party, to bring Boyd into discredit
with those who stood out against the
articles of the Perth Assembly.
Notwithstanding what had taken place,
his friends still expected he would return
to Glasgow, and resume his office. His
friend and cousin, Mr Zacharias Boyd,
who warmly espoused his cause, wrote to
him from Glasgow, April, 1625, as follows:
—“ This day I spoke to the bishop with
Mr Bell concerning you. We found him
in a very good temper towards you. He
is come to this point, that if you will write
to him that you will conform yourself
against pasch next coming, save one, he will
receive you presently into the colledge and
give you up all your writings. I have
given you the whole that he said in a few
Therfor, Sir, I pray you, hast to
words.
randa to refresh his memory, in Case he , us and be here before the 23d of this
‘* From ‘2d April till 18th October.
lmoneth, for that day the bishop goes to
’ Saint Andrews to a meeting ther,wher he


308
SCOTS WORTHIES.



is to confer with Doctor Strang, who 1s to
be at that meeting. I hope you will not
deliberat much. I pray you come and offer
yourself to the bishop’s will, who loves you.
I am in hast and can write no more, being
just running out to find a bearer to send
this straight to you. I pray God give his
counsell. Glasgow, April 15th, 1625."
In December following, he received an
invitation from the heritors of Paisley to
accept of the charge in that place; and as
the letter requesting his acceptance forms
what has since been termed a call fi'om a
congregation to a minister, even where a
presentation had been given by the patron,
it follows entire :-
“ Reverend Sir,
“ Having been long destitute
of a minister, to every one of our particular
greives, and to the general regrate of every
true professor, according to God’s provi~
dence and the desire of our own hearts, ye
were called to us by every kind of consent
requisite, and finding from private impedi-
ments as ye wrote to us, we meaned our-
selves to the lord Ross, a present cheif of
our parish, and having the cheifest desire
of our design, whereupon his lordship being
sensibly touched, went into Glasgow on
Wensday last, accompanied with some
gentlemen of the parish, who for his lord-
ship’s own speciall interest, and for the
whole parishioners in general, took occasion
to deal earnestly with the bishop of Glas-
gow. That by his lordship’s worthy,
zealous, and carefull endeavours, we are
not only in hopes, but confident, that imme-
diately after your return to us the bishop
will remove all whatsoever impediments as
may hinder you from using _that talent,
which in the self is so pretiouse and so
necessary to be applyed to us presently
destitute of the sweet comfort of the gospell,
so that though your sudden departure
seemed very unpleasant to us, and is the

only reason of our present delay, we all
with one voice most earnestly desire you
to repair to us with all possible diligence,
for you know our harvest is great and the
labourers are few. And to delay the
destribution of so great gifts unto us who
stand in so great present need wer a great
sin in you, and a great hinder to our edifi-
cation, seeing the calling is of God, and
God has given us the hearts so earnestly
to desire you, while by his providence all
impediments are taken away, so every hour
wishing your presence, and assuredly ex-
pecting youzwith all possible diligence that
ye and we may perfect that marriage made
in heaven for the advancement of God’s
glory and the confirmation of our salvation,
whiles by his grace ye are so lauchfully
appointed our pastor and we your flock.
And to that effect in the name of God,
and for the precious blood of Christ, hasten
your coming, and by his grace we shall
ever remain,
“ Yours in all obedience to serve you,
“ Paisley, 18 of Decem. 1625.
“ Ross,
“ B. Sempill, Will. Sempill, William
Wallace of Alderslie, Will. Wodfit, Tho.
Sempill, John Wallace of Ferguslie, Will.
Sempill, And. Semple, Hugh Cochran of
Newton, John Homes, James Wallace,
James Whiteford, Bailay of Paislay, An-
drew Stuart of VVodside.”
Upon this invitation Mr Boyd came to
Glasgow, toward the end of December, in
order to get matters arranged with the
bishop for his admission, which took place
on the first day of January, 1626. But as
the bishop declined to collate him until he
was actually placed, and as Mr Boyd felt a
delicacy in allowing himself to be placed
until he was secured by the collation in the
freedom of his ministry, and provided with
maintenance therein—he, until these differ-
ences were adjusted, considered it prudent


ROBERT BOYD.
309




charge; but he found things so unpromising,
judging by the reception he received from
lady Abercorn, that he began to lose heart;
and in a letter to his wife, dated March 12,
he says,-—“ Pray to the Lord to vouchsafe
me strength for accomplishing this charge
and sustaining me under the burden of i .”
While in Paisley, his residence was
appointed to be in the front house of the
abbey, into which he put some furniture
and his books; but on Sunday, 2d April,
while he was preaching in the church, the
Master of Paisley, with a number of
followers, entered into his house, destroyed
his furniture, cast all his books about the
place, and locked the door, so that Boyd
could not have admittance. In con-
sequence of this he complained to the
lords of the secret council, at Edinburgh,
by whom the Master of Paisley and the
bailies of the town were summoned to
answer to the charge laid against them.
After an examination of the affair, it was
the intention of the council to have impri-
soned the Master of Paisley; but Boyd,
being unwilling that he should receive any
punishment, requested that he might be
pardoned on condition that he expressed
sorrow for his conduct. This being as-
sented to, the council gave orders that
Boyd should be repossessed of his house ;
but on proceeding to the abbey for this
purpose, it was found that the keyhole of
the door had been filled with stones, so
that no entrance could be had; and the
authorities refused to force the door. See-
ing how matters stood, Boyd was about
to depart; but a rabble of women having
collected about the place, (the men having 1

to retire to Garrick, where he remainedJ stones at him, so that he was forced to
till March following. During this month :
he returned to Paisley, to enter upon his 1
leave the town, and go to Glasgow.”
Thence he proceeded to his house in
Garrick, sadly dispirited through this un-
provoked insult; but he seems to have
determined to bear all without complaint.
The archbishop of Glasgow, receiving
information of this attack upon Boyd,
felt himself called on to interfere ; and the
lady Abercorn, with her son, the Master of
Paisley, were summoned to appear at
Edinburgh before the council, to answer
for this second contempt towards the
minister. On the day appointed, they
came, accompanied by the earl of Abercorn
and a strong party of their friends, evidently
for the purpose of overawing the judgment
of the court; and after the matter had
been heard, nothing was done beyond again
ordering Boyd to be repossessed,—the
attack made upon him by the common
people being passed over without notice.
After this last insult Boyd seems to
have become quite dejected, and to have
resolved to prosecute the business no
further, conceiving a happy result alto-
gether hopeless; and, although Mr Cun-
ningham, minister of Kilmalcolm, wrote to
him by order of the presbytery, requesting
him to return and continue in the charge;
yet in his answer to him, he intimates his
firm determination to retire, and desires
that some other person be appointed to the
church.
These successive annoyances, and the
trouble which each new appointment
brought with it, could not but- weigh
heavily on a spirit such as Boyd’s—
and tend to injure a constitution already
labouring under a complication of diseases.
These now increased so much that he was
obliged to relinquish all idea of ever accept-
purposely kept out of the way,) they began I ing any charge ; and he was compelled,
to upbraid him with opprobrious speeches,
and, in the words of a contemporary writer, i
“ shouted and hoyed him, and cast dirt and l
December 9th, to proceed to Edinburgh to
consult physicians. Shortly after his arrival
there, his sickness increased, and confined


310
SCOTS WORTHIES.



him to bed. He lingered on in great pain
till the 5th of January, 1627, when he
departed this life in the hope of a blessed
immortality. “ His sickness,” says a biogra-
pher, “was but short, but his pain very
great—his patience and submission much
greater. He had been but tender and
weakly through life, and much inured
to the cross. He had learned to bear it
with joy, and great was his enlargement
during his three weeks’ trouble at Edin-
burgh. He was under the foretaste of
the glory to be revealed, and under much
heavenly ravishment and holy rapture.
His life had been a life of love, faith, and
usefulness. Great was his peace, and
glorious were his victories, over all the
shakings and temptations which at some
times he was haunted with. They all
tended to his own comfort and establish-
ment, and the confirmation of his friends
about him.”
His death was lamented by all. The
bishops and those who had opposed him
acknowledged his vast learning, great
wisdom, and remarkable piety. Those who
opposed the innovations and corruptions
of the times were almost inconsolable, at
the loss of one who, by his singular ability
and wisdom, as Well as his powerful wrest~
lings and intercessions, was truly one of the
greatest pillars of the land; and, had he
been spared, would have been singularly
useful in this dark and difficult time. As
a teacher, his exemplary holiness, singular
learning, admirable eloquence; his gravity,
humility, unaffected modesty, and extraor~
dinary diligence, as well in his ecclesiastical
as in his scholastic employments, above
the rate of ordinary pastors and professors;
drew all to a reverence, love and esteem
for, and many even to, an admiration of
him. In his studies he was indefatigable,
often sitting from morning till mid-night,
and sometimes longer, save only during
such time as was occupied in taking that
sustenance which nature required. In his
diet he was very strict and severe. In his
private conversation, when he unbended
himself, he was most courteous ; and
among those with whom he was familiar
he was sometimes pleasant and cheerful.
In all his public lectures, piety and learn_
ing and eloquence strove which should get
the mastery. In the exercise of discipline,
whether in private or public, such was the
severity of his reproofs, the earnestness of his
persuasion, the authority of his injunctions,
the charity and prudence of his counsels,
and, so all-impressive his manner, that
his looks and words were more effective to
reform what was amiss, than the sharpest
corrections of others.
Further; as to his character we give the
following from his contemporaries z—John
Row terms him “ a very learned and holy
man, eminent both in the school and the
pulpit,” and adds, “ that considering his
great learning and extraordinary gifts, he
was one of the most humble, modest, and
meek men in the ministry, in all this king-
dom. John Livingstone, who knew him
perfectly, expresses himself thus :—“ he was
a man of an austere carriage, but of a
most tender heart. Notwithstanding of
)7
himself, but a high account of every other
man’s parts.”


his rare abilities, he had no account of


ROBERT
BRUCE. 311




ROBERT
BRUCE
ROBERT BRUCE was born about the year
1554. He was second son to the laird of
Airth, fi~om whom he inherited the estate
of Kinnaird; and who being at that time
a baron of the best quality in the kingdom,
educated his son with the view of'his becom-
ing a lord of session ; and for his better ac-
complishment, sent him to France to study
the civil law. After his return, his father en-
joined him to attend to some business of his
that was then before the court, as he had
got the royal patent for his being one of
these lords. But He, whose thoughts are
not as men’s thoughts, having other designs
with him, began to work mightily upon his
conscience, so that he could get no rest,
till he was allowed to attend the divinity
lectures of Andrew Melville at St Andrews.
To this step his mother was greatly averse,
nor would she agree to it till he gave up
some lands and casualties wherein he was
infeft. This he most willingly did; and,
shaking off all impediments, fully resolved
upon an employment more fitted to the
turn of his mind.
He went to St Andrews sometime before
Melville left the country, and continued at
that university till his return. Whilst
there, he wanted not some sharp conflicts
in his mind, on the subject of his future
destination ; insomuch that upon a certain
time, walking in the fields with that holy
and excellent man, James Melville, he said
to him, “ Before I throw myself again into
such torment of conscience, as I have had
in resisting the call to the ministry, I
would rather choose to walk through a fire
of brimstone, even though it were half a
mile in length.” After he had qualified him-
self for the ministry, Andrew Melville, per-
ceiving how the Lord wrought with him,
brought him over to the General Assembly
in 1587, and moved the church of Edin-
burgh to call him to a charge in that city.
Although he was urged by some of the
brethren to enter upon the ministry in
place of James Lawson, yet he could not
be prevailed upon to accept the charge,
although willing for the time to labour in
it; till persuaded by the joint advice of the
ministers of the city, who in a manner
entrapped him into it. For, on a time
. when the sacrament was to be dispensed at
Edinburgh, one of the ministers desired
him to sit by him, as he was to preach in
the afternoon; and after having served two
or three tables, went out of the church, as
if he had been to return in a little. Instead
of this, however, he sent notice to Bruce,
who still sat over against the elements,
that unless he served the rest of the tables,
the work behoved to stop. Bruce—not
knowing but the minister had been seized
of a sudden with sickness, and the eyes of
all being fixed on him, many entreating
him to supply the minister’s place—pro—
ceeded through the remaining services, and
'that with such assistance to himself, and
. such effect upon the people, as had never
; before been seen in that place.



312
SCOTS WORTHIES.







When afterwards urged by his brethren
to receive, in the ordinary way, the imposi-
tion of hands, he refused; because he had
already received the material part of ordi-
nation, viz., the call of the people, and the
approbation of his brethren; and besides, he
had already administered the sacrament of
the Supper, which, by a new ordination,
would seem to be made void. Having thus
made trial ‘of the work, and experienced the
blessing of God upon his labours, he ac-
cepted the charge.
While a minister of Edinburgh, he shone
as a great light through all the neighbour-
ing parts of the country. The king had
such a high opinion of him, that in 15 90,
when he went to bring home his queen, he,
at his departure, nominated Bruce an ex-
traordinary councillor,and expressly desired
him to acquaint himself with the affairs of
the country, and the proceedings of the
council; professing that he reposed more
trust in him than in the rest of his brethren.
or even in all his nobles —and in this his

hopes were not disappointed. The country,
during the king’s absence, was more quiet
than either before or afterward; in conse-
quence of which, he wrote Bruce a congra-
tulatory letter, dated February 19th, 15 90,
saying, “ He would be obligated to him all
his life, for the pains he had taken in his
absence to keep his subjects in good order.”
Yea, such is said to have been his esteem
for Bruce, that upon a certain occasion,
before many witnesses, he declared that he
judged him worthy of the half of his king-
dom : but in this as in other promises, he
proved no slave to his word; for, shortly
after, he obliged this good man, for his
faithfulness, to leave the kingdom.
But still it cannot be doubted, that the
respect and esteem which he thus expressed
towards him were at the time perfectly
sincere. Accordingly, on his return, he
made choice of Bruce to officiate at the

queen’s coronation,——which was performed
l in the Chapel of Holyrood-house, on Sah-
‘ bath the 17th of May, 1590 in presence 01






1'1 .7
4




ll.
/
m“: l |
'
8 - '
1
ll! I‘. j , H,
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||,. "
'a
. J
- X
l




[Holyrood Chapel]
the foreign ambassadors, and a great con-
course of Scottish nobility. Bruce anointed
the queen, and, assisted by the chancellor
and David Lindsay, placed the crown on
her head.
Nor was it, indeed, till about three years
after this event, that his majesty’s opinion
of Bruce seems to have been changed.
In 15 93, the injudicious and unwarrantable
lenity shown by the court to the popish
l earls,-—men who had been detected in the
most treacherous designs against their


ROBERT BRUCE.
313


country—excited universal distrust, sus-
picion, and alarm. Under the influence
of such feelings, the synod of Fife which
met in September of that year, by way of
expressing its detestation of their crime,
solemnly excommunicated these noblemen
and their adherents ; ordaining the sentence
to be communicated to other synods, by
whom it was approved, and directed to be
published. On this occasion his majesty
sent for Bruce, and importunately urged
him not to publish it himself; and, as far
as possible, to prevent its being published
by his brethren. With every disposition,
however, to preserve harmony and to re-
tain the good-will of the king, Bruce did
not dissemble his sentiments. He resolute-
ly refused to do what was asked of him, and
the conversation terminated, by an insinua-
tion on the part of James, against the dis-
cipline and polity under which such mea-
sures were tolerated or sanctioned.
Some time after this, being charged by
the king—in a conference which he held
with the magistrates and ministers of Edin-
burgh—with having favoured certain alleged
treasonable designs of the earl of Bothwell,
who then attempted to gain the good-will
of the church, he evinced a similar firm-
ness and intrepidity; and, whilst his brethren
in the ministry, against whom the accusa-
tion was vague and general, contented
themselves with simply appealing to their
hearers in proof of their innocence, Bruce-—
against whom the charge was more specific
and serious—insisted on knowing the indi-
viduals who had thus slandered him to his
majesty, and declared, that he would not
again enter the pulpit until he was legally
cleared of the crime imputed to him.
James, after some shuffling, named the
f degree correct, was, as might be expected,
master of Gray, and one Tyrie a papist,

given the alleged information against
Bruce, and offered to fight any person, his
majesty excepted, who should affirm that
he had defamed that minister.
Being a man of public spirit and heroic
mind, Bruce was always pitched upon to deal
in matters of high moment: and, amongst
other things, upon the 9th of November,
1596, he, together with Andrew Melville
and John Davidson, was directed by a
council of the brethren, to deal with the
queen concerning her religion; andfor want
ofreligious exercises and virtuous occupation
amongst her maids, to move her to hear
now and then the instructions of godly and
discreet men. They went accordingly; but
were refused admittance until another time.
About the same period, Bruce distin-
guished himself by the part he took in defence
of David Black, and by the zeal he dis-
played against the suspected inroads of
popery. The commissioners who had been
appointed to assist in conducting the case
of that worthy minister, being, by an order
of the court, removed from Edinburgh; the
public mind, in some degree agitated by
this unusual stretch of prerogative, soon
after experienced a new cause of alarm.
On the morning of the 17th December, a
day memorable in the history of the church
of Scotland, statements were circulated,
that Huntly, one of the popish earls, had
been privately at court, and had prevailed
on the king to issue an order which had just
been intimated ;—that twenty-four of the
citizens, best affected towards the ministers,
and most distinguished for their zeal, should
leave the town; and, as some added, that
his friends and retainers were at hand,
waiting for orders to enter the capital.
This information, which was to a certain
as his informers; but on the day fixed I a source of considerable alarm to Bruce
for examining the affair, no person appeared and his brethren in the ministry.
It being
to make good the charge ; and Gray, after l the day of the weekly sermon, they agreed
having left the court, denied that he had
that Balcanquhal, whose turn it was to


' 2 R
314
SCOTS WORTHIES.



preach, should desire the barons and bur-
gesses present, to meet in the Little Church,
to advise along with them what ought to be
done. The meeting took place after sermon;
and two persons from each of the estates
were appointed to wait on the king, who
happened at that time to be in the Tolbooth
with the lords of session. Having obtained
an audience, Bruce told his majesty
that they were sent by the noblemen,
barons and citizens, convened in the Little
Church, to lay before him the dangers
which threatened religion. “ What dan-
gers see you ?” said the king. Bruce
mentioned their apprehensions as to
Huntly. “ \Vhat have you to do with
that ?” said his majesty. “ And how durst
you convene against my proclamation?”
-—-“ We dare more than that,” said lord
Lindsay, “ and will not suffer religion to be
overthrown.” Upon this, the king retired
to another apartment and shut the door.
The deputies therefore returned, and re-
ported that they had not been able to

obtain a favourable answer to their peti- _
a)‘ ‘1
v
tions; and Bruce proposed, that, deferring
the consideration of their grievances for
the present, they should merely pledge
themselves to be constant in their profession
and defence of religion. This proposal
having been received with acclamation, he
besought them, as they regarded the credit
of the cause, to be silent and quiet. As
they were thus proceeding, however, an
unknown person entered, exclaiming, “Fly,
save yourselves! the papists are coming
I .
to massacre you!” to WhlCh another re-
joined, “ The sword of the Lord and of
Gideon !” “ These are not our weapons,”
said Bruce, attempting to calm the Assem-
bly ; but the cry of “ To arms! to arms I”
being raised on the street, they immediately
rushed out, and being joined by a crowd
already collected without, the panic spread;
and for about an hour, confusion and riot
prevailed throughout the city. The tumult
was at length quelled by the joint exertions
of the magistrates and ministers; but the
king, the day after, hastily left the city and
removed to Linlithgow; from whence he

l I! '5 5m ‘I.
' ~ "in Vilf'iliti
[The Palace of Linlithgow, m 16U0.)






ROBERT
BRUCE. 315



issued a severe proclamation, commanding
all judges and officers to repair to him, and
forbidding all noblemen and barons from
assembling without his permission.
Upon the Sabbath following, Bruce, in
preaching from the 51st psalm, declared,
“ The removal of your ministers is at hand,
our lives will be bitterly sought after; but
ye shall see with your eyes, that God shall
guard us, and be our buckler and defence,”—
a saying which was soon in part accom--
plished; for on the day following, the king
sent a charge from Linlithgow against him
and the other ministers of Edinburgh, to
enter themselves in ward at the castle there,
within six hours, under pain of horning.
Though conscious of their innocence, yet
seeing that the king’s anger was kindled
against them, they thought proper at the
advice of their friends to withdraw, and for
a time conceal themselves from the effects
of his displeasure. Bruce and Balcanquhal
accordingly went into England; Watson
and Balfour concealed themselves in Fife.
They wrote apologies for their conduct, in
which they vindicated themselves from the
aspersions thrown upon them, and. assigned
reasons for their flight.
As soon as it was known that they had
fled, they were publicly denounced rebels.
Great keenness was shown to find some
evidence of their accession to the tumult ;
and when this failed, recourse was had to
fabrication. A letter, which on the day
after, Bruce, at the request of the convened
barons, wrote to lord Hamilton requesting
his countenance and assistance in support
of the church’s interests, was altered and
vitiated in such a manner, as to make it
express an approbation of the riot. Con-
scious, however, of the fraud, the court did
not dare to make any public use of this
vitiated document; but it was circulated in
private, with the view of blasting the re-
putation of Bruce and his friends.
When in favour with the court in the


year 1589, he had obtained a gift for life,
out of the lands of the abbey of Arbroath,
which he enjoyed for a number of years.
In 1598, the king privately disposed of this
to lord Hamilton. He at first stirred up
the tenants of the abbey to resist payment,
and when this expedient failed, he avowed
the deed. Bruce signified his willingness
to yield up the gift, provided the king re-
tained it in his own hands, or applied it to
the use of the church ; but learning that it
was to be bestowed on lord Hamilton, he
resolved to defend his right, although his
majesty, by threats and persuasions,endeav-
oured to induce the lords of session to give
a decision in Hamilton’s favour. They,
however, found that Bruce’s title was valid
and complete. Upon this, the king, not
content with storming at the judges and his
opponent’s counsel, and determined to
obtain his object, “ wakened the process”
by means of two ministers in Angus, to
whom he transferred part of the annuity.
And notwithstanding a private settlement
of the dispute, which was sanctioned by the
lords of session, he afterwards so set aside,
and altered the minute of court, that by it
Bruce was deprived of the greater part of
his annuity, and made to hold the remainder
at the royal pleasure: upon which he threw
up the gift in disdain.
But all this was nothing more than the
drops before the shower, or as the gathering
of waters before an inundation. This,
though allowed to return from his conceal-
ment, Bruce afterwards experienced to be
the case; for the king having for some
time laboured to get prelacy established in
Scotland, not only discharged him from
preaching in Edinburgh, but even forced
him to go into exile, because he would not
\ comply with his measures; andin particular,
because he refused to give praise to God
in public for his majesty’s deliverance from
the pretended treason, in 1600, until he was
made certain of the crime. He embarked




316
SCOTS WORTHIES.





._.__-
at Queensferry, on the 3rd of November years,'teaching every Wednesday and Sab-
the same year, and arrived at Dieppe on
the 8th of that month.
Although, by the king’s permission, he
returned home the year following, yet
because he would not acknowledge Gowrie’s
conspiracy to be treason, exculpate his
majesty in such places as he should ap-
point, and crave pardon for his long dis-
trust and disobedience, &c. ; he could not
be admitted to his place and office again,
but was commanded by the king to keep
ward in his own house at Kinnaird. After
the king’s departure to England, however,
he had some respite for about a year or
more; but on the 20th of February, 1605,
he was summoned to compear before the
commission of the General Assembly, to
hear and see himself removed from his
charge at Edinburgh. In his absence, they
had declared the place vacant; now, they in-
timated the sentence, and Livingstone was
commissioned by the king to see it put in
execution. Bruce appealed; they attempted
to prohibit him from preaching; but he dis-
regarded them. In July thereafter, chancel-
lor Seaton informed him of the king’s ex-
press order discharging him from preaching
any more; but said, he would not use his
authority in this, and would only request
him to desist for nine or ten days; to
which he consented, thinking it but of small
moment for so short a time. But he soon
felt how deep the smallest deviation from
his Master’s cause and interest might go
into the devoted heart ; for that very night,
as he himself afterwards declared, his body
became so feverish, and he felt such terror
of conscience, as made him resolve to obey‘
such commands no more.
Upon the 8th of August following, he
was charged to enter himself in ward at
Inverness, within the space of ten days,
under pain of horning; which order he
obeyed upon the 17th following. In this
place he remained for the space of four.

bath forenoon, and reading public prayers
every other night; and his labours were
greatly blessed. By means of his ministry,
a dark country was wonderfully illuminated;
many were brought to Christ, and a seed
was sown which remained and was mani-
fest for many years afterward.
When he returned from Inverness to his
own house, even though his son had pro-
cured a license for him, he could find noth-
ing but trouble and vexation from the
ministers of the presbyteries of Stirling
and Linlithgow ; and for no other reason
but declaiming against the vices in which
many of them indulged. At last he ob-
tained liberty from the council to remove
his family to another house he had at
Monkland; but, because of the archbishop
of Glasgow, he was again forced to retire
to Kinnaird.
Thus this good man was tossed about,
and obliged to go from place to place;
and in this state he continued, until by
the king’s order he was summoned before
the council, on September 19th, 1621, to
answer for transgressing the law of his
confinement, &c. When he appeared, he
pleaded the favour expressed towards him
by his majesty when in Denmark, and
vvithal purged himself of the accusation
laid against him : “ and yet, notwithstand-
ing all these, (said he,) the king hath ex-
hausted both my estate and person, and
has left me nothing but my life, and that,
too, apparently he is seeking! Iam prepared
to suffer any punishment; only I am care-
ful not to suffer as amalefactor or evil-deer.”
A charge was then given him to enter him-
self in ward in the castle of Edinburgh,
where he continued till the first of January.
Though the bishops, his delators, chose to
absent themselves on that day, he was
brought before the council, and the king’s
pleasure intimated to him, viz., that he
should return to his own house, until the


ROBERT BRUCE.
817


21st of April, and thence remove again to
Inverness, of which he was to confine him-
self, during the king’s pleasure.
Here he accordingly remained until
September, 1624, when he obtained liberty
to return from his confinement to settle
some domestic affairs; but the conditions
of his license were so severe, that he re-
solved to return to Inverness. In the
mean time, however, the king died, and
therefore he was not urged to resume his
confinement ; for, although king Charles I.
renewed the charge against him some years
after, yet he continued for the most part
in his own house, preaching and teaching
wherever he had occasion.
About this time the parish of Larbert
was vacant; where it was without
stipend, he repaired the church at his own
expense, and discharged all the duties of
a christian minister, with great success.
Many, besides the inhabitants of the parish,
attended upon his preaching with much
benefit; and it would appear, that about
this time Henderson, then ‘minister of
Leuchars, was converted by his ministry.
At this place it was his custom, after the
first sermon, to retire by himself some time
for private prayer; and on one occasion,
some noblemen who had to ride to a dis-
tance sent the beadle to learn if there
were any appearance of his coming in.
The man returned, saying, “I think he
will not come to day; for I overheard
him say to another, ‘ I protest I will not
go unless thou goest with me.’ ” However,
in a little time he came, accompanied by
no man, but full of the blessing of Christ:
for his speech was with much evidence and ;
demonstration of the Spirit. It was easy
for his hearers to perceive that he had been
on the mount with God, and that he had @
indeed brought that God whom he hadlI
met in private, into his mother’s house, and i
into the chambers of her that conceived
hbn!

Some’ time before his death, being at
Edinburgh, where through weakness he
often kept his chamber, several godly min_
isters, who had met about some business
connected with the church, hearing he was
in town,,came and gave him an account
of the prelates’ actings. After this he
prayed, adverting to the facts they had
stated, and deploring the state of the
church, in such a manner, that during
the whole time there was such a powerful
emotion felt by all present, and such a
sensible down-pouring of the spirit, that
they could hardly contain themselves.
Wemyss of Lathokar, who was present,
said, at departing, “ O how strange a man
this is, for he knocketh down the Spirit
of God upon us all ;” referring to his having
different times knocked with his fingers
upon the table in the time of prayer.
About the same period, he related a
strange dream that had occurred to him.
He thought he saw a long broad book,
with black boards, ‘flying in the air, with
many black fowls like crows flying about
it; and as it touched any of them, they
fell down dead; and that he heard a voice
speak to him, saying, Htcc est ira Dez'
contra pastores ecclesice Scoticanaa!f
upon which he fell a weeping, praying
that he might be kept faithful, and not be
one of those who were thus struck down
by the torch of God’s wrath, for deserting
the truth. He said, when he awakened
he found his pillow drenched with tears.
“ Upon one occasion,” says Livingstone in
his memoirs, “ I went to Edinburgh to see
him, in company with the tutor of Bon-
nington. When we called for him at eight
o’clock in the morning, he told us he was
not inclined for company; and, on being
urged to tell us the cause, he answered,
that when he went to bed he had a good
measure of the Lord’s presence, but that
This is the anger of God against the pastors
of the Scottish Church I




318
SCOTS WORTHIES.



he had wrestled about an hour 'or two
before we came in, and had not yet got
access; and so we left him. At another
time, I went to his house, but saw him not
till very late. When he came out of
his closet, his face was foul with weeping;
and he told me, that that day he had been
thinking on what torture and hardships
Dr Leighton, our countryman, had been
put to at London ;* and added, if I had
been faithful, I might have had the pillory
and some of my blood shed for Christ, as
well as he, but he hath got the crown from
us all.’ ”
same writer declares, “ ‘ I would desire no
more at my first appeal from king James, l
but one hour’s converse with him: Iknow
he has a conscience, I made him once
weep bitterly at Holyroodhouse.’ And
upon another occasion, in reference to his
death, he said, ‘ I wonder how I am kept
so long here: I have lived two years
already in violence; meaning, that he was
that much beyond seventy years of age.’ ”1”
In such a manner did this bright star set
in our horizon. There were none, in his
"‘ This was the famous Leighton, doctor of
divinity in the two universities of St Andrews and
Leyden, who, for writing of Zion’s Plea against
Prelacy, was apprehended at London by two
ruffians, brought before archbishop Laud, and
sentenced, besides a fine of £10,000, to be tied to
a stake, and receive thirty-six stripes with a triple
cord ; and then to stand two hours in the pillory,
(which he did in a cold winter night) and then to
have his ear cut, his face fired, and his nose slit;
and the same to be repeated that day se’ennight,
and his other ear out off, with theslitting of the
other side of his nose, and burning his other cheek.
All this was executed with the utmost rigour, and
then he was sent prisoner to the Fleet, where he
continued, till upon a petition to the parliament in
1640, he was released, and got for his reparation a
vote of £6000, which it is said was never paid, and
made warden of that prison wherein he had been
so long confined; but through infirmity and bad
treatment he did not long survive, being then
seventy‘two years of age. See this related more
at length in Stevenson’s history, Vol. III. p. 948.
t Livingstone’s Memorable Characters, p. 74.


time, who preached with such manifesta-
tions of the power of the Spirit; and no
man had more seals of his ministry; yea, _
many of his hearers thought, that no man,
since the days of the apostles, ever spoke
with such power; and although he was
no Boanerges, being of a slow but
grave delivery, yet he spoke with such
authority and weight, as became the oracles
of the living God. Some of the most stout
hearted of his hearers were ordinarily made
to tremble ; and by thus having the door,
a which had formerly been shut against Jesus
“I heard him once say,” the
Christ, as by an irresistible power thrown
open, and the secrets of their hearts made
manifest, they oftentimes went away undei
deep convictions. In prayer he was short,
especially in public; but “every word or
sentence he spoke was as a bolt shot to
heaven.” He spent much of his time in
private prayer. He had a very notable
faculty in searching the scriptures, and ex-
plaining the most obscure mysteries there-
in. He had also much inward exercise of
conscience regarding his own case, and was
sometimes tempted, even concerning that
grand fundamental truth—the being of a
God; insomuch, that it was almost customary
to him to say, as he did when he first spoke
in the pulpit, “ I think it a great matter to
believe there is a God.” By such experi-
ence he was the better fitted to deal with
others under the like temptations. Hav-
ing a very majestic countenance, his ap-
pearance in the pulpit was good. His
delivery was solemn, impressive, and com-
manding; and to apply to his sermons the
reverse of the figure by which one of his
hearers described his prayers, “ every word
or sentence he spoke was like a bolt shot
from heaven.”
As a writer, Bruce may be regarded as
having been, for his time, both substantial
and eloquent. The forementioned apology;
his letters to M. Espignol, the duke of
Parma, Col. Semple and others; and above


JOSIAS WE LCH.
319


all, his five sermons on the Lord’s Supper, 7
together with his miscellaneous sermons,
entitled him to this character.
more especially for his services and suffer-
ings in the cause of civil and religious
liberty, that he is entitled to the respect
and gratitude of posterity; even as it was
by these, especially, that he earned the
esteem and admiration of his contempo-
raries.
TESTIMONY
or
ROBERT BRUCE.
For some time previous to his death,
which happened in August 1631, he was,
through age and infirmity, mostly confined
to his chamber. Being frequently visited
by friends and acquaintances, he was on
one occasion asked by one of them, how
matters stood betwixt God and his soul?
He made this reply, “ When I was young,
I was diligent, and lived by faith on the
Son of God; but now I am old and not
able to do so much, and yet he condescends
to feed me with lumps of sense and
But it is I
\
i
I
!

experience.” On the morning of the day
on which he died—his sickness consisting
chiefly in the weakness of age—he came to
breakfast; and having, as usual, eaten an
eg , he said to his daughters, “ I think I
am yet hungry, ye may bring me another
egg.” But instantly thereafter, falling into
deep meditation, and after having mused
a little, he said, “ Hold, daughter, my
Master calls me!” Upon these words, his
sight failed him ; and calling for his family
Bible, but finding he could not see, he said,
“ Cast up to me the eighth chapter of the
epistle to the Romans, and set my finger
on these words, I am persuaded that
neither death nor life, (1%., shall be able to
separate me from the love of God which
is in Christ Jesus my Lord. “Now,”
said he, “is my finger upon them “.3” and
being told it was, he said, “ Now God be
with you my children ; I have breakfasted
with you, and shall sup with my Lord
Jesus Christ this night.” And thus, like
Abraham of old, this eminent saint and
servant of God gave up the ghost in a
good old age, and was gathered to his
people.

JOSIAS
WELCH.
THIS eminent minister of the gospel was '
a younger son of the famous John W'elch
of Ayr, and Elizabeth Knox, daughter of
the great Reformer. As might be expected
from such parents, he received a most
liberal and religious education. But what

proved more especially the source of his
reputation was, that he was heir to his
father’s graces and virtues. Although he
had received all the branches of useful
learning, required for the ministry; yet pre~
lacy being then prevalent in Scotland, he


320
SCOTS WORTHIES.



kept back for some time from the office,
not being clear in his own mind about
entering into it by the door of episcopacy.
But some time after, it so fell out, that
meeting with worthy Mr Blair, (who was
then a minister at Bangor in Ireland,) he
was exhorted and solicited to go over with
him, under the assurance that there he
would find work enough, and he hoped
success likewise. This accordingly was
the case; for, upon his going thither, he
was highly honoured of the Lord, to bring
the covenant of grace to the people at the
Six-mile water; and having also preached
some time at Oldstone, he was afterwards
settled at Temple-patrick, where, with
great vigilance and diligence, he exercised
his office, and, by the blessing of God upon
his labours, gained many seals of his min-
istry.
But Satan, envying the success of the
gospel in that quarter, stirred up the pre-
latical clergy against him; and in May,
1632, the bishop of Down caused to cite
him, together with Blair, Livingstone, and
Dunbar; and on their compearing, urged
them to conform, and give their subscrip-
tion to that effect. But they answered
with great boldness, that there was no law
in that kingdom requiring this; yet, not—
withstanding, they were all four deposed by
him from the office of the holy ministry.
After this, Welch continued some time
preaching in his own house, where he had
a large audience ; and such was his desire
to gain souls to Christ, that he commonly
stood in a door looking towards a garden,
that he might be heard by those without
as well as within ; in consequence of which,
being of a weakly constitution, he con-

tracted a cold which occasioned his death
in a short time after.
He continued in this way, until May,
1634, when, by the intercession of lord
Castlestuart with the king in their behalf,
he and his brethren received a grant of six
months’ liberty from the bishop. This
freedom he most gladly embraced; but he
had preached only a few weeks in his own
pulpit before his illness increased, so as to
prevent his continuing his labours. He
died very soon after. The short history
of his life may be summed up in the
words of one who knew him well, who had
been his companion in labour and in suf-
fering, and who could well appreciate the
virtues by which he was adorned. On the
Sabbath afternoon before his death, which
was on Monday following, “ I heard,” says
Livingstone, “ of his sickness, and came to
him about eleven o’clock at night, and
Mr Blair came about two hours thereafter.
He had many gracious discourses, as alsc
some wrestling and exercise of mind. One
time he cried out, ‘ Oh for hypocrisy !’ on
which Blair said, ‘ See how Satan is nib-
bling at his heels before he enter into glory!’
A very little before he died, being at prayer
by his bedside, and the word ‘ Victory’
coming out of my mouth, he took hold of
my hand, desiring me to forbear a little;
and clapping his hands, cried out, Victory,
Victory, Victory for evermore !’—he then
desired me to go on, and in a little after
expired. His death happened on the 23rd
of June, 1634.”
' He died in the flower of his youth, leav-
ing only one son behind him, viz., John
Welch, afterwards minister of Irongray in
Gallowayfix'
* This J olm Welsh was ejected from his parish under Bishop l:'u.iri'oul’s act. In 1661, Episcopacy was established at the mere will of
the King. All acts in favour of Presbytery were rescinded; Patronage was restored, to be a deadweight upon the Church; and all
ministers who would not conform, and who would not receive ordination from the Bishops, were ejected from their parishes. By this
act, commonly called Bishop Fairfoul’s act, he having urged it, assuming the government ‘not ten ministers would refuse. Nearly 400
churches were shut up in one day. ‘ Among those who were ejected was J OHN WELSH, Minister at Irongray. When he was apprehended,
his whole parish assembled around him, clung to him on all sides, and refused to part. They followed him to the Water of Cluden,
where, after prayer, Mr. Welsh mounted his horse and rode quickly away, the people running after him, and rending the air with their cries,





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JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE.
321


JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMORE.

THIS memoir may be reckoned more an
account of the latter days than of the whole
life of the nobleman,whose title it bears ; as
comparatively little is known of him, so long
as he was distinguished only by the appel-
lation of John Gordon of Lochinvar. It
is certain, however, that he was born in
the year 1599. His father, Sir Robert
Gordon, was the tenth in lineal descent of
that ancient family, who had been proprie-
tors of Lochinvar for more than three
centuries prior to this period. And we
learn from the peerage of Scotland, that
his mother was lady Isobel Ruthven,
daughter of William Ruthven, first earl
of Gowrie. The ancient family of Gordon
very early embraced the principles of the .
reformation, and were devotedly attached,
to the presbyterian form of worship.
Wodrow informs us that a branch of the
Lochinvar family had become converts to
the principles of Wickliffe, and that they
received into their house several of his
adherents who had itinerated to Scotland
to propagate the truth. So early as 1574,
the well-known Robert Campbell of
Kinzeancleugh, and John Davidson, min-
ister of Prestonpans, who was then under 1
concealment, paid a visit to Sir John


It is uncertain whether lord Kenmure
enjoyed the advantages of an early re-
ligious education, while under the paternal
roof, or not; but we are safe to conclude,
that his religious impressions, if not at first
received from the famous John Welch,
were matured and confirmed by that cele-
brated man, while in exile in the kingdom
of France. Kenmure, while resident in
that country, according to the custom of
the times among young men in prosecution
of their studies, was an inmate of Welch’s
family; and, it cannot be doubted, that,
witnessing the distinguished piety which
marked the whole of that good man’s
ministerial life, and sharing in the conver-
sations and habits of afamily so singularly
holy, he could not but, by the richness and
freeness of divine grace, imbibe a similar
spirit. And, that he there became a sub-
ject of the Redeemer’s kingdom, is evident,
not only from his exemplary deportment,
upon his return from the continent; but
also from the anxiety he manifested to pro-
vide and disseminate the blessings of a
gospel ministry to those around him.
Anwoth, the parish in which Rusco, the
family residence, was situated, enjoyed at
that time the benefit of public worship
Gordon, grandfather to the subject of this only every alternate sabbath,in consequence




brief memoir, at Rusco castle; a visit of itsbeing united to othertwoparishes. To
which, in all probability, would not have 5 a pious mind like Kenmure’s, this was a
l
taken place, had not Sir John been of a lamentable grievance; and therefore he im-
: mediately set about obtaining a disjunction,
kindred spirit.
2s
a
L __.i___ a
322
SCOTS WORTHIES.



in which, after much delay, and great diffi-
culty, he at length succeeded. The first
person invited to the ministerial office, in
that parish, was the celebrated John i
Livingstone, author of “ Remarkable Obser- I
vations upon the Lives of the most eminent
Ministers and Professors in the Church of
Scotland ;” but Providence overruled the
call, and the godly Samuel Rutherford Nor was Kenmure’s
was sent in his place.
christian benevolence confined to his own
parish. He endeavoured to procure for
other parishes, also, the blessings of a
gospel ministry; but the distracted state
of the times rendered all his exertions in—
effectual.
Before Rutherford’s settlement in
Anwoth, Kenmure had been married to
lady Jane Campbell, sister to the cele-
brated Marquis of Argyle, who was be-
headed in 1661, for his adherence to Pres-
bytery, and the Solemn League and Cove-
nant ;-—“ a lady,” says arecent biographer,
“of uncommon piety and worth, and a
never-failing friend of all to whom the
Saviour was dear.” Both of these eminent
christians vied with Rutherford in promo-
ting, among the people of the neighbour-
hood, a spirit of true religion ; but of this
happiness they were soon deprived—for
in less than two years they removed to
Edinburgh, leaving Rutherford to struggle
alone,-—a circumstance which he after-
wards designated “ as the severest trial he
had met with since he entered upon his
ministry.” Their absence in the metro-
polis, however, was not long; but on their
return, they took up their residence at
Kenmure castle, about twenty miles dis-
tant from Anwoth. As soon as Ruther-
ford heard of their arrival, he addressed
lady Kenmure in the following strain of
heavenly salutation—-“ I bless our Lord
Jesus Christ, who hath brought you home
again to your country, from that place
where ye have seen with your eyes. that


which our Lord’s truth taught you before;
to wit, that worldly glory is nothing but a
vapour, a shadow, the foam of the water,
or something less and lighter, even nothing ;
and that our Lord hath ‘not without cause
said in his word, ‘ The countenance or
fashion of this world passeth away.’ ”
It is probable that Rutherford’s reason
for thus expressing himself was in conse-
quence of an overweening ambition and
wordly-mindedness which had, for some
time previous, been unhappily conspicuous
in Kenmure’s pursuits; for, in 1633, he
had been elevated to the peerage, under
the title of Viscount Kenmure, and was in-
dulging the hope, that the attainted honours
of the house of Gowrie might perhaps be
revived in his person, in right of his
mother—for he had sold part of his patri-
mony, that he might have it in his power
to bribe the duke of Buckingham, in order
to promote his views to the earldom; and
he was said to have actually presented that
nobleman with a purse of gold, the very
night before his assassination.
The state of affairs at that time were
far from being favourable for maintaining,
unsullied, a constant feeling of “ pure and
undefiled religion ;” and, although Ken»
mure did not altogether throw off the re-
straint of his earlier “theological and
ecclesiastical principles ;” yet, having re-
ceived such marks of the royal favour and
distinction, he so far relinquished his con-
cern for religion and the church of Christ,
from motives of mere temporary expedi-
ency, and worldly policy, as to lay the
foundation of a regret which did not cease
to afflict him till the day of his death.
We do not mean to say that he took part
with the court, in opposing the interests
of the church of Scotland; but he certainly
did not exhibit that zeal for her advance-
ment and prosperity that might have been
expected; for, leaving others to struggle
and fight on in the heat of the day, he,


JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE.
323

with apparent callousness and unconcern,
withdrew from parliament, without a word
of remonstrance, to his seat in the country,
~—a step, the recollection of which imbittered
even his departing moments. “ I deserted
the parliament,” said he, “for fear of incur-
ring the displeasure of my sovereign, and the
loss of further honour, which I certainly
expected!” But, that he had not alto-
gether lost sight of his spiritual interests,
is happily proved by the fact of his making
choice of Mr George Gillespie, as his
domestic chaplain, when he withdrew from
the turmoils of apolitical life,—-a man whose
high qualifications, both as a scholar and
servant of God, eminently fitted him
for being useful in a family whose hearts
were set upon doing good. Kenmure,
however, does not appear to have profited
by this good man’s pious example, as he
might have done; for, upon his death-bed
we find him thus addressing Gillespie--“ I
would I had paid better heed to many of
your words ;—I might have gotten good
by the means God gave me; but I made
no use of them.”
During the following year he continued
to reside in the country, with the excep-
tion of a short visit to Edinburgh, proba-
bly in reference to his views of worldly
elevation ; but it seemed good in the mind
of God, that he should not rise to higher
honours in this world; for, in little more
than a year after the sitting of the parlia-

. formerly taken so much delight.
ment with the fearful wrestlings of my
conscience, my light paying me home I
within, when I seemed to be glad and
joyful before men.” Gladly would he now
have parted with all worldly honours, could
he have undone or revoked his former
abandonment of duty. “ I have found,”
said he, “the weight of God’s anger, for
not giving testimony for the Lord my God,
when I had opportunity in the last parlia-
ment; for which foul fault, how fierce have
I found the wrath of the Lord! For all
the earth, should I not do, as I have done.
W0, W0, to honour or anything else bought
0 with the loss of conscience and God’s
favour!” But he was not abandoned to
despair. His Redeemer had thoughts of
peace and mercy towards him; and, pro-
videntially, just when his disease was be-
ginning to assume an alarming aspect,
Rutherford came to pay a visit to Ken-
mure castle. Seeing but little prospect of
recovery, the good man was induced to
prolong his stay, till the time of Kenmure’s
death, which took place about a fortnight
after, on the 12th of September, 1634.
Rutherford’s arrival was a great relief
to the mind of Kenmure. His eye glis-
tened with joy when he saw a clergyman
whom he had been instrumental in bring-
ing to that part of the country, whom he
esteemed very highly, and in whose reli-
gious conferences and services he had
But it

ment to which we have alluded, he was 1 would be superfluous to pursue the subject

seized with a fever, when he had not l of his death further in this place, as 2.
reached the meridian of life. This hap- Z minute and interesting detail will be found
pened in the end of August, 1634:. Before in his Testimony. It would be improper,
this time, however, it had pleased God to l however, to close this narrative, with-
give him a saving view of his conduct; and out making honourable mention of his
it stung him to the heart when he learned I amiable and truly pious lady, and we
the exertions that had been made, and I cannot do so more appropriately, than in
were still making, to expose the enact- ‘ Kenmure’s own words. On his death-bed,
ments, and counteract the efliects of an he “gave her different times, and that
episcopalian government. “God knoweth,” openly, an honourable and ample testimony
said he, “that I deserted the last parlia- of holiness and goodness, and all respect-





___
324
SCOTS WORTHIES.

ful kindness,-—and craved her forgiveness,
earnestly, where he had offended her, and
desired her to make the Lord her comfort.”
The Lord had taken away from her all her
children except one; and five years after
Kenmure’s death, she was deprived of her
only surviving son and child. She was after-
wards married to the Hon. Henry Mont-
gomery, second son to the earl of Eglinton,
an active and faithful friend to the church
of Christ. But their union was of short
duration ; for she was soon after again left
a widow. During the whole of her life
she was a pattern of holiness, and good
works. She was, in an especial manner,
kind to those, who, in those days, were
suffering for conscience’ sake, and who had
been reduced to poverty and exile. She
was eminently one of those, whose nobility
is not written “in old, rotten, or mouldered
parchments, but is more ancient than the
heavens,”-—consisting in that adoption by
which they are made the children of God,
subjects of the King of kings, and brethren
of the eternal Son of God?‘
TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN GORDON, VlSCOUNT KENMURE.
[Although the subject of this memoir did
not actually suffer persecution for the
cause of Christ and his gospel, yet he had
those inward workings of the Spirit, which
very alarmingly reproved him for a want
of zeal in the good work, upon an oppor-
tunity when Worldly ambition induced him
to be silent; even when so many of his own
rank stood manfully forward, and declared
their willingness to suffer the loss of all
things, that they might do honour to the
great King and Head of the church. That
it The dignities and titles of this eminent family
were forfeited, in the rebellion of 1715 ; but were
revived, in 1824, in the person of the venerable
representative, John, Lord Viscount Kenmure.
I
he bitterly lamented this misgiving, and
sincerely repented of it, upon his death-
bed, however, will be made clearly apparent,
in the subsequent account of the last days
of his life.]
Upon the last day of August 1634,
which was the Sabbath of the Lord, when
this nobleman’s body was much weakened,
he was visited byareligious and learned pas-
tor,* who then lived in Galloway, not far
distant from the house of Kenmure. He
rejoiced at the coming of this pastor to his
house, and observed and spoke of a direct-
ing and all-ruling Providence, who had
sent to him such a man. After supper,
Kenmure drew on a conference with the
pastor, saying, “ I am heavily weighed and
affrighted in soul with two great burdens :
the one is, fear of death—the other, extreme
and vehement bodily pain; but the former
is heavier than the latter; for I never dream-
ed that death had such an austere, gloomy,
terrible, and grim-like countenance. I dare
not die; howbeit I know I must die. What
shall I do ? for I dare not venture in grips
with death ; because I find my sins so
grievous, and so many, that I fear my ac-
counts are ragged and out of order, and not
so as becometh a dying man.”
The pastor answered, “My lord, there
is a piece of nature in all men, (the believ-
er not excepted,) whereby the first look
upon death is terrible and fearful. O!
my lord, believe in him who died for you.
O! look the second and third time upon
death’s face; and if you be in Christ, you
shall see Jesus hath put a white mask upon
death; and I dare say, if this be the time
of your dissolution, I trust in God you
shall both change your mind and words:
for if you have a good second in the com-
bat, (such as is only Christ,) your Lord
will possibly let your conscience wrestle
' That the pastor, here mentioned, was Samuel
Rutherford, is evident for many reasons which it
is unnecessary to detail in this place.


JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE.
325


with the fear of death : Yet he is behold-
ing fair play ; and I hope Christ Jesus will
not be a naked beholder, and say, Deal it
betwixt you, as he doth in the death of rep-
robates, but shall lend you help; for
borrowed strength is all your strength
here. But, my lord, I fear more the
ground of your fear of death, which is (as
you say), the consciousness of your sins;
for there can be no plea betwixt you and
your Lord, if your sins be taken away in
Christ; for then death loseth its action
of law against you, you being in Christ;
and therefore make that sure work, and
fear not.”
Kenmure answered, “I have been too
late in coming to God, and have deferred
the time of making my account so long,
that I fear I have but the foolish virgins’part
of it, who came and knocked at the door
of the bridegroom too late, and never got
in.” The pastor said, “ My lord, I have
gathered by experience, and observed in
sundry, and especially in your father, that
when they were plunged over head and ears
in the world, and had cast down old barns,
and built up new again, God came in a
month’s space and less, and plucked them
from their deceiving hopes, before ever
they got half a mouthful; and this, my
lord, looketh like your case; for you
know how deep yourself hath been in the
world, in building, planting, parking, seek-
ing honours, and now belike your summons
are to a short day.” Kenmure answered,
“ ’Tis true I have been busy that way;
but my intentions were honest, and only
to free myself of burdens and business.”
Not being content with such a naked an-
swer, the pastor drew the conference about
again to his fear of death, and to a reckon-
ing with the Lord, and said, “ My lord,
you know that it is one of the weightiest
businesses that ever you put your hand to,
l
mendable by repentance; but one wrong
footstep in death is conjoined with eternal
loss ; for there is neither time nor place to
regret of evil and bad dying. Therefore,
I entreat you, my lord, by the mercies of
God,-—by your appearance before Christ,
your judge,—and by the salvation of your
soul, that you would here look ere you leap,
and venture not into eternity without a
certificate under Jesus Christ’s hand.
To this Kenmure replied, “When I begin
to look upon my life, I think all is wrong
in it, and the lateness of my reckoning
affrighteth me: therefore stay with me,
and show me the marks of a child of God;
for you must be my second in this combat,
and wait upon me.” His lady answered,
“ You must have Jesus Christ to be your
second ;” to which he heartily said Amen.
Then said he, “ But how shall I know that
I am in the state of grace’? for till I be re-
solved, my will still overburdens me. You
never did see in me any tokens of true
grace; and that is my only fear.” The
pastor said, “ I was sorry to see you
carried away so fearfully with temptation,
and you know, whether by word or
writ, I did give you faithful warning that
it would come to this. I wish your soul
were deeply humbled for sin. But to your
demand, I thought you ever had a love
for the saints, even the poorest and most
silly, who carried Christ’s image, howbeit
they could never serve nor please you
in any way. By this we know we are
translated from death unto life, because
we love the brethren.” With this remark
he was, after some objections, convinced.
The pastor then asked him, “ My lord, dare
you now quit your part of Christ, and sub-
scribe an absolute resignation of him ?”
My lord said, “ O! Sir, that is too hard.
5 I hope He and I have more to do together;
I will be advised ere I do that.” Then he
to die ; especially seeing judgment is at l asked, “ What mark is it to have judgment
death’s back.
Faults in your life are , to discern a minister called and sent of


326
SCOTS WORTHIES.



God, and an hireling ?” The pastor allowed
it as a good mark also, and cited to him,
A! y sheep know my voice.
At the second conference, the minister
urged the necessity of deep humiliation,
and said, “ My lord, you know Christ
must have such souls to work upon, and
not the whole.” He answered, “ God
knoweth but that is needful. C! if I
could get him. But sin causeth me to be
jealous of his love to such a man as I have
been.” “ Be jealous of yourself, my lord,”
said the pastor, “but not of Jesus Christ,
and know that there is no meeting betwixt
Christ and you, except you be weary and
laclen ; for the commission from the Father
is only to the broken-hearted, to the cap-
tives, to the prisoners, and to the mourners
in Zion.” Whereupon he said with a deep
sigh and with tears, “ God send me that I”
and thereafter reckoned out a number of
sins, which, said he, “are as serpents and
crocodiles before my eyes.” Thereafter he
continued, “ but this hath been a sudden
warning that God hath given me. What
shall I do? I am afraid to die; and Ican
neither win through death, nor about it.”
To this the minister replied, “ My lord,
death and you are strangers. You have
not made your acquaintance with death.
I hope you will tell another tale ere all
the play be ended; and you shall think
death a sweet messenger, who is coming
to fetch you up to your Father’s house.”
Upon this he said with tears, “ God make
it so I” and desired the pastor to pray.
At the third conference, Kenmure said,
“ Death bindeth me strait. Oh! how
sweet a thing is it to seek God in health,
and in time of prosperity to make up our
accounts; for now, through bodily pain,
I am so distempered that I cannot get my
heart framed to think on my account, and
on the life to come.” The pastor remark-
ed, “ It is a part of your battle to fight
against sickness and pain, no less than
temptation.” My lord answered, “ I have
taken the play very long: God hath given
me five and thirty years to repent, and, alas I
I have mispent it, and now I see an ugly
sight.”——T hen he covered his face with a
linen cloth, and burst into tears, and wept
sore. “ My lord,” said the pastor, “they are
far behind that may not follow : think not
your time too late. Christ’s door is yet
half-open : you have time to throng in, and
your time is not all spent as yet : it’s far after
noon, and the back of the day is now come,
yea, the edge of the evening: but run fast
that ye lie not in the fields, and miss your
lodging.” Upon that, his lordship said,
with his eyes lifted up to heaven, “Lord,
how can I run? Draw me, and I shall
run.” The pastor hearing that, desired
him to pray, but he answered nothing ;-—
hearing of his lady and the minister, he
prayed divinely and graciously with tears.
The substance of his prayer was a be-
moaning to God of his weak estate, both
inward and outward; for, said he, “ Lord,
I am oppressed with pain without; sorrow
and fear within. I dare not knock at the
door. I lie at it, but scraping as I may.
till thou come out and take me in. I dare
not speak. I look up to thee, and wait on
for a kiss of Christ’s fair face. Oh! when
wilt thou come T’
At the fourth conference, he, calling for
the pastor, said, “ I charge you go to a
secret place to God, and pray for me, and
take help of others with you, and do it not
for the fashion. I know prayer will bring
Christ out of heaven.” “ My lord,
what shall we seek from God for you?
give us a commission from your own
mouth.” Kenmure answered, “ I charge
you to tell my beloved that I am sick
of love.” Then said the pastor, “ Shall we
seek life and recovery for you ?” He
[ answered, “Yea, if it be God’s good plea-


against sin and death, seeing sickness is a

within one hour after, however, in the

JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE.
327


sure, for I find my fear of death now less,
and I think God is loosing the roots of this
deep-grown tree of my soul, so strongly
fastened to this life.” The pastor said,
“ My lord, you must swear a covenant to
God, that if he restore you to this life again,
you shall renew your obedience to God,
and that Jesus Christ shall be dearer to
your soul than your honours, pleasures,
credit, place, baronies, lands, and all that
you have.” He said, ere the pastor had
ended, “ I believe so, and all too little for
him; and by God’s grace, I bind myself
under the pain of everlasting wrath, to
abide by that covenant, if the Lord shall
restore me.”
After this, his lordship, conceiving hope
of recovery, became exceedingly careless,
remiss, and dead, and seldom called for the
pastor. For the space of two days he con-
tinued so, hoping to recover ; howbeit, upon
no terms would he permit him to go
home to his kirk and fiock till the Lord’s
day was passed. This coldness gave occa-
sion of heaviness to my lady and the pastor
and others, his friends and lovers, seeing
his care for his soul so exceedingly
slacked, and made the pastor go to the
physician, and ask his opinion; who
answered plainly, that there was nothing
for him but death, which would be certain
if his flux returned, which, in effect, did re-
turn. This made the pastor go in to him
and say, “ My lord, I have a necessary
business to impart to you ;” and he said,
“ Say on.” “ You are not aware, my lord,
of a deep and dangerous temptation of the
devil, by which your soul is insnared : You
have conceived hopes to return back again

to this life, but I tell you, ere it be long, '
you shall be presented before the Judge:
of the quick and dead, to receive doom
and sentence according to your works. I .
3 remember how malcontent you were at a
have a warrant for me to say this ; there-
fore I beseech you, my lord, as you ten-
ceived. Ere it be long, time will be no
more with you; eternity is drawing on;
your glass is shorter than you are aware
of; Satan would be glad to steal you out
of this life sleeping.” The physician like-
wise seconded these' words, and faithfully
gave him warning of the danger of his dis»
ease. After these words he took the pastor
by the hand, and said, “ That he experienced
faithful and plain dealing; this man will
not sunder till death sunder us. Now I
will set aside all these things; I know one
thing is needful. It was but the folly of
my deceiving heart, to look back over my
shoulder to this life, when I was fairly on,
once in my journey towards heaven ;”
and therefore he caused all men go
out of the chamber, save only the
pastor, that he might converse with
him concerning the state of his soul.”
After prayer, the pastor said, “ My lord,
I perceive I have been deceived, and your
lordship also; for your joy, I fear, hath
not been well rooted, neither your humilia-
tion so deep as need were ;—we must
dig deeper to seek a lower foundation;
for, when I think of your coldness in
devotion, and your untimely relenting in the
necessary works of making your reckoning
with your Judge, upon vain conceived hope
of recovery of health, I see certainly the
work is not sure,—one pin is loose. Your
lordship knows, that this church and
country have been grievously offended at
many gross and open sins in you, both
against the first and second table of the
law.” Upon this, the pastor burdened him
with sundry particulars, and told him plain-
ly, and said, “ My lord, my mistake of the
case of your soul has been from hence,
that you have never cleared yourself of
many predominant and bosom sins, whereof
I both spoke and wrote to you, and may
sharp letter of many particulars that I wrote
der your own soul’s salvation. be not de- to your lordship; and how, at your house




328
SCOTS WORTHIES.



at Rusco, you made half a challenge of it
to me; for I found you always witty to
shift and cover anything whereof you were
rebuked. Howbeit, at my first coming to
this country, when you sided too much with
a gentleman of your name, who killed a
man vilely, you promised willingly to re-
ceive and take in good part, what I freely
told your lordship was amiss.” Where-
upon my lord reckoned up a number of
fearful sins, and amongst others, he ingen-
uously and freely confessed his sin in de-
serting the last parliament, and said, “ God
knoweth I did it with the fearful wrestlings
of my conscience, my light paying me home
within, when I seemed to be glad and joy-
ful before men; yet I did it for fear of
incurring the indignation of my prince, and
the loss of further honour, which I certain-
ly expected; but wo! wo! to honour or any-
thing else, bought with the loss of peace
of conscience, and God’s favour.”
The pastor being struck with fear and
astonishment at the reckoning of those
fearful sins which my lord had kept close,
—notwithstanding such fair appearance
of a sound grace in his soul, as he had
conceived—stood up, and read to him
the first eight verses of the 6th chapter
of the Hebrews, and discoursed to him
of the far on-going of reprobates in the
way of heaven, and of their taste of the
good word of God, and of the virtues of
the life to come, and yet are true repro-
bates; and cited also Bev. xxi,—“ But the
fearful, and the unbelieving, and the
abominable, and murderers, shall have
their part in the lake that burneth with
fire and brimstone; which is the second
death ;”—and told him what everlasting
l
l
burning was; and with that, the pastor‘
turned his back, and said, “ Now, my lord, ‘
I have not one word of mercy from the
Lord to say to you; God hath sealed up
my lips, that I dare speak nothing to you
but one thing, the wrath and ire of God '

Almighty.” My lord hearing this with
tears, cried out so that they heard him in
the withdrawing room, and in all the
houses about; then he said, “God, armed
in wrath, is coming against me to beat out
my brains. I would die ; I would not die;
I dare not live ; O! what a burden the hand
of an angry God! O! what shall I do! Is
there no hope of mercy?” Then in a
fearful agony he lay a long time weep-
ing; so that those who attended ran
in and said the pastor had no skill; he
would kill him; and others said, I pray
you beware, you will not fail to thrust him
into despair. The pastor, not content with
those words, bore with them, however, but
went to a quiet place, and sought fi~om
God his salvation, and words from God to
speak to his lordship. Some said that the
pastor was a miserable comforter. After
this, another minister came to visit him,
to whom Kenmure said, “ He hath slain
me ;” and before the pastor could answer
anything for himself, said further, “ Not
he, but the Spirit of God in him.” “ No !”
said the pastor, “ Not I, but the law hath
slain you. And, my lord, I say yet again,
the God of heaven hath a terrible process
against your father’s house, and a deep and
bloody controversy with the stones and
furniture of the house of Kenmure; and,
my lord, your name is in the process ; see
how you can free yourself. God is not
mocked.” The other minister read to him
the history of Manasses, his most wicked
life, and how the Lord was entreated of
him, and gave him mercy ; but the former
pastor went still upon wrath, and asked
him, saying, “My lord, you are extremely
pained, I know, both in body and mind;
what think you of the lake of fire and brim-
stone, of everlasting burnings, and of utter
darkness with the devil and his angels?”
To which he replied, “ W0 is me; what
can I think of it ! I think if I should suffer
my thoughts to dwell upon it any space


JOHN GORDON, VISCOUNT KENMURE.
329




it were enough to cause me to go out of
my wits; but I pray you what shall my
soul do?” The pastor answered, “ I am
where I was: God knoweth I dissemble
not; I have not one word of mercy to
say to you; only I know Christ hath not
given out the doom against you; the sen-
tence is yet suspended; therefore, mourn
and sorrow for the offending of your God.”
“ What, my lord,” added the pastor, “if
Christ had given out a sentence of con-
demnation, and come to your bedside,
and told you of it, would you not still love
him, and trust in him, and hang upon him?”
Kenmure said, “ God knoweth, I durst
not challenge him; yea, howbeit he should
not love me, yet I will still love him; yea,
though the Lord should slay me, yet will
I trust in him: I will lie down at God’s
feet; let him trample upon me ; I will die,
if I die at Christ’s feet.” Finding my
lord claiming kindred to Christ, and
hearing him cry often, “ Oh! Son of God,
where art thou? When wilt thou come to
me? Oh, for a love look!” the pastor
said, “ Is it possible, my lord, that you can
love and long for Christ, and he not love
and long for you ? Or can love and kind-
ness stand only on your side? Is your
poor, weak, unworthy love greater than
infinite love, seeing he hath said, ‘Can
a woman forget her sucking child, that
she should not have compassion on the son
of her womb? yea, she may forget, yet
will I not forget thee.’ ‘ Behold I have
graven thee on the palms of my hands.’
And therefore your loving and longing
for Christ is a fire of God’s kindling. My ,
lord, persuade yourself you are graven on
the palms of God’s hands.”
smile, looked about to a gentleman, a good


not brave talking?” The pastor finding
him weaker, said, “ My lord, the marriage
feast is drawing near; make ready the
marriage robes; set aside all care of your
estate and the world; and give yourself to
meditation, prayer, and spiritual confer-
ence.” He was observed, after that, to be
always in that exercise; and when none
was near him, he was overheard praying;
and many times, when we thought he was
sound sleeping, he was at prayer. After
a sleep he called for the pastor, and said,
“I have been troubled in my sleep with
this, that being at peace with God, I am
not also at peace with men; and, therefore,
send for such a kinsman (with whom I am
reconciled), as also for a minister that had
before offended me, that I may shake hands
withthem;” which was done quickly. When
the preacher came, he said, “ I have ground
of offence against you, as a natural man,
and now I do to you what all men breath-
ing could not have moved me to do; but
now because the Holy Spirit commands
me, I must obey, and therefore I freely for-
give you, as I would wish you to forgive
me. You are in an eminent place; walk
before God, and be faithful in your calling,
and take heed to your steps; walk in the
right road; hold your eye right; for all
the world, decline not from holiness, and
take example by me.” He wished the pas-
tor to sleep in a bed made upon the ground
beside him, within the chamber, and urged
him against his will to lie down and sleep,
and said, “ You and I have a far journey to
go; make you for it.” Some four nights
before his death, he would drink a cup of
‘ wine to the pastor, who answered, “ I re-
l ceive it, my lord, in hope you shall drink
Upon this, his lordship, with a hearty!
Christian, whom he had commanded to at- 1
tend his body till his dying hour, and said,
" I am written upon the palms of Christ’s
hands ; he will not forget me. Is this

of the pure river of the water of life, pro-
ceeding from the throne of God, and of
the Lamb ;” and when the cup was in his
hand, with a smiling countenance he said,
“ I think I have good cause to drink with
a good will to you.”
Q 'r


330
sco'rs WORTHIES.



.A.._____ _

After some heaviness, the pastor said,
“ My lord, I come with news to you.” He
inquired, “ What are they ?” The pastor
replied, “ Be not afraid of death and judg-
ment, because the process that your Judge
had against you is cancelled and rent in
pieces, and Jesus Christ hath trampled it
under his feet: your dittay is burnt.” My
lord said, veryv pithily, with a smile, “ O!
that is a lucky tale: Iwill then believe and
rejoice; for sure I am that Jesus Christ and
I once met, and will he not come again ?”
The pastor said, “ My lord, you have gotten
the first-fruits of the Spirit—the earnest;
and Christ will not lose his earnest:
therefore the bargain betwixt Christ and
you holdeth.” He then asked him,
“ What is Christ like, that I may know
him ?” “ He is like love, and altogether
lovely,” said the pastor; “love cannot but
be known wheresoever it is. My lord,
if you had the man Christ in your arms
now, would you not thrust him to your
heart, howbeit your heart and side be
pained with a stitch?” He answered,

{
1
l
“ God knoweth, I would forget my pain, I
and thrust him into my heart; yea, if I
had my heart in the palm of my hand, I
would give it him, and think it too un—
worthy a gift for him.” He complained of
Jesus Christ’s going and coming. “ I find,”
said he, “my soul drowneth with heaviness:
when the Lord cometh, he stayeth not
long.” The pastor said, “ Wooers dwell
not together; but married folks take up
house together, and sunder not. Jesus
Christ is now wooing, and therefore he
feedeth his own with hunger, which is as i
Encourage others that stand for the Lord.
growing meat, as the sense of his presence.”
After a sound sleep, in the dawning, the
pastor said, “ My lord, where lay Christ all
night? Did not your well-beloved lie as

l
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I
I
I
I

a bundle of myrrh betwixt your breasts ?” He answered, “ Nay, not betwixt my breasts, I had such an occasion again, to testify my
but betwixt my breasts locked in my heart.” i love to the Lord ! For all the earth, should
He asked, “ When willmy heart be loosed, l I not do as I have done.”

and my tongue untied, that I may express
the sweetness of the love of God to my
soul '5” and, before the pastor answered
anything, he answered himself, “ even when
the wind bloweth.” Being asked, “ what was
his judgment concerning the ceremonies
now entered in the kirk of God ?” “ I
think, and am persuaded in my conscience,"
said he, “ they are superstitious, idola-
trous, and antichristian, and come from hell,
and I repute it a mercy, that my eyes shall
not see the desolation that shall come upon
this poor church. It’s plain popery that
is coming among you ; God help me I God
forgive the nobility! for they are either key—
cold, or ready to welcome popery; whereas
they should resist; and W0 be to a dead,
time-serving, and profane ministry; they
are but a company of dumb dogs!” He
called his lady, and a gentleman who was
a friend to her, and who had come a good
way to meet him with the pastor, causing
; the chamber door to be shut upon all others,
and from his bed directed his speech to the
gentleman, saying, “ I ever found you kind
and honest to me all the time of my life;
therefore, I must now give you a charge,
which you shall deliver to all the noblemen
you know, and with whom you are ac-
quainted. Tell them all how heavy I have
found the weight of the Lord’s hand upon
me, for not giving testimony to the Lord my
God, when I had occasion once in my life
at the last parliament. For this foul fault,
how fierce have I felt the wrath of the
Lord my God! My soul hath raged and
roared. I have been grieved to the heart.
Tell them that they will be as I am now.
Tell them that failed, that, as even they
would wish to have mercy when they are
as I am now, that they should repent and
crave mercy from God. Would to God


JOHN GORDON, VISUOUNT KENMURE.
331



Upon Friday morning, the 12th of Sep-
tember, the day of his departure from this
life, he said to the pastor, “ This night must
I sup with Jesus Christ in paradise.”
After prayer, he said, “ I conceive good
hopes that God looketh on me, when he ‘
gives his servants such liberty to pray for
me. Is it possible that Jesus Christ can
lose his hold of me ? Neither can my soul
get itself plucked from Jesus Christ.” He
earnestly desired a sense of God’s presence;
and the pastor said, “ What, my lord, if that
be suspended till you come to your home,
and be before the throne, clothed in white,
and get your harp in your hand, to sing
salvation to the Lamb, and to him that
sitteth on the throne; for that is heaven;
and who dare promise it to you on earth ?
There is a piece of nature in desiring a
sense of God’s love; it being an apple that
the Lord’s children delight to play with.
But, my lord, if you would have it only as
a pledge of your salvation, we shall seek it
from the Lord for you, and you may law-
fully pray for it.” Earnest prayers were
made for him, and he testifi ed that he was
filled with a sense of the Lord’s love.
Being asked what he thought of the world,
he answered, “ It is more bitter than gall
or Wormwood.” Being demanded if now
he feared death, he answered, “ I have
tasted death now. It is not a whit bitter :
welcome the messenger of Jesus Christ!”
He never left off mourning for his sins,
especially his deserting the parliament.
To which the pastor said, “ There is a pro-
cess between the Lord and your father’s
house, but your name is taken out of it. ;
How dear, dear, was heaven bought fori
you by your Saviour, Jesus Christ l”—“ I
know there is wrath against my father’s
house, but I shall get my soul for a prey ;”
which words he had frequently in his mouth.
Ofttimes also he said, “ Is not this a sweet
word that God saith, ‘ As I live, I delight
not in the death of a sinner?’ I will not 1


let go the hold that I have got of Christ:
‘ Though he should slay me, yet will Itrust
in him,’ and lie at his feet and die there;
and lie at his door, like a beggar, waiting
on him, and if I may not knock, I may
scrape.” He had another expression very
often,—“ Oh, Son of God! one love-blink,
one smile 1” After he had been in a deep
meditation on his change of life, he put this
question, “ What will Jesus Christ be like
when he cometh ?” It was answered, “ All
lovely.” On this day he said to the doctor,
“ I thought to have been dissolved ere now.”
The pastor answered, “ My lord, weary not
of the Lord’s yoke: Jesus Christ is posting
fast to be at you; he is within a few miles.”
He answered mildly, “ This is my infirmity.
I will wait on; he is worthy the on-waiting.
Though he be long in coming, yet I dare
say he is coming, leaping over the moun-
tains, and skipping over the hills. If he
were once come, we shall not sunder.”
The pastor said, “ Some have gotten their
fill of Christ in this life ; though he is often
under a mask to his own. Even his best
saints, Job, David, Jeremiah, 820., were
under desertions.” His lordship answered,
“ What are those examples to me I I am
not in holiness near to Job, David, or
Jeremiah.” The minister replied, “ It
is true, my lord, you cannot take so wide
steps as they did, but you are in the same ‘
way with them. A young child followeth
his father at the back; and though he can-
not take such wide steps as he, yet this
hindereth him not to be in the same way
with him. My lord, your hunger over-
cometh your faith,—only believe his word.
You are longing for Christ,-—only believe
he is faithful, and will come quickly.” To
this Kenmure said, “ I think it time;
Lord Jesus, come 1” Then said the pastor,
“ My lord, our nature is in trouble to be
wholly upon our own deliverance ; whereas
God seeketh first to be glorified in our
faith, and patience, and hope; and then it




332
SCOTS WORTHIES.








is time enough that we be delivered.” He replied, “ By no means.” This was the
answered, “ There is good reason that my
Lord be first served. Lord, give me to
wait on; only, Lord, burn me not to dross.”
Another said, “ Cast back your eyes, my
lord, on what you have received, and be
thankful.” At the hearing whereof, he
presently brake forth in praising of God;
and finding himself weak, and his speech
failing, more than an hour before his death,
he desired the pastor to pray,——which he
did. After prayer, the minister cried in
his ear, “My lord, can you now sunder
with Christ?” He said nothing; nor
was it expected he would speak any more.
Yet a little after, the minister asked,
“ Have ye any sense of the Lord’s love '5”
He answered, “ I have sense.” The pastor
said, “ Do you not enjoy ?” He answered,
“ I do enjoy.”
“ Will ye not sunder with Christ?”
Thereafter said the pastor, '
He '




last word, not being able to speak any
more. The pastor then asked if he should
pray. Kenmure turned his eye towards
him. In the time of that last prayer, he
was observed smiling joyfully, looking up
with glorious looks, as was observed by
the beholders, and with a certain splendour
his visage was beautified, as comely as
ever he was in his life. He expired with
loud and strong fetches and sobs, being
strong of heart and body, of the age of five
and thirty years. The expiring of his
breath, the ceasing of the motion of his
pulse (which the physician was still hold-
ing), ceased all precisely with the Amen of
his prayer, and so he died sweetly and holily,
and his end was peace. He departed about
the setting of the sun, September the 12th.
1634.
“ Blessed are they who die in the Lord.”


ROBERT CUNNINGHAM.

Or the birth-place and early life of this
godly man, nothing seems to be known.
The first notice we have concerning him
is, that after having qualified himself for
the ministry, he was appointed chaplain to
a regiment commanded by the duke of
Buccleugh, at that time in Holland. He l
was afterwards settled minister at Holy-
rood, in Ireland, some time before Mr Blair’s
appointment to Bangor, with whom he
established an acquaintance which proved

a source of great comfort and usefulness to
both. .
He applied himself so closely to the work
of the ministry, and took so much delight
in preaching, that when in the pulpit, he
seemed like a fish in the water, or a bird
in the air. There he considered that a
christian minister might enjoy much fellow-
ship with Christ, and at the same time do
him the most acceptable of all services;
always bearing in mind what the Saviour




ROBERT CUNNINGHAM.
333


said to Peter,—“ Feed my lambs—feed
mv sheep!”
1/
He continued to exercise his ministry at ‘
Holyrood, as a faithful pastor among the
flock over whom he had been appointed
overseer, until several of his brethren were
deposed and ejected by the bishops; at
which time the bishop of Down threatened
Mr Blair with a prosecution against him-
self, Cunningham, and several others. To
this Blair replied, “Ye may do with me
and some others as you please; but if ever
ye meddle with Mr Cunningham, your cup
will be full.” And indeed he was longer
spared than any of the rest, which was
a great blessing to their flocks; for, after
they were ejected, he preached every week
in one or other of their kirks. But the
severe exercise to which he thus subjected
himself, both at home and abroad, gradu-
ally undermined his constitution, which at
no former period had been remarkable for
vigour.
When Blair and Livingstone were sum-
moned to appear before the bishop to hear ,
their deposition, they went, the night pre-
vious, to take leave of Cunningham; and,
having done so, they were not a little sur-
prised next day, when he came up to them
as they were going to the church of Par-
philips. After
having asked what was the cause of this
unexpected appearance, Cunningham re--
plied :—“ I have been troubled all night
with that passage—At my first answer no
man stood with me ; therefore I am come
to stand by you.” However, being very
offensive to the prelatical clergy in that
part of the country, it was not to be ex-
pected that he should be permitted to ex-
ercise his ministry long; and therefore he
was ejected from his charge, in August,
1636, along with others of his faithful
brethren. The episcopalian party being
powerfully predominant, and not knowing
mutual salutations, and



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1
what cruelty might yet be in reserve for him, ‘,
he entertained, for a short time, the idea of
emigrating to New England; but Provi—
dence, in his wisdom, overruled the inten-
tion. Being obliged to leave Ireland, in
company with a number of his suffering
: brethren, he landed at Irvine, in Scotland,
where, having caught fever, he soon bade
adieu to all his earthly sufferings, on the
27th March, 1637.
He was a man much under deep exer-
cise of mind; and, although in his public
ministrations he complained sometimes of
the want of divine illumination and assis-
tance; yet, it was remarked, that even at
these times his sermons were found most
edifying and refreshing; being carried
through with a full gale, and using more
piercing expressions than many others.
TESTIMONY
OF
ROBERT CUNNINGHAM.
The day before his death, the members
of the presbytery of Irvine paid him a visit,
whom he exhorted to be faithful to Christ
and his cause, and to oppose the Service-
book then pressed upon the church. “ The
bishop,” said he, “ hath taken my ministry
from me, and I may say my life also,—for
my ministry is dearer to me than my life.”
During his illness, besides many other
gracious expressions, he said ;—-“ I see
Christ standing over Death’s head, saying,
‘ Deal warily with my servant; loose thou
this pin, then that pin; for his tabernacle
must be set up again !’” A little before
his departure, as his wife was sitting by his
bedside, with his hand in hers, he recom~
mended in prayer to God, the whole church
of Ireland, the parish of Holyrood, his per-
secuted brethren, and his children; adding
at the same time, these words-—“ Lord, I
recommend this gentlewoman to thee, who
is no more my wife ;”——and, with that he
softly disengaged his hand from. hers, and


334
SCOTS WORTHIES.



gently put it a little distance from him. AU sions, and with the Lord’s servant of old,
this she and several of those who were pre- “ having served his own generation, by
sent burst into tears; but he endeavoured to = the will of God he fell asleep,” and was
comfort them with many heavenly expres- gathered unto his fathers.

JAMES MITCHELL.

THIS exemplary youth was the son of James
Mitchell of Dykes, factor to the earl of
Eglinton; a man of singular piety and
godliness. The subject of this narrative
was born about the year 1621 ; and, after
receiving a liberal education, was sent to
the university of St Andrews, when very
young; where his progress in literature
was so rapid and sure, that by the time he
had reached his eighteenth year, he had
attained to the distinguished honour of
Master of Arts. Soon after this he re-
turned to his father’s house, where he re-
mained for nearly two years and a half,
pursuing his studies with unwearicd dili-
gence, and the Lord blessing his exertions
with remarkable success. In these he was
greatly assisted by the kindness of Mr
Robert Baillie, minister of Kilwinning,
who lent him books, aided him by his
counsel, and gave directions for the order
of his studies.
About this time he was selected by lady
Houston, to superintend the education of
her eldest son at college ; and in this em-
ployment he continued other two years and
a half, during which time the Lord blessed
his own studies exceedingly. Besides the
marks of attention shown him by Baillie,
he was also particularly noticed by Mr

Dickson, then a professor in the university
of Glasgow, and enabled to pass his trials
for the ministry, with much satisfaction.
Having obtained license to preach the
gospel, he made his first public appearances
in the parishes of Kilwinning and Stevens-
ton, where he made such an eminent dis-
play, as to call forth the gratitude of all who
heard him, that the Lord had been pleased
to call into his service, a man who gave such
powerful indications of future usefulness.
In the end of Autumn, 1643, he returned
to Glasgow with his pupil, and applied
himself with untiring diligence, both to
his own mental improvement, and that of
the young man who had been placed under
his charge. There he preached repeatedly,
pleasing, both by his manner and doctrine,
all who loved Christ and his cause and
gospel. In confirmation of this, three of
the excellent ministers of that period,
Baillie, Dickson, and Ramsay, told his
father that he had much reason to bless
God for the eminent talents conferred
upon his son, and for the gifts and graces
so conspicuously bestowed upon him,—
adding what was of far higher importance,
that the Lord had in reality made a saving
change upon his heart, and was dealing
very graciously with his soul.




JAMES MITCHELL.
335


Mitchell had given himself much to
prayer, and the study of the Scriptures, and
reading therein was now become his delight;
but the Lord having other thoughts con-
cerning him, in a short time all these high
expectations of him in the ministry were
frustrated. By his extreme abstinence,
indefatigable application to study without
necessary bodily exercise, drinking too
copiously ‘of water, with other inattentions
to bodily health, he contracted a disease,
which soon after terminated his days. His
body began to decay, for want of appetite,
and his constitution very soon gave way.
Dickson was extremely grieved at his con-
dition, and took him to his own house for
fifteen days, in the hope that his health
might improve; but as there was no
change for the better, he went to Houston,
and remained as long there. The atten-
tions of lady Houston and her daughter
were very great ; not only for the care he
had bestowed upon his young scholar,
but also for the rare gifts and graces
which God had conferred upon him.
Baillie was in London at the time. At
length his father having sent for him, he
returned home. After the first day of his
journey, he remained all night with Ralston;

and, the laird of Ducathall being there,
he accompanied Mitchell the rest of the
way; because in consequence of his extreme
weakness, it was frequently necessary for
him to alight and rest, not being able to
ride more than two miles at a time.
After he arrived at his father’s house, he
rose and dressed himself every day for
fifteen days ; but, after that, till the day of
his death, which was ten weeks after, he
was confined constantly to bed. During
all that time, however, he experienced large

measures of mercy and grace, both in body ;
and soul. His body, from complete ex-
haustion, was reduced to that of a skeleton;
but his countenance continued pleasant,
comely, and well-coloured to the last.
During the last five or six weeks of his life,
he was attended by three or four persons,
and sometimes more, at a time; but they
never had reason to weary. On the con-
trary they were refreshed daily by the
many wise, sweet, and gracious discourses
that proceeded outof his mouth. His last
words were these :——“ Lord, open the gates
that I may enter in !”-——and, shortly after.
his father asking what he was doing,—-he
lifted up his hands, and caused all his
fingers to twirl. With this, in the pre-
sence of many honest neighbours, he yielded
up his spirit, and went to his rest, a little
after sunrise, on the 11th of June, 1643,
being then only twenty-three years of age.
Thus, in the bloom of youth, did this
amiable person end his earthly warfare,
and enter into his heavenly inheritance,—
a young man, but a ripe christian; and,
it was remarked, that three special gifts
had been' vouchsafed to him by his Divine
Master; viz., a notable invention, a great
memory, and a ready expression. Among
other fruits of his meditation and industry,
he drew up a model of preaching, which he
entitled-—“ The Method of Preaching.”
Besides this, he left many other manu-
scripts; none of which, however. were ever
published.
TESTIMONY
OF
JAMES MITCHELL.
During his illness, Mitchell was posses-
sed of all patience and submission, and never
was heard to murmur in the least; but
often thought his Master’s time well worth
waiting on. He was frequently much re-
freshed by seeing and hearing good and
gracious neighbours, who came to visit him;
so that he had little reason with Heman,
to complain, “ Lover and friend hast thou
put far from me, and mine acquaintance
into darkness.”


336
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Among other gracious sayings, he de-
claimed much against imprudent speaking,
wishing it might be amended, especially in
students and young ministers ; as being but
the froth and vanity of a foolish mind. He
; lamented the pride of many such in usurp-
ing a priority of place, which became them
not, and exclaimed frequently against him-
self for his own practice; yet said he was
in the strength of God brought to mortify
the same. He frequently exhorted his
parents to carry themselves to one another
as the word of God required, and above all
things to fear God, and delight in his word.
He often said, that he dearly loved the
Book of God, and sought them to be earnest
in prayer, showing that it was an unknown
thing, and a thing of another world, and
that the influence of prayer behoved to
come out of heaven; and that the spirit of
supplication must be wrestled for, else all
prayer would be but lifeless and natural.
He mentioned, that being once with lady
Houston, and some country gentlemen at
Baglas, the spirit of prayer and supplica-
tion was poured upon him, in such a power-
ful and lively manner, two several days
before dinner, that all present were much
affected, and shed tears in abundance ; and
that yet at night he found himself so
emptied and dead, that he durst not ven-
ture to pray any at all these two nights,
but went to bed, and was much vexed and
cast down, none knowing the reason. By
this he was from that time convinced, that
the dispensation and influence of spiritual
and lively prayer came only from Heaven,
and from no natural abilities that were
in man.
On one occasion, the laird of Cunning-
ham coming to visit him, as he did fre-
quently, he enumerated all the remarkable
passages of God’s goodness and providence
towards him, especially since he began to
grow weaker; in showing infinite mercy to
his soul, tender compassion towards his

body, patience and submission to his will
without grudging, calmness of spirit with-
out passion, solid and constant peace within
and without! “ This,” said he, “ is far
beyond the Lord’s manner of dealing with
many of his dear saints; and now, Sir, think
ye not that I stand greatly indebted to the
goodness and kindness of God, who deals
thus graciously and warmly with me every
way?” After this he burst out in praise to
God in a sweet and lively manner.
At another time, the laird being present,
Mitchell looking out of his bed to the sun
shining brightly on the opposite side of the
house, said, “ O what a splendour and glory
will all the elect and redeemed saints have
one day! and O! how much more will the
glory of the Creator be, who shall com~
municate that glory to all his own; but
the shallow thoughts of men are not able
to conceive the excellency thereof!”
Again, Mr Macqueen being present, his
father inquired at him wherein our com-
munion with God stood? He said, “ in
reconciliation and peace with him, which
is the first effect of our justification :” then,
he observed, there is access and love to
God, patience and submission to his will,
&c.; then the Lord manifests himself to
us, as Christ says himself, “ Ye shall know
that I am in the Father, and you in me,
and I in you.” And again, “ He that loveth
me, shall be loved of my Father, and I will
love him, and manifest myself unto him.”
One morning, to Hugh Macgavin and
his father he said, “ I am not afraid of
death, for I rest on infinite mercy, procured
by the blood of the Lamb.” Then he
spake as to himself, “ Fear not, little flock,
it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you
the kingdom :” and then said, “ What are
these who are of this little flock? Even
sinners. ‘ I came not to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance.’ ”
Another morning, he said twice, “My
soul longeth for the Lord more than



JAMES MITCHELL.
337



they that watch for the morning ” At
another time, perceiving his father weep-
ing, he said, “ I cannot blame you to
mourn, for I know you have thought that
I might, with God’s blessing, have proved
a comfortable child to you; but comfort
yourself in this, that ere it be long, I will
be at a blessed rest, and in a far better ,;
state than I can be in this life, flee from
sin and every kind of misery; and within a
short time ye will follow after me. In
the mean time encourage yourself in the
Lord, and let not your mourning be like
those who have no hope. What reason have
I to bless God, who in mercy is timously
removing me from all trouble, and will
make me as welcome to heaven as if I had.
preached forty years; for he knew it was
my intention,by his grace to have honoured
him in my ministry; and seeing he has
accepted the will for the deed, what reason
have I to complain ?—for now I am willing
and ready to be dissolved, and to be with
Christ, which is best of all; wherefore, dear
father, comfort yourself with this.”
Concerning sin in the godly, his father
said to him, “ I am sure you are not now
troubled with corruption, being so near
death.” He answered, “ You are altogether
deceived ; for as long as my foot remaineth
on this earth, though the earth were trans-
lated above the clouds, my mind would not
be free of sinful notions.” Some time
before his death, he fell into fainting fits.
About ten or twelve days before his disso-
lution, he fell into one, and was speechless
for nearly an hour, so that none present
had any hope that he would again recover;
but in the mean time he was absorbed in
divine contemplation. He began to re-
cover at last, and, his heart being enlarged,
he. opened his mouth with such lively ex- 1
hortations as affected all present; and,l

directing his speech to his father, he said,
“ Be glad, Sir, to see your son, yea, I say
your second son, made a crowned king !”
To his mother also, he said, “ Be of good
courage, and mourn not for me, for ye will
find me in the all-sufliciency of God ;” and
then exclaimed, “ O death, I give thee a
defiance, through Jesus Christ !”——saying
to the on-lookers, “ Sirs, this will be a
‘ blithe and joyful good night!”
In the mean time Mr Bell came in, and
to him he said, “ Sir, you are welcome as
witness to see me fight out my last fight!”
After this he fell quiet, and got some rest.
Within two days, Mr Bell having come to
visit him again, he said, “ O Sir, but I was
glad the last night you were here, when I
thought to be dissolved, that I might have
met with my Master, and have enjoyed his
presence for ever ; but I was much grieved,
when I perceived a little reviving, and that
I was likely to live longer!” And to Mr
Gabriel Cunningham, he said, “ O! how
sweet a thing it were for a man to sleep to
death in the arms of Christ.” He had
many other lively and comfortable speeches,
which were not remembered; not a day
passing during the time of his sickness, but
the attendants were refreshed by him.
The night before his departure, he was
sensible of great pain. Upon this he said,
“ I see it is true, we must enter into heaven
through trouble, but the Lord will help us
through it.” Then he said, “ I have great
pain, but mixed with great mercy, and
strong confidence.” He called to mind the
saying of John Knox on his deathbed, “ I
do not esteem that pain, which will be to
me an end of all trouble, and the beginning
of eternal felicity!” His last words were
these: “ Lord, Opfll the gates that I may
enter in l”
21:
388
SCOTS WORTHIES.







ALEXANDER HENDERSON.

IT is to be regretted that no authentic ac-
count can be obtained of Henderson’s
parentage, birth, and education. Tradition
informs us, that he was but of humble birth,
having been the son of a feuar, and born
in a house, now demolished, between the
villages of Lithrie and Brunton. The
parish of Creich, in Fife, too, claims the
honour of his birth; but the minister of
that place, after much inquiry, and patient
investigation into everything connected
with Henderson’s history, has not been

!
l
able to come to such a conclusion, and the j
baptismal records‘ of that parish do not'
extend further‘back than 1688, or 1668.
Wodrow, in his memorial to Dr Fraser,
says—“ He was born anno , of parents
of good esteem, and descended from the
family of F ordel, in Fife, an old family,
and of good repute.” _ The accurate and
indefatigable biographer, Chambers, also,
in writing upon this subject, says—-“ For
my own part, I have not the least doubt
but that Alexander Henderson was of the
Fordel family.” The Hendersons them-
selves, farther, claim kindred to the Cove-
nanter, and have always been proud to
name him as a cadet of their family. The
accredited account, therefore is, that this
was his origin, and we learn from his
monumental inscription, that he was born
in the year 1583. '
That his parents had been in easy cir-
cumstances appears from the liberal educa-
tion he received in his youth; and, it is
farther obvious, that he was destined for
one of the learned professions. Having

i
was matriculated in the college of St Sal-
vator, on the 19th of December, 1599. In
1603, he took the degree of Master of
Arts; and in 1610, we find him a Pro—
fessor, and also Questor of the Society of
Arts.
At this period, his feelings were strongly
in favour of episcopacy, and upon his
admission to holy orders, he was presented
by the archbishop to the parish of
Leuchars,8k in the presbytery of St
Andrews; but his sentiments on religion
being well-known, everything was done
to obstruct his settlement. Accordingly
on the day appointed for his ordination,
the parishioners met in a body to oppose
his induction; and so violent was their
determination, that although no actual
attack was made upon the clergymen pre-
sent, the church doors had been previously
made fast inside, so that entrance could not
be effected by that way. Henderson and
his friends, however, were resolute; and
having got in by a window, the solemnities
of the day were gone through without
further annoyance. But he was looked
upon as an intruder,--a hireling, and not
the shepherd of the sheep, and his minis-
trations were consequently not attended
by the great body of the people. This
state of things, however, was not of long
continuance; for, in about two or three
years after, a change began to take place
A desire to guide his people
in his mind.
* In the Biographia Scotz'cana, it is said that
Henderson was admitted to the parish of Leuchars,
about the year 1620; but Dr M‘Crie mentions
made choice of the ministry’ he Was Sent that he must have entered to that charge, during
t0 the university Of St Andrews, where he 1 the year 1615, or perhaps, somewhat sooner.



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ALEXA NDER HENDERSON.
339



into the way of truth had begun to be more
and more apparent; and before he was
aware of it, he had fallen into the ranks
of those who had been most opposed to him.
While Henderson’s mind was in this
unsettled state, a very remarkable incident
occurred; which, though in itself apparently
unimportant, evidently appears to have’
been heaven-directed.
Having heard of a communion in the
neighbourhood, at which the famous Mr
Bruce, minister of Kinnaird, was to be an
assistant, he went thither secretly; and
not wishing to attract observation, placed
himself in a dark corner of the church,
where he might not be readily seen or
known. Bruce, having come into the
pulpit, paused for a little, as was his usual
manner, a circumstance which excited
Henderson’s surprise; but it astonished
him much more when he heard him read
as his text, these very striking words, “ He
that entereth not in by the door, but
climbeth up some other way, the same is a
THIEF and a RoBBER;”--which words, by
the blessing of God, and the efifectual
working of the Holy Spirit, took such hold
on him at that very instant, and left such
an impression on his heart afterwards, that
they proved the very first means of his
conversion to Christ. Ever after he
retained a great affection for Bruce, and
used to make mention of him with marks
of the highest respect.
Henderson now began to look upon the
conduct of the prevailing party in the
church with a different eye from what he
had done formerly, when guided by a
worldly spirit, and by views of ambition.
He, however, judged it proper to give the
existing controversy a deliberate investiga-
; portunity of publicly declaring his change

of mind, and of appearing on the side of
that cause which he had hitherto discoun-
tenanced. From the time that the pre-
latic government had first been obtruded
upon the church, a plan had been laid to
assimilate her worship also to the English
model. After various preparatory steps,
an Assembly was suddenly called at Perth,
in the year 1618; in which, by the most
undue influence, a number of superstitious
innovations were authorized?!‘: Among
those ministers who had the courage to
oppose these, and who argued against
them with great force of truth, but
without success, we find the name- of
Alexander Henderson of Leuehars.
In the month of August, 1619, he, with
other two ministers, were called before the
court of high commission at St Andrews,
charged with composing and publishing a
book proving the nullity of the Perth
Assembly, and with raising a contribution
to defray the expense of printing it. They
appeared and answered for themselves
with such wisdom, that the bishops could
gain no advantage over them. They were
therefore obliged to dismiss them with
threatenings. From this period till the
year 1637, it does not appear that he
suffered much, although he continued to
be watched with a jealous eye, and to be
cramped in his exertions for promoting the
cause of truth and holiness. The time
which he spent, however, in this retirement,
though obscure on the page of history, was
not the least useful period of his life.
Living sequestered in his parish, and
excluded from taking any share in the
management of the ecclesiastical affairs
of the nation, he had leisure to push his
tion ; the result of which was, that he found ( inquiries into the eXtenSWe field Of ‘(1190'
episcopacy to be unauthorized by the
word of God, and inconsistent with the
reformed constitution of the Church of
v

Scotland. He did not long want an op- _
logy, and the history of the church, and
to lay up those stores of knowledge which
* Five Articles of Perth, already referred t0-







340
SCOTS WORTHIES.



he afterwards had an opportunity of dis-
seminating. The discharge of his pas-
toral duties furnished him with daily
employment, and the success which at-
tended his visitations yielded him the
purest gratifications. Besides this, he met
occasionally with brethren of the same
mind, at fasts and communions, when they,
by sermons and conferences, encouraged
one another in adhering to the good old
principles of the Church of Scotland, and
ioined in fervent supplications to God for
the remedy of those evils under which they
groaned. Livingstone mentions Henderson
as one of those “ godly and able ministers”
with whom he became acquaintedin attend-
ing those solemn occasions, between the years
1626 and 1630, “the memory of whom,”
says he, “is very precious and refreshing.”
At length the time for delivering the
Church of Scotland arrived. In 1636, a
book of ecclesiastical canons was sent
down from England, and in the course of
the same year, a book of ordination. After
some delay, the Anglo-Popish Liturgy, or
Service-book, which was intended to com-
plete the change, made its appearance.
Had Scotland tamely submitted to this
yoke, she might afterwards have sighed
and struggled in vain for liberty. But the
arbitrary manner in which these innova-
tions were imposed, not less offensive than
the matter of them, added to the dissatis-
faction produced by former measures of the
court and bishops, excited universal disgust,
and aroused a spirit of opposition, which
was not allayed, until not only the obnoxi-
ous acts were swept away, but the whole
fabric of episcopacy, which, during so many
years they had laboured to rear, was
levelled with the dust. The tumult which
was produced by the first reading of the
Liturgy in Edinburgh, on the 23d of July,
1637?‘ has been variously related Al-
* As soon as the Dean, Dr Hanna, began to
read the Service-book, a “ wonderful sturre" arose, ,


-_
though Henderson had no share either in
this, or in any cabal or plot—as his enemies
have allegcd,-—he, from the first intimation
of the projected change, expressed his dis-
approbation of them, and did not scruple,
after their appearance, publicly to expose
their dangerous tendency. While this
endeared him to some, it irritated the
ruling party against him, and was the
occasion of his being singled out among
the objects of prosecution, to deter others
from imitating his example. The arch-
bishop of St Andrews charged him and
other two ministers, topurchase each two
when a number of the meaner sort of women, who
occupied moveable seats at the lower end of the
church, and who usually kept places till the service
commenced, for the higher ranks, raised, with a
clapping of hands, cursing, and outcries, such a
barbarous hubbub that no one could hear or be
heard. The general cry from the remote corners
was :—-“ They are going to say mass! Sorrow,
sorrow for this doleful day! They are bringing in
Popery among us !”—As if by simultaneous im-
pulse, the whole congregation was so vehemently
perturbed, that the like of the novelty was never
heard before, since the Reformation. When the
confusion became such as to prevent detection,
even the gentlemen lent their aid by crying out
that “ Baal was in the church." For a time the
fury was directed against me dean. Some cried,
“ He is ane of a witch's breeding, and the devil's
gette. lll hangit thief! gif at that time thou
wentest to court thou hadst been Weill hangit, as
thou wert ill hangit, thou hadst not been to be a
pest to God's kirk this day l" The dean‘s courage
failed him, and he paused, when the bishop called
on him to proceed with the Collect of the day;
whereupon Janet Geddes, an old woman who kept
an herb stall near the Trone church, cried--
“ Deil colic the wame o'ye! '—and, suiting the
action to her words, let fly at the head of the dean
the stool (see Cut, p. 216.) she had brought with
her to church. Jouking then became the dean’s
safeguard from this ticket of remembrance, which
passed over his head. On this signal, stools,
clasped Bibles, stones, sticks, cudgels, and whatever
were within the people‘s reach, were hurled against
the dean. Thereafter, invading him more nearly,
they strove to pull him from the pulpit ; others ran
out of the kirk with pitiful lamentations.--“ Aiton’s
Life and Times."




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ALEXANDER HENDERSON. 341



copies of the Liturgy, for the use of their farther adapted to the corruptions which
parishes, within fifteen days, under the had been introduced since that period, and
pain of rebellion. Henderson immediately to the circumstances in which the cove—
same to Edinburgh, and on the 23d of nanters were placed. On the 1st of
August, 1637, presented a petition to the March 1638, it was sworn with uplifted
privy-council for himself and his brethren, hands, and subscribed in the Grayfriars
stating their objections, and praying for a Church of Edinburgh’“: by thousands, con-
suspension of the charge. To this petition,
and others of a similar kind from different
quarters of the country, the council re-
turnedafavourable answer, and transmitted ‘ to London an account of the aversion of
the country to conformity.
From this time forward, Henderson took
an active share in all the measures of the‘ g a um‘, petitioners against conformity, and his pru- ~';-.‘. 3' ‘Kalil:
dence and diligence contributed not a little ' i 7' '7
to bring them to a happy issue. They
soon discovered his worth, and improved it __ _ ;w‘m
by employing him in their most important ‘ \ N‘ “ ‘is
transactions. After having been put off [Greyfi'ms’cl‘mhEdin'mgh’m 1640-]
for some time with promises, the meetings
of the petitioners were suddenly prohibited,
by a proclamation from his majesty, under
pain of rebellion. Alarmed by this pro-
cedure, and convinced that they could not “ This memorable deed,” says Mr Laing,
confide in the court, they saw the necessity “ of which it would be improper to forget
of adopting some other method for strength-
the authors, was prepared by Alexander
ening their union; and that to which they Henderson, the leader of the clergy, and
were directed was, both in a divine and Archibald Johnston, afterwards of VVar-
human point of view, the most proper. I riston, an advocate in whom the suppliants
They recollected, that formerly in a time ; chiefly confided; and revised by Balmerino,
of great danger, the nation had entered; London, and Rothes.
into a solemn covenant, by which they The covenant being thus agreed upon,
bound themselves to continue in the true and sworn to by all ranks in the land, the
Protestant religion, and to defend and Marquis of Hamilton was sent by the king
support one another in that cause against with a view to suppress it. After several
their common enemies. They therefore ‘ conferences to little purpose, he at last told
agreed to renew this covenant, and a com- ‘
mittee having been appointed to prepare a Aft.“ it had gone the rolmd of the Whole
. church, it was taken out to be signed by the crowd
draught> It was read to the general bOdy’ ’ in the churchyard. Here it was spread before
and unanimously adopted. It was in sub-
them like another roll of the prophets, upon a flat
stance the same with the National Covenant, i grew-Stone, to be read and Subscribed by as many
- 1 " ld t ne'r it. Man ', in addition to their
which had been sworn to by all ranks, and ' a” con g6 . d . l ,
name, wrote, 2211 death , and some ev en opened a
ratified by all authorities in the kingdom lvein, and subscribed with their blood.—“ Aiton’s
during the preceding reign; but it was ,Life and Times.”







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sisting of the nobility, gentry, burgesses,
ministers of the gospel, and commons,
assembled from all parts of Scotland.



342
SCOTS WORTHIES.



the supporters of that measure, that the
book of canons and liturgy should be dis-
charged, on condition they would yield up
their covenant; which proposal not only
displeased the covenanters, but made them
even more vigilant to support and vindicate
that solemn deed. Upon this, Henderson
was again set to work, and in a short time
favoured the public with sufiicient grounds
and reasons why they should not recede
from any part of it.
Some time after this, the Tables* (as
they were called) of petitioners, who were
assembled at Edinburgh for carrying on
the reformation, being sorry that the town
and shire of Aberdeen (influenced by the
persuasion of their doctors) stood out and
opposed that work, sent some noblemen
with Henderson, Dickson, and Cant, to
see if they could reclaim them. But upon
their arrival at Aberdeen, they were re-
fused admission into any church; upon
which, the three ministers resolved to
preach in the earl of Marischal’s close and
ball, as the weather favoured them. Ac-
cordingly they preached by turns ; Dickson
in the morning, to a very numerous mul-
titude; Cant at noon; and Henderson at
night, to no less an auditory than in the
morning; all of them using the strongest
arguments for subscribing the covenant;
which had such an effect upon the people,
that, after worship was over, about 500
persons, some of whom were people of the
best quality, subscribed.
And here .one thing was very remark-
able. While Henderson preached, the
crowd being very great, there were some
who mocked: and, among the rest, one
* These Tables were four in number.
the four Tables consisted of four individuals, mak-
ing in all a cabinet of sixteen,-viz., four noblemen,
four gentlemen, four ministers, and four burgesses.
A member from each of these again constituted a
chief Table of last resort, making a supreme coun-
cil of four members only.—-“Az't0n‘s Life and
Times.”

Each of .
John Logie, a student, even threw clods
at the commissioners. It was remarked,
however, that within a few days after, this
person killed a young boy; and though at
that time he escaped justice, yet he was
afterwards taken, and executed, in 1644.
Such was the fate of him who had been
so forward in disturbing the worship of
God, and mocking at the ambassadors of
Jesus Christ!
In the same year, 1688, at the famous
General Assembly, which met at Glasgow,
the first which had been convened for a
long period, Henderson, Without one dis-
senting voice, was chosen moderator.
Having by solemn prayer constituted the
Assembly, in the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ, he addressed the members in a
neat and appropriate speech; and indeed
throughout the whole of it, fully justified
the good opinion which his brethren enter’
tained of him. To his majesty’s commis-
sioner he behaved with the greatest re-
spect, and at the same time with an inde-
pendence and firmness which became the
president of a free Assembly. His
behaviour to the nobility and gentry, who
were members, and to his brethren in the
ministry, was equally decorous. His pru-
dence and ability were put to the test on
two occasions,—the premature dissolution
of the Assembly by the royal commissioner,
and the excommunication of the bishops.
Of his conduct in these, it is proper to give
some account.
Although the king had called the As
sembly, it was not his design to allow them
to proceed fairly to the discussion of eccle-
siastical business, and to examine and rectify
abuses. The ~Marquis of Hamilton, his
majesty’s commissioner, had instructions not
to consent formally to any part of their pro~
cedure, and at a proper time to oppose the
whole. On the other hand, the members
considered themselves as a free Assembly,
and were resolved to claim and exercise


ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
343


that liberty and power which they pos-
sessed, agreeably to the laws of the land,
ratifying the presbyterian government, and
the freedom of its judicatories. The de-
clinature of the bishops having been read,
at the repeated request of the commissioner,
the Assembly were proceeding in course
to vote themselves competent judges of the
libels raised against them, when the com»
missioner interposed, and declared that
if they proceeded to this, he could continue
with them no longer, and delivered his
majesty’s concessions to be read and re-
gistered. After the clerk had read them,
the moderator addressed his Grace in a
grave and well-digested speech. But again
on moving the question before them, the
commissioner repeated, that in this case, it
behoved him to withdraw. “ I wish the
contrary from the bottom of my heart,”
said Henderson, “ and that your Grace
would continue to favour us with your
presence, without obstructing the work and
freedom of the Assembly.” But after
having in vain insisted on the moderator
to conclude with prayer, the commissioner
did, in his majesty’s name, dissolve the
Assembly, discharging them under the;

passed against them should be publicly
pronounced next day by the moderator,
after a sermon to be preached by him,
suitable to the solemn occasion. Accord-
ingly, at the time appointed, he preached
before a very large auditory, fi~om Psal.
cx. i. “The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit
thou at my right hand, until I make thine
enemies thy footstool.” After narrating
the steps which the Assembly had taken,
and causing an abstract of the evidence
against the bishops to be read for the
satisfaction of the people, he, “ in a very
dreadful and grave manner,” said one who
was present, “ pronounced the sentences
of deposition and excommunication; the
whole Assembly being deeply affected, and
filled with the mingling emotions of admi-
ration, pity, and awe.” 4
On the day following, two petitions were
given in, for liberty to transfer Henderson
from Leuchars, the one to St Andrews,
the other to Edinburgh; but to neither of
these was he willing to agree, having al-
ready been nearly eighteen years minister
‘ of that parish. He pleaded that he was
' now too old a plant to take root in another
soil; yet, after much contest betwixt the
highest pains from continuing to sit longer. l two parties for some days, Edinburgh
Upon the commissioner’s leaving the I carried it by seventy-five votes, very much
house, the moderator delivered an anima- against his inclination—However, he sub-
ting address to the Assembly, and re—:
mitted, on condition that, when old age
minded them of the divine countenance , should overtake him, he should again be
which had hitherto been shown to them in
the midst of their greatest difficulties. At
the opening of the next sederunt, he again
addressed them, putting them in mind of
the propriety of paying particular attention,
in the circumstances in which they were
then placed, to gravity, quietness, andi
order; an advice which was punctually
complied with, throughout the whole of.
that long Assembly.
The Assembly having finished the pro-
cesses of the bishops, agreed, at the close ,
of their 19th sederunt, that the sentences ‘

removed to a country charge. At the
conclusion of the Assembly, he addressed
them in an able speech of considerable
length. After desiring some members to
supply anything which he had omitted, he
concluded with prayer, singing the 133d
psalm, and pronouncing the apostolical
benediction. Upon which the Assembly
rose in triumph. “ We have now cast
down the walls of Jericho,” said Henderson
when the members were rising :-—“ Let
him that rebuildeth them beware of the
curse of Hiel the Bethelite !”


344
SCOTS WORTHIES.


In 1639, he was one of ‘those commis-
can consist very well with monarchy in
sioned for the church, to treat upon the the state; and thereby we shall gain the
articles of pacification with the king and his 7 favour of our king, and God shall get the
commissioners, in which diflicult affair he glory.” After this discourse, and calling
behaved with great prudence and candour. 'i the commissions, Traquair earnestly de-
When the General Assembly, the same
year, sat down at Edinburgh, August 12th, ‘
having been the former moderator, he
moderator. W hether this was to promote
his master’s designs, or from a regard to
preached to them from Acts v. 33. “When Henderson’s abilities, as the earl professed,
they heard that, they were cut to the is not certain; but the Assembly opposed
heart, and took counsel to slay them.” the motion, as favouring too much the idea
Towards the close of his discourse, he of a constant moderatorship, one of the
addressed John, earl of Traquair, his . first steps taken towards the introduction
majesty’s commissioner, in these words :-—-
of Prelacy; and no man opposed it more
“We beseech your Grace to see that than Henderson himself; so, it was over-
Caesar have his own, but let him not have i ruled-
what is due to God, by whom kings reign. i On the 31st of the same month, Hen-
God hath exalted your Grace unto many I derSOII. Was 3150 Called upon to preach at
high places, within these few years, and is l the Opening 0f Parliament, When he de-
still doing so. Be thankful, and labour to 1 hVeI'ed eh excellent discourse from 1
exalt Christ’s throne. When the Israelites Thh- h- 1—3,” in which he treated in 3
came out of Egypt: they gave all the Silver 1 masterly style, of the end, duties, and
and gold they had carried thence, for the , utility of magistrates.
building of the tabernacle; in like manner: In 1640: he was Placed as Rector at
your Grace must employ all your parts and the head of the university of Edinburgh,
endowments for building up the Church by the teWh-eeuheh Of that city- The)’
of God in this land.”

And to the mem_ % had now resolved that the office should be
here he said’ “ Right honourable’ W0r_ annual, with the view of rendering it more
shipful, and reverend, go on in your zeal' efheient- N01‘ had they any reason t0
and constancy; true zeal doth not cool,1 rePeht of theh’ eheiee- The)’ empowered
but the longer it burns the more fervent it . him to superintend all matters connected
will grow. If it shall please God, that by with the Conduct of the PrincipeL1 and Pro“
your means the light of the gospel Shall be I fessors, the education of youth,the revenues,
continued, and that you have the honour’, ‘he; to admonish Offenders» and» in ease
of being instrumental in a blessed reforma-
Of ehshhae)’: to make arepelit to the town‘
tion, it shall be useful and comfortable to eeuheh- In this efhee: Whleh he aPPeare
yourselves and your posterity. But let to have ehleyech by lie/‘election’ to his
your Zeal be always tempered with moder_ death, he exerted himself sedulously to
ation; fOr zeal is a good Servant’ but 2,‘ promote the interests of that learned semi--
bad master; like a ship that hath a full nary-
sail’ but no rudder‘ We had‘ much need "*‘ “ I exhort, therefore, that, first of all, suppli~
of Christian Prudence, for We knew What cations, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks,
advantage some have attempted to take of be made for all men; for kings, and for all that
us this Way For this reason’ let it be; are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and
‘ peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For
seen to the world, that Presbytery, the
‘ , this is good and acceptable in the sight of God
overnment we contend for In the church. ‘ our saviour,"
sired that Henderson might be continued



ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
345 '



j
From the superintendence of this peace-
private conference with the king, the special
ful seat of literature, and from his pastoral I object of which was to procure assistance
functions, Henderson was again reluctantly to the universities in Scotland, from the
called to take an active part in public 1 rents formerly appropriated to the bishops.
affairs.
The king, yielding to the impor-
He was graciously received, and had
tunate solicitations of the episcopal clergy, l reason to expect that his request would be
having refused, notwithstanding his pro-
mise at the late settlement, to ratify the
l
l
conclusions of the Assembly and parlia-i
ment, suddenly prorogued the latter, de-
nounced the Scots as rebels, and prepared
again to invade the country. But the suc-
cess of the Scottish army, which entered
England in August 1640, compelled him
a second time to accede to pacific pro-
posals; and a treaty to this effect was
begun at Rippon, which in a short time
after was transferred to London. Hen-
derson was appointed one of the commis-
sioners for this treaty, and on this occasion
distinguished himself as the author of a
very able paper, which was ultimately
transmitted to the English parliament, in
support of the Scottish commissioners for '
' unity of religion, and uniformity of church
government, in the two kingdoms.”
Indeed, during the whole time that he
was in London, attending to the treaty,
which was protracted through nine months,
he was laboriously employed. Besides
taking his turn with his brethren, who
attended as chaplains to the Scottish com-
missioners, in the church of St Antholine’s, 1

which was assigned to them as a place of '
public worship, he and they were often-
employed in preaching for the London
ministers, both on sabbath and on other
days. He prepared several tracts for the
press, which were published without his
name. The revisal of the most important
papers of the Scottish commissioners was
committed to him, before they were given
complied with.
He returned to Edinburgh about the
end of July, 1641. The General As—
sembly had met at St Andrews some days
before; but as the parliament, which was
sitting in Edinburgh, had sent to request
them to remove to that place, for the con—
venience of those who were members of
both, and as they wished that Henderson,
who had not then returned from London,
should act as moderator of this meeting,
the members agreed that they should meet
at Edinburgh on the 27th of July, and that
the former moderator should preside till
that time. Henderson had been chosen a
member of this Assembly; but, as it was
uncertain if he could be present, his consti-
tuents had elected Mr F airfoul to supply
his place in case of his absence, and he
had taken his seat as St Andrews. Upon
Henderson’s arrival, Mr F airfoul proposed
to give place to him. This was keenly
opposed by Calderwood, who insisted that
his commission could not now be received;
in which he was seconded by Henderson
himself. But the Assembly sustained his
commission, and although he declined the
oflice of moderator, this also was, by a
plurality of votes, laid upon him.
Henderson delivered to the Assembly a
letter which he had brought with him, from
a number of ministers in London and its
vicinity, requesting advice from the As-
sembly respecting the opinions of some of
their brethren who inclined to Indepen-
dency, and popular government in the
in to the commissioners and parliament of 1 church. The Assembly gave him instruc-
England, and those which respected tions to answer this letter.
I‘ehglon were of his own composition.
He also
moved, that the Assembly should take
During his stay in London, he had a 1 steps for drawing upa Confession of Faith,




2x
346
SCOTS WORTHIES.






Catechism, and Directory for Wvorship,
in which England might afterwards agree
with them; a motion which was unani-
mously approved of, and the burden of
preparing them was laid upon the mover;
liberty being at the same time given him,
to abstain from preaching when he should
find it necessary to attend to this inter-
esting business, and to call in the aid of
such of his brethren as he pleased. He
declined the task as too arduous, but it
was left upon him ; and there can be little
doubt, that this early appointment contri-
buted to prepare him for giving assistance
in that work, when it was afterwards
undertaken by the Assembly at West-
minster.
Previous to the conclusion of this As-
sembly, he petitioned for liberty to be re-
moved from Edinburgh, in support of which
he urged that his voice was too weak for any
of the churches in town; that his health
was worse there than in any other place, and
that to keep him there was to kill him;
besides that, in the act for his translation
from Leuchars there was an express clause,
which provided that he should have the
liberty which he now craved. The As-
sembly were much perplexed by this
petition. It was at last granted, however;
but he either did not find it necessary, or
was prevailed upon not to make use of the
liberty which he obtained.
King Charles, having come to Scotland
to be present at the parliament held at this
time, attended on the forenoon of the
sabbath after his arrival, at the Abbey
Church, and heard Henderson preach from
Rom. xi. 36. “ For of him, and through
him, and to him, are all things: to whom
he glory for ever. Amen.” In the after-
noon he absented himself; but Henderson
having conversed with him respecting this,
he afterwards gave constant attendance.
Having been appointed his chaplain, Hen-
derson performed family-worship in the.

l palace every morning and evening, after
the Scottish form. His majesty attended
duly upon this service, and exhibited no
symptom of dissatisfaction or scruple at
the want of a liturgy; a circumstance
which gave the Scots encouragement to
expect that he would easily give way to
the reformation of the English service.
On the last day of the meeting of parlia-
ment, which it was the custom to hold
with great solemnity, his majesty being
seated on his throne, and the estates in
their places, Henderson began with prayer;
and the business being finished, he closed
the meeting with a sermon. The revenues
of the bishoprics being divided at this
parliament, Henderson exerted himself on
the occasion for the Scottish universities;
and by his influence, what belonged to the
bishopric of Edinburgh and priory, was,
not without difficulty, procured for the
university of that city. As a recom-
pense for his own laborious and expensive
services too, in the cause of the public, the
emoluments of the chapel-royal, amounting
to about 4000 merks a»year, were con-
ferred upon himself.
Some of his friends were displeased with
his conduct during this parliament, particu-
larly in using means to screen from punish-
ment some persons who had entered into
engagements hostile to the late proceedings
of the nation. Besides, reports injurious
to his character, and the purity of his mo-
tives, were circulated; and, as is common
in such cases, met with too easy belief
But one, who differed from him in opinion
as to the measures in question, bears wit~
ness, that “ his great honesty, and unparal-
leled abilities to serve this church and
kingdom, did ever remain untainted.” In
the next Assembly, he made a long and
impassioned apology for his conduct. He
said, that certain things for which he had
been blamed were done by the commis-
sioners of the church, not ‘by him; that


ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
347



what he had received fi~om the king for
his attendance upon a laborious charge
was no pension; that he had as yet touched
none of it; and that he was vexed with
injurious calumnies. Having unburdened
his mind, and received the sympathy of
his brethren, with the assurance of their
unshaken confidence in him, he recovered
his cheerfulness.
During the year 1642, Henderson was
employed in managing the correspondence
with England respecting ecclesiastical re-
formation and union. The parliament of
England, having abolished prelacy, re-
quested that some divines should be sent
from Scotland to assist in the Synod which
they had agreed to call. Upon this the
commission of the church met, and, being
authorized by the former General Assem-
bly, appointed certain persons as commis-
sioners, to be ready to repair to England
as soon as it should be necessary. Hen-
derson was one of these. He was averse
to the appointment, protesting, that on his
former journey he thought he should have
died before he reached London; but he
at last acquiesced, not without complaining
that some persons were ready to impose
heavy burdens upon him, and afterwards
to invent or receive reports injurious to his
character.
The dissensions between the king and
parliament, which had now burst out into
a civil war, for some time hindered this
journey. Henderson was sincerely dis-
posed to use every proper method for effect-
ing a reconciliation, and joined with a
number of leading men in an invitation
to the queen to come to Scotland, with a
view to promote a mediation,—a proposal
which was rejected by the king. After
this, he went in person to his majesty at
Oxford, in company with the commis-
sioners who were sent to offer the media-
tion of Scotland. The interview, however,
produced no good effect. At first his

majesty treated him with much attention,
and strove to convince him of the justice of
his cause; but as soon as he found that he
did not acquiesce in his representation, his
behaviour to him altered completely. He
expressed high offence at the interest that
the Scots took in the reformation of Eng-
land, vindicated his employing papists in
the army, and refused permission to the
commissioners to proceed to London to
treat with the parliament. They were
forthwith insulted in the streets by the
inhabitants of Oxford, and were even under
apprehensions of their personal safety.
While Henderson remained there, some
of the academical divines wished to engage
him in controversy, by proposing certain
questions to him respecting church govern-
ment; but he declined the dispute, and
signified that his business was with the
king. Upon'his return to Edinburgh, the
commissioners of the church expressed
their entire satisfaction with his mission;
and their judgment was approved by the
next Assembly, who pronounced his con-
duct to have been “ faithful and wise.”
The Scots, being highly dissatisfied with
the treatment which their commissioners
had received at Oxford, soon after entered
into a very close alliance with the parlia-
ment of England; in consequence of which
Henderson was, afterwards, again sent to
London.
In the mean tmie, however, upon his re-
turn he was chosen moderator to the Gen-
eral Assembly of 1643. This Assembly was
rendered remarkable by the presence of
the English commissioners, Sir William
Armyn, Sir Harry Vane, Messrs Hatcher
and Darley, from the parliament; together
with two ministers, ‘Stephen Marshall, a
Presbyterian, and Philip Nye, an Indepen-
dent?‘ These persons were commissioned
* A few of the nobles, in the name of the
estates, were appointed to meet them and bring
them up in a coach; and Henderson moved that



348 SCOTS WORTHIES.






to the General Assembly, craving their l, return to the parliament and Assembly of
aid and counsel upon the emergent cir- England. In a little after, Henderson and
cumstances of both kingdoms; and in Gillespie, with Messrs Hatcher and Nye,
their presence the business of the Assem- set out for London, to have the Solemn
bly was conducted by Henderson in his League ratified there,—-it having been
oflicial capacity, with great dignity and agreed upon, that the union between the
decorum. He was among the first of those two kingdoms should be cemented by such
nominated as commissioners, to go up in a deed. They set sail from Leith on the





















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[View of Leith, in 1650.]
30th of August. The rest of the com- 1 received a warrant from the parliament to
missioners stayed behind, until it should sit in the next meeting. This warrant was
be returned. Upon their arrival in Lon- presented by Henderson, upon which the
don, where the Assembly of Divines were , Assembly sent out three of their number
sitting, and to whom they were appointed ' to introduce them. At their entry, Dr
to represent the state of the Church of; Twisse, the president, rose and welcomed
Scotland, Henderson and his brethren them in name of the Assembly, and com~
Eplimented them for the hazard they had
i undergone in the public cause, both by sea
now, when the eyes of strangers were to be upon . (11 d _ ft h. h h d d
them, the members of Assembly should think well I an an ’ a er W 10 ’ t ey Weroe Con‘ ucte
of their ways. and, if‘ possible, appear more grave , 130 a P151Ce the most COIIVQIllent III the
than ordinary. The business of the House was house, which they kept ever after;
accordingly carried on with more ‘solemnity than The Solemn League having been
usual ; and Henderson. as became hlS person well, I
already approved of by the two houses of
moderated with some little austere severity.-- . .
Az'ton's“1.g'fe and Times.” parliament, and this venerable Assembly,




ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
349


the members of the latter, with those of. among the members of the Assembly,
the House of Commons, convened in St'
Margaret’s, Westminster, upon the 25th ‘
of September; and having first sworn, ‘
afterwards subscribed it. Immediately
before they proceeded to this solemn work,
Henderson made a long speech, stating
what the Scots had done, and the good
they had received by such covenants; after
which the covenant was read, article by
article, from the pulpit, all persons stand-
ing uncovered, with their right hand lifted
up in worship, and the solemnity of an
oath. Two hundred and twenty-two mem-
bers of parliament signed, as did also the
divines of the Assembly and the Scottish
commissioners.
During the three following years, he
remained in London, and was unremit-
tingly employed in assisting the Assembly
in preparing the public formularies for the
religious union between the three king-
doms, which had been sworn in the Solemn
League. Being a stranger, and sustaining,
with the rest of the commissioners from
Scotland, a peculiar relation to the As-
sembly, he spoke but seldom in its debates.
But when it was necessary to vindicate
the principles of the Church of Scotland,
and of the other reformed churches, from
slanderous imputations, he did not keep
silence. Mr Nye, having one day under-
taken to demonstrate, that the presbyterian
mode of drawing a whole kingdom under
one national Assembly was formidable and
pernicious to civil states and kingdoms,—
Henderson, indignant at such language
from one who had solemnly engaged to
preserve the government of the Church of
Scotland, with honest warmth repelled the
charge. He remonstrated against the
inflammatory tendency of such speeches,
and showed that he had calumniated not
only the Church of Scotland, but all re-
formed churches whatever. His wisdom
was displayed in preserving harmony

regarding measures which were requisite
for the prosecution of the cause, which
they had all solemnly sworn to promote.
But while he exerted himself in reconcil-
ing differences which arose respecting sub-
ordinate steps of procedure, he steadily
resisted every attempt to introduce prin-
ciples contradictory to those of the Church
of Scotland, and the other reformed and
Presbyterian churches.
In the beginning of the year 1645,
Henderson was appointed to assist the
commissioners of the two parliaments, in
the treaty between them and the king, at
Uxbridge. The parliamentary commis-
sioners were instructed to demand the
abolition of episcopacy, and the ratification
of the presbyterian government. The
king’s commissioners objected to the aboli-
tion of episcopacy, upon which it was
agreed to hear the divines on both sides.
Henderson opened the case, and brought
forward such arguments as seemed most
likely to bring the question to that speedy
issue which the state of matters required.
The debate lasted a considerable time;
and although—as is common on such oc-
casions—each party claimed the victory,
yet, in the judgment of those who must be
allowed not to have been prejudiced in
favour of the divine right of presbytery,
Henderson, while he equalled the king’s
commissioners in learning, surpassed them
far in modesty. The treaty having been
broken off, he returned to London, and
continued to assist the Assembly of
divines in their labours.
Towards the close of this year, it was
judged necessary that he, with some others,
should go down to Scotland, to attempt to
bring about a better correspondence among
the nobility, who, in consequence of the
distresses of the country—occasioned by the
ravages of the earl of Montrose—had fallen
into disunion and animosities, which were


350
SCOTS WORTHIES.



fomented by the secret artifices of the
court. But, just when they were ready
to take their journey, Henderson was
detained at the earnest request of the
ministers and city of London, who repre-
sented the impropriety of his absence at
that critical time, when certain questions
upon which the uniformity between the
kingdoms turned, were in dependence.
In the spring of 1646, the king’s affairs
being entirely ruined, he threw himself,
without any previous notice, into the
Scottish army, which retired with him
to Newcastle. He had no sooner entered
the town than he sent for Henderson. This
was a critical moment. The only mea-
sure which promised settlement to the
nation, and the restoration of the king
to the exercise of his authority, was, his
speedy consent to the establishment of the
Presbyterian Reformation. Henderson
was judged the fittest person to deal with
his majesty about the necessity of a speedy
concurrence in it; and in these circum-
stances, notwithstanding his unfitness for
the journey, he complied with the king’s
request, and arrived at Newcastle about
the middle of May.
Although he received a welcome re-
ception from his majesty, he soon per-
ceived, not without deep concern, that
he had been deceived as to his hopes
of his compliance with the requisitions of
parliament. Charles signified that he
could not in conscience consent to the
abolition of episcopacy, and proposed that
Henderson should enter into a debate with
some episcopal divines, of whose names he
gave him a list, in his presence. This,
however, Henderson declined, as what he
had no authority to undertake, and what
would be exceedingly prejudicial to his
maj esty’s affairs.’ It was, therefore, agreed,
that the scruples which the king enter-
tained should be discussed in a series of
papers, which should pass privately be-

tween him and Henderson. These con-
tinued from the 29th of May to the 15th
of July. The papers are eight in number,—
five by his majesty, who was assisted in
the dispute by Sir Robert Murray; and
three by Henderson.
Most unfortunately for the 7' king, and
probably for the honour of Scotland, Hen-
derson’s constitution broke down at this
critical period, under the crushing mental
anxiety and actual bodily fatigue he had
for years endured in the public service.
He was a man by no means robust fi~om
the first, and his health had been but pre-
carious from the time he was translated to
Edinburgh. With a view to recover his
strength, which had begun to sink while
he was there, he petitioned the Assembly
to be allowed to retire to the peace and
purity of a country parish; but the stat‘_
of parties both in England and Scotland
would not admit of it. The first symptom
that alarmed his friends was about the
middle of June, 1645, when for several
days he was confined to his bedroom by a
languishing but not sharp attack of gravel.
In about a fortnight after, the urinary
passage was for a time altogether obstruct--
ed. “ This,” says Baillie, “feared me
much; but now, blessed be God, he is
well.” Upon his return to Edinburgh, he
was invited to dine with his good friend,
Mr Stewart (afterwards Sir James), sub-
sequently Lord Provost of Edinburgh.
He was extremely cheerful and hearty
at table. After dinner was over, he
asked Sir James if he had not observed
him more than ordinarily cheerful. He
answered, he was extremely pleased to
find him so well as he was. “ \Vell,” said
the other, “ I am near the end of my race,
hasting home, and there was never a
school-boy more desirous to have the play
than I am to have leave of this world; and
in a few days (naming the time,) I will
sicken and die. In my sickness I will be


ALEXANDER HENDERSON.
351



much out of ease to speak of anything, but
I desire that you may be with me as much
as you can, and you shall see all will end
well.” All fell out as he had foretold; and
on the 19th of August, Henderson rested
from all the toils of a useful and busy life.
On the testimony of several of his bre-
thren, who visited him on his deathbed, he
continued to manifest the strongest desire
that the work of reformation should go on,
in the same way it had done from the
beginning. To himself, his death was a =
relief from sickness and sorrow; but to
his friends, it was one of the sad presages
of approaching evil.
Henderson’s mortal remains were in-

terred in the churchyard of St Giles, near ‘L
the grave of his fellow-reformer in the
Scottish church. When this cemetery was
converted into the Parliament Square, his
body was removed to the Grayfriars, where
it lies in the burial ground of the Hender-
sons of F ordel. His nephew, George
Henderson, erected a suitable monument
to his memory, which still stands entire on


[Henderson’s Monument m Gre-yIiIiars’ Churchyard, Edinburgh]
the south-west side of Grayfriars church.

It is a quadrangular building surmounted .
by an urn, and bears the following inscrip-
tion:—
7 I
ON THE EAST SIDE.
M. S.
D. Alexandri Hendersonij, Regi a Sacris,
Edinburgensis Ecclesia Pastoris, ibidem
Academia Rectoris, Academia Andreana
Alumni, Amplificatoris, Patroni.
Qui contra grassantes per fraudem et tyrannidem
Pralatos, libertatis et disciplina Ecclesiastica pro-
pugnator fuit acerrimus; Superstitionis juxta et
succrescentium sectarum malleus, Religionis, cul-
tusque divini purioris, Vindex et Assertor constan-
tissimus; in qua, cum omni cura et cogitatiori-
incumbens, assiduus, cum in patria, tum in vicino
Anglia Regno, labores Ecclesia utiles, sibi glone
osos exantlavit. Extremum spiritum efl‘udit, die
12 August?‘ 1646, atatis 63.
ON THE SOUTH SIDE.
Hanc quisquis urnam transiens spectaveris,
Ne negligenter aspice ;
Hic busta magni cernis Hendersonij
Pietatis hoc bustum vides.1~
* Wodrow says he died on the 18th; and it
appears from his latter will, that he was alive, on
the 17th day of August, 1646. Some historians
atlirm that he died on the 12th; which corre-
sponds with the inscription on his monument.
‘r Translation of Inscription on the East Side.
Sacred to the Memory
of Mr Alexander Henderson, Chaplain to the King,
Minister of the church in Edinburgh, Rector of its
University; and Student, Enlarger, and Patron
of the College of St Andrews.
He was a strenuous defender of Ecclesiastical
liberty and discipline against the fraudulent and
tyrannical incursions of Prelacy; a determined
opponent of superstitious and sectarian bigotry,
and an untiring assertor of the purity of Religion
and Divine worship. To all of these, after having
assiduously applied his mind with incessant devo-
tion, both at home and in the sister kingdom;
‘ having endured the most laborious conflicts—of
incalculable benefit to the Church, and undying
honour to himself—he yielded up his spirit to God,
on the 12th day of August, 1646, in the 63d year
of his age.
Translation of Inscription 0n the South Side.
Whosoever thou art, Passenger, that surveyest
this Urn,-—look not upon it with cold neglect!
Here rest the ashes of the great Henderson 1—
This is the tomb of devoted piety.


352
SCOTS WORTHIES.






ON THE WEST SIDE.
Reader, hedeu thine eyes,
Not for the dust here lyes ;
It quicken shall again,
And ay in joy remain :
But for thyself, the Church, and States,
Whose woes this dust prognosticates.
ON THE NORTH SIDE.
Vir fuit divinus, ac plane eximius; et omni
virtutum genere, tum pietate in primis, eruditione,
prudentia illustris - Regi Serenissimo, et utriusque
Regni ordinibus juxta charus. Cui hoc monu-
mentum pietatis ergo erigendum curavit Georgius
Hendersonus ex fratre nepos, ipse sibi eeternum in
animis bonorum reliquitfi“
So violent was the spirit of dissension
in those days, that when the episcopal
party got the ascendancy after the Re-
storation, they erased the inscription from
the monument; but it has since been
restored.
By Henderson’s decease, the church
and kingdom experienced a severe loss.
His death was justly lamented by the
Covenanters. Before the General Assem-
bly, in 1647, Baillie pronounced the
following tender eulogium, which cannot
fail to be read with the deepest interest :—
“ One of my dear colleagues (Henderson,)
having been removed by death, may I be
permitted to conclude with my earnest
wish, that that glorious soul, of worthy
memory, who is now crowned with the
reward of his labours for God and for us,
may be fragrant among us, so long as free
and pure Assemblies remain in this land,
Translation of Inscription on the North side.
He was a man of a sublime and heavenly mind,
distinguished for every species of virtue. For

which I hope will be till the coming oi
our Lord. You know he spent his
strength, wore out his days, and breathed
out his life, in the service of God and this
church. This binds it on us and our
posterity, to account him the fairest orna-
ment, after Mr John Knox, of incompara-
l, ble memory, that ever the church of Scot-
‘ land did enjoy.”
He was the first of the clergy who
struck the spark and kindled the train in
the darkest period of episcopal supremacy;
in defiance of dangers and difficulties
innumerable, he overcame the powers of
the bishops, when exerted in compelling
presbyterians to use the Service Book; he
restored to the nation the inestimable
privilege of convening in General Assem-
blies; and he framed that constitution of
our church which, almost unaltered, has
blessed and upheld it to this day. By his
discriminating moderation in deliberative
councils ; by his penetration in discovering
and suggesting the proper course; by his
personal influence as a constant Modera~
tor; and by the uprightness of his inten-
tions and the kindness of his heart, he
maintained the cause of his party, disarm-
ed the rancour of his opponents, secured
the friendship of the king, and sowed the
first seeds of that civil and sacred liberty
which was matured and confirmed by the
Revolution in 1688.
Henderson was never married. By his
testament, registered in the Edinburgh
commissary court, he appears to have
been possessed of considerable wealth,
which, with the exception of some small
legacies, he left to George Henderson,
With the
ranks in both kingdoms, he was equally dear. As
. ' a ' .'
piety, erudition and prudence, however, he was 1, hls brothers Son’ Who attended hlm dmmg
singularly illustrious. To his sovereign, and to all i the latter years of his life‘
I exception of a great number of pamphlets,
a token, therefore, of affectionate esteem, this printed speeches, and Sermons’ Composed
monument is raised to his memory by his fraternal
nephew, George Henderson. The remembrance
of the great original himself will live for ever in
the minds of the good.
during the bustle of an active life, he has
left no standard works to hand down his
jgreat talents and worth to posterity.




GEORGE GILLESPIE.
353







_______.___.

“ But so long as the purity of our presby- l tion during the reign of Charles I. is for-
terian establishment remains,” says Dr
Aiton, “ as often as the General Assembly
of our church is permitted to convene-
while the Confession of Faith, and Cate-
chisms Larger and Shorter, hold a place,
in our estimation, second to the Scriptures
alone—and till the history of the revolu-

gotten—the memory of ALEXANDER HEN-
DERSON will be respected, and every presby-
terian patriot in Scotland will continue
grateful for the SECOND REFORMATION of
our church, which Henderson was so
instrumental in effecting”

GEORGE GILLESPIE.

Tms eminent divine and author was the
son of Mr John Gillespie, some time min-
ister of the gospel at Kirkaldy. It is very
probable that he was born about the year
1610 or 1611, as we find that in the
year 1637, his celebrated work, entitled
“ A Dispute against the English Popish
Ceremonies,” &c., was, by public proclama-
tion, prohibited from being read, in conse-
quence of having given offence to the
episcopal party, who were then predomi-l
' time, when chaplain in the family of the
‘ earl of Cassilis, that he wrote the offen-

nant in the nation; and, at that time Gil-
1 Wemyss, in Fife, on the 26th April, 1638,
ibeing the first of that period who was
lespie is said to have scarcely reached the
twenty-fifth year of his age. It may also
be supposed, that he received the rudi-
ments of his education in his native
parish, from which he appears to have
been early removed to the university of ;
St Andrews, where his progress is reported
to have been such, as to bear off the palm
from the greater part of his fellow-students.
His admission to the holy ministry was
at a time when nonconformists found itv
impossible to be appointed to a charge,§
without the sanction of the bishops; and7
therefore it appears that he spent a few!
years, after receiving his license, in the
capacity of probationer. It was at that
sive publication to which we have allud-
ed; and which, being of too corrosive a
quality, could not be digested by the
weak stomachs of the bishops. It is cer-
tain, also, that he was chaplain in the
family of Viscount Kenmure, about the
year, 1634, as we have already mentioned,
in the life of that distinguished nobleman.
After the lapse of a few years, however,
he was at length ordained minister of
admitted by a presbytery, without an ac-
knowledgment of the bishops. Gillespie
began now very prominently to exert him-
self in defence of Presbytery; and at the
eleventh session of the memorable Assem-
bly held at Glasgow, in 1638, he delivered
a very learned and appropriate sermon
from these words,-—“ The kings heart is
in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers of
he turneth it whithersoever he
will.” In this of
Argyle thought he encroached too nearly
upon the royal prerogative, and admon-
ished the Assembly very gravely upon the
water :
discourse, the earl


2 Y
354
SCOTS WORTHIES.
l
l


subject, which all took in good part, as
appeared in a speech delivered by the
moderator in support of the admonition.
At the General Assembly held at Edin-
burgh, in 1641, a call for Gillespie, from
the town of Aberdeen, was laid upon the
Assembly’s table; but in this instance the
lord commissioner and himself advocated
his cause so well, that he was allowed to
remain at Wemyss. His stay was not
long, however; for the General Assembly,
in the following year, ordered him to be
translated to the city of Edinburgh, where
it appears he continued until the day of
his death, which was about six years after.
Gillespie was one of the four min-
isters sent as commissioners from the
Church of Scotland to the Westminster
Assembly, in the year 1643 ; and there he
proved himself to be a man of great parts
and learning, debating with such perspi-
cuity, strength of argument, and calmness
of spirit, as few could equal, and none
excel. Upon one occasion, at a time when
both parliament and the Assembly were
sitting, a long premeditated speech was
delivered in favour of Erastianism, to which
none of the brethren seemed prepared to
reply. Gillespie having been urged by the
Scots commissioners, rose and went over
the harangue, in such a masterly manner,
as to give a triumphant refutation to the
whole ; and what was most surprising was,
that though Gillespie seemed to have been
employed in taking notes, during the
delivery of the speech to which he made
answer; yet those who sat next him de-
clared, that when they looked into his

note-book, they found nothing written, but I‘
here and there, “ Lord, send light—Lord, '
give assistance—Lord, defend thine own
cause!” &c.
Although all our Scots commissioners lent their aid in the first formation of our }
church’s Catechisms, Confession of Faith, '
Directory for Worship, and Form of Church 5
1
Government, which were afterwards re-
vised and approved of by that Assembly,
yet the assistance of no one was of greater
service than that of Gillespie.*
“ None (says one of his colleagues who
was present,) in all the Assembly, did
reason more pertinently than Gillespie;
he is an excellent youth; my heart blesses
God in his behalf.” And, when the pas-
sage, Acts xv. 22, was adduced in sup-
port of the power of ordination, and a very
animated debate followed,——“ the very
learned and accurate Gillespie,” says Mr
Baillie, “ a singular ornament of our
church, than whom not one in the Assem-
bly spoke to better purpose, nor with
better acceptance to all the hearers,
showed that the Greek word, by the Epis~
copals translated ordination, was truly
choosing ; and farther, that it imported the
people’s silfi'rages in electing their own
ofiice-bearers.” Elsewhere he says of
him, “ We get good help in our Assembly
debates of lord Warriston, an occasional
commissioner, but of none more than the
noble youth Gillespie. I admire his gifts,
and bless God, as for all my colleagues, so
for him in particular, as equal in these to
the first in the Assembly.”
After his return from the lvestn'iinstcr
Assembly, he was employed in most of the
public affairs connected with the church,
until 1648, when he was chosen moderator
of the General Assembly. In this Assem-
bly several famous Acts were passed in
favour of the covenanted work of reforma-
tion,-——particularly that in reference to the
unlawful engagement against England, at
that time entered into by the duke of
Hamilton, and those of the malignant fac-
When the Confession of Faith was about to be
compiled, the followirr.r persons were added to the
Scots commissioners .——Dr Gouge, Dr Hoyl, Mr
Herle, Mr Gataker, Mr Tuckney, Mr Reynolds,
and Mr Reeves, who prepared materials for that
purpose.
i
GEORGE GILLESPIE. 355



i _
tion. Gillespie was also one of those the sum of one thousand pounds sterling
nominated by this Assembly, to prosecute should be given to his wife and children.”

the treaty of uniformity in religion with
England; but in a short time after, his
constitution gave way, and he died about
the 17th of December following.
In a letter to Gillespie, when on his
deathbed, Rutherford says, “ Be not heavy,
the life of faith is now called for; doing
was never reckoned on your accounts,
though Christ in and by you hath done
more than by twenty, yea, a hundred gray-
haired and godly pastors. Look to that
word, Gal. ii. 20. ‘ Nevertheless, I live;
yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.’ ”
During his life he was always firmly
attached to the work of reformation, and
continued so to the end. About two
months before his decease, he sent a paper
to the Commission of the General Assem-
bly, in which he gave ‘ faithful warning
against every sin and backsliding that he
then perceived to be growing in church
and state.
Thus died Gillespie, very little past the
prime of life. He was an excellent theo-
logian, a man of singular magnanimity,
and one who possessed great freedom of
expression. On every occasion in which
he was called to exercise his ministerial
function, he gave signal proofs of his high
talents. No man’s death, at that time,
was more lamented than his; and such
was the sense the public had of his merit,
that the Committee of Estates, by an act
dated December 20th, 1648, did, “ as an
acknowledgment for his'faithfiilness in all
the public employments intrusted to him


Although the parliament, however, by their
act dated June 8th, 1650, unanimously
ratified the above resolution, and recom-
mended to their committee to make the
same effectual; yet Cromwell, having
soon after usurped the reins of govern-
ment, frustrated this pious design, as his
grandson, the Rev. George Gillespie, min-
ister of Strathmiglo, afterwards declared.
Besides “ The English Popish Cere-
monies,” he wrote also “Aaron’s Rod
Blossoming,” which, with his miscellaneous
questions, first printed in 1649, clearly
show that he was a man of most profound
parts, learning, and abilities.
In his Latter Will he declared that the
expectation of death did not shake him
from the faith and truth of Christ which
he had professed and preached; and it was
his firm conviction, that the so-much-vili-
fied covenant and reformation of the three
kingdoms was of God, and would have a
happy conclusion. He repented no for-
wardness nor zeal he had shown in pro~
moting the glorious work; and prayed
earnestly that there might be such a spirit
in those of the nobility who stood up for
the truth,——that they would take more of
God’s counsel, and lean less to their own
reason and understanding.” “ But,” he
concludes, “ if there be a falling back to
the sin of compliance with malignant un-
‘ godly men, then I look for the breaking
by this church, both at home and abroad, his faithful labours, and indefatigable dili- '
gence in all the exercises of his ministerial
calling, for his Master’s service, and his -
learned writings published to the world, in
which rare and profitable employments,‘
both for church and state, he truly spent
himself, and closed his days, ordain, that
0
out of the wrath of the Lord, till there be
no remedy.”
TESTIMONY
OF
GEORGE GILLESPiIE.
“ Seeing now, in all appearance, the time
of my dissolution is very near, although I
have in my latter will declared my mind
of public affairs, yet I have thought good



356
SCOTS WORTHIES.





- carry on that great work of mercy, and


I
I
a‘
to add this further testimony, that Iesteem ; Wicked men, is a sin highly displeasing
the malignant party in these kingdoms the ‘
seed of the serpent, enemies to piety and
presbyterian government (pretend what
they will to the contrary,) a generation that
have not set God before them. With the
malignants are to be joined the profane and
scandalous, from all which, as also from
heresies and errors, the Lord I trust is
about to purge his churches. I have often
comforted myself (and still do,) with the
hopes of the Lord’s purging this polluted
land,-—surely the Lord hath begun and will
will purge out the rebels. I know there
will be always a mixture of hypocrites ; but
that cannot excuse the conniving at gross
and scandalous sinners. This purging
work which the Lord is about, very many
have directly opposed, and said by their
deeds, ‘ we will not be purged nor refined,
but we will be joining and mixing ourselves
with these whom the ministers preach
against as malignant enemies to God and
his cause.’ But let him that is filthy be
filthy still, and let wisdom be justified of
her children. I recommend to them that
fear God, sadly and seriously to consider
that the holy Scripture doth plainly hold

forth, 1st. That the helping of the enemies ‘
of God, or joining and mingling with
2d. That this sin hath ordinarily insnared
God’s people into divers other sins. 3d.
That it hath been punished of God with
grievous judgments. 4th. That utter de-
struction is to be feared, when a people,
after great mercies and judgments, relapse
into this sin, Ezra ix. 13, 14:.
“ Upon these and the like grounds, for
my own exoneration, that so necessary a
truth want not the testimony of a dying
witness of Christ, also the unworthiest
among many thousands, and that light
may be held forth, and warning given, I
cannot be silent, at this time, but speak by
my pen, when I cannot by my tongue; yea,
now, also by the pen of another, when I
cannot by my own—seriously, in the name
of Jesus Christ, exhorting, and obtestirg
all that fear God and make conscience of
their ways, to be very tender and circum-
spect, to watch and pray that they be not
insnared in that great dangerous sin of
conjunction, or compliance with malignant,
or profane enemies of the truth, under
whatsoever prudential considerations it may
be varnished over; which, if men will do,
and trust God in his own way, they shall
not only repent it, but to the greater joy
and peace of (Eod’s people, they shall see
his Work go on and prosper gloriously.”

JOHN M‘CLELLAND.



THE earliest notice we have of this strenu- ' of his parentage, birth, or early education.
ous supporter of Presbytery, and faithful seems to be on record. That his scholastic
servant of Christ, is, when he was em- attainments, however, were of arespectable
ployed as schoolmaster at a place called i order, may be presumed from the circum-
Newton, in Ireland. No account, either stance of his having educated several young



JOHN M‘CLELLAqlD.
357


men for the university, who are said to the counties of Down, Tyrone and Done-
have been very hopeful students.
having been engaged for some time in this
humble occupation, he was taken upon
trial for the ministry, by the presbytery of
Down, and having been found duly quali-
tied, was licensed to preach the everlasting
gospel. It does not appear that he had
1
l
l
i
ever been set apart to any particular charge 1
in Ireland ; but spent his time in itinerating ,
within the bounds of the presbytery, until,
his fidelity and zeal in the service of his I
‘ conversation, as one bent upon the advance-
Master having reached the car of the
bishops, he was by them deposed and ex-
communicated.
He was one of the few faithful brethren
in that country, who, after their deposition
and ejection from their livings, mcditated a
plan of emigration to New England, in
1636 ; but proving abortive in consequence
ofa storm which forced them to put back
to Ireland, preached for some time through
W
After gal, in private meetings ; until, hunted and
persecuted by episcopal tyranny, he was
compelled in disguise to seek refuge in
Scotland. About the year 1638, he was
ordained minister of Kirkcudbright, where
he continued to labour with great assiduity
till the day of his death. During the whole
of his incumbcncy in that parish, he dis-
covered more than ordinary zeal, not only
in testifying against the corruptions of the
times ; but by an unimpeachable walk and
ment of all the interests of religion, in
private as well as in public.
But even the peaceful demeanor and
godly life of M‘Clelland did not screen
him from persecution; and from a quarter,
too, from which other things might have
been expected. Guthrie, then minister at
Stirling, and afterwards bishop of Dunkeld,
having heard of his extraordinary diligence
- ___
-— P___.__ ..
Md’
ill
- L‘-
,=: g
p”
.4
“;I-l—
.__--.
_.-_~_
i a

[Cathedral o; liuuxcld, 111 1660.]





358
SCOTS WORTHIES.


in promoting personal and family reli-
gion, by encouraging fellowship-meetings,
threatened to lay a complaint against him
before the General Assembly of 1639;
out of resentment, it was said, against
the laird of Leckie, who was a strenuous
supporter of such meetings.
assemblages were at that time becoming‘
l I Q u
that may with certainty be rehed on. After
very general throughout Scotland ; and the
leading members, sensible of the’great good
they had effected in the cause of Presbytery,
and in cementing a union among the
brethren—rather than that the matter
should proceed any further proposed that
M‘Clelland should, in his public ministrat-

tions, enforce the duty and necessity of
family religion, and that he, Blair, and
Livingstone, should preach against such
meetings, and other abuses. Not one of
these men, however, could be persuaded to
comply; and therefore Guthrie made good
his threat, by actually tabling an accusation
against all the three, before the Assembly
of 1640, alleging that they were the sole
supporters of the conventicles complained
of. M‘Clelland entered upon his defence
with christian heroism, and craved that a
committee might be appointed to investi-
gate the matter, and that the offenders
might be censured, whether it should turn
out to be the persons libelled, or their ac-
cusers. At this, Guthrie, the earl of Sea-
forth, and others of the coalition, were so
much irritated, that for a time nothing
could be heard in the Assembly, on account
of the tumult and commotion which the
libel had excited.
of the charge, however, seems to have drop-
ped here. _
lll‘Clclland is said to have been occa-



These private

The farther prosecution l
sionally endued with a prophetic spirit,-— .
and this assertion seems to have been
gathered from some expressions he had at ‘
one time employed in one of his sermons,—
viz.;—-“ That the judgments of England
Should be so great, that a man might ride I

fifty miles through the best plenished parts
of England, without hearing a cock crow,
a dog bark, or seeing a man’s face ;”——and,
“that if he had the best land in all Eng-
land, he would sell it for two shillings an
acre, and think he had come to a good
market.”
Little more is known of this good man
having faithfully discharged his duties
as minister of Kirkcudbright, for nearly
twelve years, and borne unwavering testi—
mony against the unscriptural introduction
and exercise of patronage, and for the per-
petual obligation of the Solemn League
and Covenant in these lands, he was called
home to his Father’s house, about the year
1650, to the full fruition of what he had
before been gratified with only in vision.
He was a man of a truly apostolic life, not
knowing what it was to be afraid of any
one in the cause of Christ; and he was
admitted to nearer and more intimate
communion with his divine Lord and
Master, than generally falls to the lot even
of the most sincere christians. ‘ The secret
of the Lord is with them that fear him ; and
he will show them his covenant.’ His gra-
cious and fatherly providence is ever towards
them, working for, and taking care of them.
A little before his death he composed
the following verses, breathing the most
confident assurance of eternal life, through
the righteousness that is in Christ Jesus :—
Come,stingless Death, haveo er ! lo! here‘smy pass,
111 blood characteud by his hand who was,
And is, and shall be. Jordan, cut thy stream,—
Make channels dry! I hear my Father’s name
Stamped on my brow. l'm ruvished with my crown
I shine so bright. Down with all glory—down—
That world can give! I see the peerless port,
The golden street, the blessed sonl’s resort,
The tree of life,--floods, gushing from the throne,
Call me to joys. Begone, short woes, begone!
I live to die,-—-but now I die to live—
I now enjoy more than I could believe.
The promise me unto possession sends,
Faith in fruition ; hope in vision ends.


JOHN M‘CLELLAND.
359



TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN M‘CLELLAND.
February 20th, 1649.
“ My noble Lord !—I have received
yours, and do acknowledge my obligation
to your lordship is redoubled. I long
much to hear what decision followed on
that debate concerning patronages. Upon
the most exact trial, they will be found a
great plague to the kirk, an obstruction to
the propagation of religion. I have reason
to hope that such a wise and well-constii
tute parliament will be loath to lay such a
yoke upon the churches, of so little advan-
tage to any man, and so prejudicial to the
work of God, as hath been many times re-
presented. Certainly the removing it were
the stopping the way of simony, except we
will apprehend that whole presbyteries will
be bribed for patronage. I can say no
more but what Christ said to the Pharisees,
‘It was not so from the beginning ;’ the
primitive church knew nothing of it.
“ But as for their pernicious disposition
to a rupture with the sectaries, I can say
nothing to them; only this, I conclude‘
their judgment sleeps not: ‘ Shall they
escape; shall they break the covenant and
be delivered ?’—-which I dare apply to Eng-
land, I hope, without wresting of Scripture:
‘And therefore thus saith the Lord God
As I live, surely mine oath that he hath
despised, and my covenant that he hatlr
broken, even it will I recompense on his
own head.’
:\ ebuchadnezzar,—the matter was civil, but
the tie was religious; wherefore the Lord
owns it as His covenant, because God’s
name was invoked and interponed in it:
and he calls England to witness. Eng—
land’s covenant was not made with Scot-
land only, but with the high and mighty .
God, principally for the reformation of his
’ I
This covenant was made with l
house, and it was received in the most
solemn manner that I have heard ; so that
they may call it God’s covenant both for-
mally and materially: and the Lord did
second the making of it with more than
ordinary success to that nation. Now, it
is manifestly despised and broken in the
sight of all nations; therefore it remains
that the Lord avenge the quarrel of his
covenant. England hath had to do with
the Scots, French, Danes, Picts, Normans,
and Romans; but they never had such a
party to deal with as the Lord of armies,
pleading for the violation of his covenant,
(he. Englishmen shall be made spectacles
to all nations for a broken covenant, when
the living God swears, ‘ As I live, even
the covenant he hath despised, and the
oath that he hath broken, will I recom-
pense upon his own head.’ There is no
place left for doubting. ‘ Hath the Lord
said it ;’ hath the Lord sworn it, ‘ and will
he not do it '5’ His assertion is a ground
for faith, his oath a ground of full assurance
of faith. If all England were as one man,
united in judgment and affection, and if it
had a wall round about it reaching to the
sun, and if it had as many armies as it has
men, and every soldier had the strength
of Goliath, and if their navies could cover
the ocean, and if there were none to peep
out or move the tongue against them, yet
I dare not doubt of their destruction; when
the Lord hath sworn by his life, that he
will avenge the breach of covenant.
\Yhen, and by whom, and in what manner
he will do it, I do profess ignorance, and
leave it to his glorious Majesty, his own
latitude, and will commit it to him, (he.
“ My Lord, I live and will die, and if I
be called home before that time, I am in
the assured hopes of the ruin of all God’s
{enemies in the land; so I commit your
lordship and your lady to the grace of God.
JOHN M‘CLrLLavn.
To John Lord Kirkcudbright.


360
SCOTS WORTHIES.








DAVID CALDERWOOD.

THIS eminent historian of the church, and
sufferer for the cause of Christ, holds a
prominent part in the annals of ecclesias-
tical biography. Of his early life and
literary acquirements, however, we are
l
t
l
;
unable to say more than that after having I of speech, they meant no other thing but to
qualified himself for the ministry, and ob-
tained license, he was appointed minister
of Crailing, near J edburgh.
Here he I
preached the word of God for a consider-
i which should flow from that article.”
able time, with great wisdom, zeal, and
diligence; and as a wise harvest-man
brought in many sheavesinto God’s granary.
But it being then a time when prelacy was
greatly prevalent in the church, and faith-
ful ministers were everywhere thrust out
and silenced, he, with others, gave in their
declinature in 1608, and thereupon took
instruments in the hands of a notary-public,
in presence of some of the magistrates and
council of the town.
9 i
Upon this informa- ‘
tion having been sent to James by theI
bishops, instructions were given to the coun-
cil, to punish Calderwood and another min-
ister with exemplary severity. 'l‘hrough the
influence of the earl of Lothian with the
chancellor, in favour of Calderwood, how-
ever, their punishment was mitigated to
confinement within their own parishes.
Under this sad restriction was Calder-
wood detained a prisoner within his own
parish, but he was afterwards summoned
to appear before the high commission court
at St Andrew’s, upon the 8th of July fol-
lowing. After his libel was read over and
answered, the king said—-“ But what moved
you to protest ?” “ A clause agreed to by the
Lords of Articles,” replied Calderwood.
“But what fault had you to it i” said the

king—“ It cutteth off our General Assem-
blies,” was Calderwood’s answer. The
king—holding the protest in his hand—-
then challenged him for some words in
the last clause of it ; to which Calderwood
responded,—“ Whatsoever was the phrase
protest, that they would give passive obedi-
ence to his majesty, but could not give
active obedience unto any unlawful thing
“ Active and passive obedience I” said the
king.--—‘‘ That is, we will rather suffer than
practise,” said Calderwood. “ I will tell
thee, man,” said the king, “ what is obedi-
ence,-—-what the centurion said to his ser-
vants, “ To this man, Go, and he goeth.
and to that man, Come, and he cometh;
that is obedience!” Calderwood I‘t lied,
“ To suffer, Sire, is also obedience, howbeit
not of the same kind; and that obedience
was not absolute, but limited, with excep-
tion of a countermand from a superior
power.” “ I am informed,” said the king,
“ ye are arefractor; the bishop of Glasgow
your ordinary, and bishop of Caithness the
moderator, and your lin‘esbytery, testify ye
have kept no order, ye have repaired to
neither presbytery nor synod, and are no
way conform.” To this Calderwood re-
plied, “ I have been confined these eight or
nine years; so my conformity or non-con-
formity in that point could not be well
known.” “ Gude faith, thou art a very
knave,” said the king; “see these same
false puritans, they are ever playing with
equivocations!” His majesty then asked
whether he would conform or not, if he
released,—to which
were Calderwood


DAVID CALDERWOOD.
361








made answer, “ I am wronged, in that I
am forced to answer such questions, which
are beside the libel.” After this he was
removed.
\Vhen again called in, it was intimated
to him, that if he did not repair to synods
and presbyteries between this and October,
conform within that time, and promise
obedience in all time coming, the bishop
of Glasgow was to depose him. Calder-
wood then craved permission to say a few
words to the bishops ; which being granted,
he spoke as fbllows: “ Neither can ye sus-
pend or deprive me in this court of high
commission, for ye have no power in this
court but by commission from his majesty ;
his majesty cannot communicate that power
to you which he claims not to himself.”
At which the king shook his head, and said,
“ Are there not bishops and fathers in the
church, persons clothed with power and
authority to suspend, and depose ?” “ Not
in this court,” answered Calderwood. At
these words there arose such a clamour in
the court, that he was obliged to raise his
voice, in order to be heard. At length the
king asked him, if he would obey the sen-
tence ? To which he replied, “ Your sen-
tence is not the sentence of the kirk, but a
sentence null in itself, and therefore I can-
not obey it.” All months were then
opened against him, reviling and calling
him a proud knave; and some had even
the audacity to shake him by the shoulders,
in the most insolent manner, until at last
he was removed a second time.
Being again brought in, the sentence of
deposition was pronounced, and he was
ordained to be committed to close ward in v
the tolbooth of St Andrews till further
orders should be given for his banishment ;
upon which he was upbraided by the bis—
hops,who said, that he deserved to be treated
like Ogilvy, the Jesuit, whohad been hanged
for denying the king‘s power. “Then
about to reply, the bishop of St Andrews i Cal/L Hist-
Y__ M.
l
I
' said--“ No answer!” and the secretary cast
in his teeth—“ If ye will answer to any-
thing, answer to your libel !” “ I have
answered to that long ago,” said Calder-
wood; whereupon the king, in a rage, cried,
“ Away with him !”——and upon this, lord
Scone taking him by the arm, led him out,
where they staid some time waiting for the
bailiffs of the town. In the meantime
Calderwood said to Scone, “ My lord, this
is not the first like turn that hath fallen
into your hands !"—-“ I must serve the king,”
said Scone. To some ministers who were
standing by, Calderwood said, “ Brethren,
ye have Christ’s cause in hand at this
' meeting; be not terrified with this spectacle;
prove faithful servants to your Master 1”
As the keys of the tolbooth could not be
got at the time, Scone took him to his own
house, until these could be found ; and as
they were walking along, Scone was thus
accosted “ Whither with the man, my
lord ?”—-“ First to the tolbooth,” said l 's
lordship, “ and then to the gallows!”
From the confusion and noise that took
place when Calderwood was before the
king, and from the suggestions made to
him by some of his brethren, he was afraid
that he had misunderstood his majesty;
and therefore he signified the same to the
king in writing,f stating that he had been
so disturbed by those who were standing
round him, that he thought his majesty
meant no more than that he would acknow-
ledge the sentence pronounced by the bishops.
Calderwood was committed a close
prisoner, and the same afternoon an order

When the king read the first part, he said,
“ How could this be?-—-The man had all his senses——
the devil nor be had been red wud, and by his
n ind, and then I had not been so angrie at him."
When he read on, he became more calm ; but the
bishops incensed him again. The king, then. after
havin;r read over the paper, made a mark on the
edge of it; and said, “ I will kenn it by this marl:
among a hundreth, and will advise upon it."—
2 z





S COTS W ORTHIES.



362
\__
, 211;‘
, at
l
l
* l‘tm.» .
.1 .. .I a,‘ “
,llglllzllhu
‘it ” fi- 1


.'~
.I‘
[Tolbooth of Edinburgh, in 1630.]
After this,he went with lord Cranstoun
to the king at Carlisle, where the said lord
presented a petition in his favour, to the
effect that he might only be confined to
his parish; but the king inveighed against
him so much, that at last he repulsed
was given to transport him to the tolbooth
of Edinburgh. Upon this, he was delivered
to two of the guard to be conveyed thither,
although several persons offered to bail
him, that he might not go out of the coun-
try. But no order of council could be had
to that effect; for the king’s intention was
to keep him in close ward till a ship was
ready to convey him first to London, and
then to Virginia. Providence, however,
had ordered otherwise; for, in compliance
with the prayer of several petitions in his
behalf, he was liberated from prison, upon
lord Cranstoun becoming security that he
should depart out of the country.*
l
At Glasgow the 27th day ofthe month of July, ,
1607 years—The whilk day, in presence of the
lords of secret council, compeared personally James
Cranstoun, sonne to William lord Cranstouu, and
acted and obliged him and his heirs as cautioners
and suretie for Mr David Calderwood, minister at
Crailing, that the said Mr David, betwixt the date
hereof, and the feast and terme of Michaelmas next
to come. shall depart and passe forth from his
Cranstoun with his elbow. Calderwood
again insisted for a prorogation of the time
of his departure till the end of April, be-
cause of the winter-season, that he might
have time to get in his year’s stipend. To
this the king replied, “ Howbeit he begged
it were no matter, he would know himself
better the next time ; and for the season of
the year, if he drowned in the seas, he
might thank God that he had escapeda
worse death.” Cranstouu, however, being
importunate for the prorogation, the king
answered, I will advise with my bishops.
Majestie’s dominions, and not return again within
the samine, without his Majestie’s license first had
and obtained thereto, under the pain of five
hundreth merks.—-Cald. Hist.



HUGH BINNING.
363






In this way, the time was protracted till
the year, 1619, that he wrote a book called
Perth Assembly, when he was condemned I
by the council in December of that year :— ’ bly.
but, as he himself says, neither the book nor
the author could be found; for in August
preceding he had embarked for Holland. 1
After the death of James, Calderwood ‘
returned to his native country, where he I
kept himself as retired as possible. Hisj
principal place of residence was at Edin-
burgh, where he exerted himself greatly
in strengthening the hands of non-conform-
ists, until after 1638, when he was admitted 1
minister of Pencaitland, in East Lothian.
After that period he contributed very
much to the carrying on of the covenanted
work in Scotland; for first, he had an
active hand in drawing up some excellent
papers in which were contained the records ,
of church policy betwixt 1576 and 1596, i
which were presented and read by Mrj
Johnston, the clerk, to the General Assem-
bly at Glasgow, in 1638; and then, by re-
commendation of the General Assembly
of 1646, he was required to consider the
order of the visitation of kirks, and trials
of presbyteries, and to make report thereon
to the next Assembly; and again, at the
General Assembly of 1648, a further re-

‘ in a good old age.

commendation was given him, to make a
draught of the form of visitation of particu-
lar congregations, against the next Assem-
He was also one of those appointed,
with Mr Dickson, to draw up the form of
the Directory for the public worship of
God, by the General Assembly of 1643.
After having both spent and been spent,
with the apostle, for the cause and interest
of Jesus Christ, while the English army
lay at Lothian, during 1.651, he went to
J edburgh, where he was taken ill, and died
He was another valiant
champion for the truth, who, in pleading
for the crown and interest of Jesus Christ,
knew not What it was to be intimidated by
the face and frowns of the highest and
most incensed adversaries.
Before he went to Holland, he wrote
the book entitled, Perth Assembly. \Vhile
in Holland, he wrote that learned work
called Altare Damasccnum, with other
pieces in English, which contributed not a
little to keep many straight in that declin-
ing period. After his return, he wrote his
well-known history of our church as far
down as the year 1625, of which the printed
copy is only a short abstract of the manu-
script; which, both as to style and manner
is far preferable.

HUGH BINNING.

THE subject of this memoir was the eldest I
son of John Binning of Dalvennan, and‘
Margaret M‘Kell, daughter of Matthew
M‘Kell, minister of Bothwell, and sister to
llugh M‘Kell, one of the ministers of Edin-
burgh. Binning’s father was possessed of
no inconsiderable estate in the county of
Ayr, which therefore enabled him to bestow
upon his son a liberal education,——the
happy effects of which became very earlv


364
SCOTS WORTHIES.



conspicuous ; and it is pleasant to observe,
that the magnanimity and genius which he
then discovered, afforded his parents the
delightful hope of his becoming, in the end,
a useful and an honourable minister of the
gospel. When at the grammar-school, he
made such proficiency in the Latin lan—
guage, and acquired such a knowledge of
the Roman authors, as to outstrip all his
class-fellows; nay, even those who were by
far his seniors. He had an aversion to
all juvenile sports and amusements; not
from a gloomy or morose disposition ; but
from a conviction that time was too pre-
cious to be trifled with ; and therefore,
while the rest of the scholars were at play,
he employed his time, either in secret com-
religious people. Religion and religious
exercises were his choice; and therefore,
before others began seriously to think of
their lost and undone state by nature, he
enjoyed sweet familiarity with his Saviour,
and lived in near communion with him.
\Vhen he arrived at the thirteenth or four-
teenth year of his age, he had attained to
such experience in the ways of God, that
the most judicious and tried christians in
the place confessed they were much edified,
strengthened, and comforted by him; nay
that he stimulated them to their religious
duties, being sensible that they were far
outrun by a mere youth.
Before he was fourteen years of age, he
entered upon the study of philosophy in the
university of Glasgow, in which he made
such distinguished progress as to attract
the notice both of the professors and his
fellow-students; the latter of whom he left
as far behind, as he had done his more
youthful aspirants in the study of the
The abstruse depths of philo-
sophy, which are the torture of a slow
genius and weak capacity, he dived into
without pain or trouble; by which means
classics.
he was enabled to do more in one hour, ,

I
\ than many could do in some days, by severe
study and close application. Notwith-
standing all this, he was never exalted
above measure, but conducted himself
with becoming humility and condescension;
ever ready to aid those who solicited his
help.
Having completed his course of philo-
sophy, he took the degree of Master of
Arts before he was nineteen years of age;
after which he entered upon the study of
divinity, with a view to serve God in the
holy i'nii'iistry, with a mind richly stored
with the knowledge of the liberal sciem-es,
and deeply impressed with the eternal im-
At this time there

portance of religion.
1 happened to be a vacancy in the college
munion with God, or in conference with ;
of Glasgow, by the resignation of Mr James
Dalrymple of Stair, who had for some time
been his teacher. And though Binning
had been but lately his scholar, yet he was
persuaded, after much entreaty, to stand
candidate for the situation.
According to the usual custom, the
masters of the college emitted a programme,
and sent it to all the universities of the
kingdom; inviting such as had a mind to
dispute for a profession of philosophy, to
sist themselves before them, and offer
themselves to compete for the prefcrment:
giving assurance that, without partiality,
the place should be conferred upon him
who should be found most eminent in
morals and learning.
The ministers of Glasgow, considering
how much it was the interest of the church
that well-qualified persons should be put
into the profession of philosophy; and
knowing that Binning was eminently pious,
and of a bright genius, as well as of a solid
judgment, had frequent conferences with
him in order to induce him to enroll himself
among the competitors. They had much
difiiculty in overcmning his modesty; but
they at last prevailed upon him to declare
his willingness to undertake the disput~




HUGH BINNING.
365




before the masters. Besides Binning, there l
were other two candidates ; one of whom
had powerful interest with Dr Strang, prin-
cipal of the college; and the other was a ’
scholar of great abilities.
ever, so acquitted himself in all parts of his
Binnin g, how- ‘
trial, that in the opinion of the judges, he i
very far eclipsed his rivals ; and as to the l
precise point of lite *ature, cut off all shadow
of a demur and pretence of difficulty as to
the decision.
However, though the Doctor ‘
and some of the Faculty could not pretend i
that
equality, much less a superiority in the
contest; yet they argued, that the person
they inclined to prefer, being a citizen’s
son, having a sufiicient competency of
learning, and being a person of maturer
years, had greater experience than Binning
could be supposed to have, and conse-
quently better qualified to be a teacher of
youth; besides, that Binning having been
but very recently a fellow-student with those
he was to be appointed to teach, it was not
to be expected that the students would be-
their favourite candidate had an‘
l
i
l
have towards him with that respect and re- F
gard which should be paid to a teacher. To
this, however, it was replied,—That Binning
was such an accomplished scholar, so Wise
and sedate, as to be above all the follies
and vanities of youth ; and that what was
wanting in years was made up sufficiently
by his more than ordinary and singular
endowments. Upon which a member of
the faculty, perceiving the contest to be very
keen, proposed a trial between the two

l
candidates extempore, on any subject‘
the judges should be pleased to prescribe.
This put an end to the division between
them; and those who had opposed Binning,
not willing to engage their friend with
such an able antagonist a second time,
withdrew their objections.
He was not quite nineteen years of I
when he was appointed regent and pre-
fessor of philosophy; and though he had ,
not time to prepare any part of his course
systematically, having instantly to begin
his class ; yet such was the quickness and
fertility of his genius, the tenaciousness
of his memory, and the solidity of his judg-
ment, that his dictatefi to the scholars had
a depth of learning, and perspicuity of
expression, seldom equalled. He was
among the first in Scotland that began to
reform philosophy from the barbarous terms
and unintelligible jargon of the schoolmen.
He continued in this profession three
years, and discharged his trust so as to
gain the general applause of the university,,
And this was the more remarkable, that
having turned his thoughts towards the
ministry, he carried on his theological
studies at the same time, and made great
improvements therein; for his memory
was so retentive, that he scarcely forgot
anything he had read or heard.
easy for him to write out any sermon, after
he returned from hearing it, at such length,
that even the intelligent and judicious
reader who had heard it preached, could
scarcely find one sentence wanting.
During this period, he gave full proof
of his progress and knowledge in divinity,
in a composition from 2 Cor. v. 14;‘l‘
which he sent to a lady at Edinburgh
for her private edifieation; who, having
perused the same, and supposing it to be a
sermon of some eminent minister in the
west of Scotland, put it into the hands
of the then provost of Edinburgh, who
judged of it in the same manner. But
when she returned to Glasgow, she found
It was
* It was the custom of the Regents to dictate
to the students their observations on such parts
of the writings of Aristotle, Porphyry, and others
as were read in their classes. This was done in
Latin, which was the only language allowed to be
used by the students, ever. in their common con-
versation—Dr Leis/1772.072.
l "‘ For the lore of Christ eonstraineth us, be-
cause we thusjudge, that if one died for all, then
were all dead.”



366
SCOTS WORTHIES.







her mistake, by Binning asking it from
This was the first discovery he had
given of his abilities in explaining the
Scriptures.
At the expiration of the three years
which he had spent as professor of philo- ;
sophy, the parish of Govan, which lies5
adjacent to the city of Glasgow, and is!
within the bounds of that presbyteryfl
happened to be vacant. Before that time, the principal of the college of Glasgowj
was also minister of Govan.* But this‘
being attended with inconveniences, an
I
her.
alteration was made; and the presby-
tery, having in view to supply the va-‘
cancy with Binning, took him upon_
trials; who, after having been licensed”:
preached there to the great satisfaction of 5
He was some time after
This ;
the people.
called to be minister of that parish.
call the presbytery sustained, and he
entered upon trials for ordination, about
the twenty-second year of his age, which
he went through to the unanimous appro- ,
bation of the presbytery, who gave their
testimony to his fitness to be one of the
ministers of the city upon the first vacancy; I
intending at the same time to recall him 1
to the university, as soon as the divinity
chair should be vacant.
Considering his age, he was a prodigy
of learning ; for, before he was twenty-six,
he had such a large stock of useful know-
ledge, as to be called “philologist, philo-
sopher, and excellent divine ;” and he
might well have been an ornament to the
most famous and flourishing university
in Europe. And this was the more sur-
prising, considering his weakness and in-
firmity of body, not being able to read

The office of principal of the university of
Glasgow was disjoined from the cure of the parish \
of Govan, in 1621. Mr \Villiam Wilkie was,
Binning’s immediate predecessor, who was deposed ’
by the synod, on the 29th of April, l649.--—Dri
Leis/z man.
much at a time, or to undergo the fatigue
of continual study; insomuch that his
knowledge seemed rather to have been
born with him, than to have been acquired
by hard and laborious study.
Though naturally studious and intent
upon fulfilling all his ministerial duties, he
nevertheless turned his thoughts to mar-
riage, and espoused Barbara Simpson, the
excellent daughter of Mr James Simpson,
a minister in Ireland. Upon the day on
which he was to be married, he went, ac-
companied with his friend and some others,
among whom were several ministers, to a
neighbouring country-congregation, upon
the day of their weekly sermon. The
minister of the parish delayed till their ar-
rival, with the intention of procuring the
assistance of some of the ministers whom
he expected to be present; but all declining
I it, he tried to prevail on the bridegroom,
with whom he succeeded. It was no diiii~
cult task to him to preach upon a short
warning. After retiring a little to prc~
meditate, and implore his Master’s presence
and assistance, (for he was ever afiiaid to
be alone in this work,) he entered the pul-
pit immediately and preached from 1 Pet.
i. 15. “ But as he which hath called you
is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of con-
versation.” And at this time he was so
remarkably helped that all acknowledged
that God was with him of a truth.
when the unhappy differences betwixt
the resolutioners and protesters took place
in the church, Binning adhered to the latter
of these denominations. This distinction,
however, proved of fatal consequence. He
saw some of the evils of it in his own time,
and being of a catholic and healing spirit,
with a view to the cementing of differences,
he wrote an excellent treatise on Christian
Love, which contains many strong and
pathetic passages, most apposite to this
subject. He was no fomenter of faction,
but studious of the public tranquillity. He




____ 4_.
. 1

HUGH BINNING.
367


______
was a man of moderate principles and
1"
v
temperate passions, never imposing ori
l
overbearing upon others, but willingly
hearkened to advice, and always yielded
to reason.
After he had laboured four years in the
ministry, serving God with his spirit in the
gospel of his Son, whom he preached, warn-
= ing every man and teaching every man in
great ministerial wisdom and freedom, that
It was on Saturday, the 19th of April, ‘
1651, that Cromwell came to Glasgow with I
the principal part of his army; and next
day he was present at sermon in the High I
Church, where he heard Robert Ramsay, .
John. Carstairs, and James
Their plain dealing, however, and freedom
Durham. .
of speech in condemning him and his army 3
for invading Scotland, not being at all to
Cromwell’s taste, he summoned these three
and all the other clergymen of the city to
|
l
l
l
a meeting in his own lodgings, that he ‘
might vindicate himself and his confederates
from the charges which had been brought 1
against them, and at the same time hear
what his accusers had to advance in their
own defence.
“ At this conference, which appears to
have been conducted with good temper on
both sides,” says Dr Leishman, “ they who
spoke most on the part of the Scottish
clergy, were Mr Patrick Gillespie, ‘prin-
cipal of the University of Glasgow, and
Mr James Guthrie, minister of Stirling,
who forfeited his life at Edinburgh soon
after the Restoration. On the other side,
the principal speakers were Cromwell
himself, and general Lambert, who, like
many other of the parliamentary officers,
was a preacher, as well as a soldier. Some
of Cromwell’s chaplains are also repre-
sented as having taken a share in the discus-
sion, along with the Rev. Hugh Binning.


he might present every man perfect in
Christ J esus,—whereunto he laboured,
‘ striving according to his working, which
wrought in him mightily,—he died of a
consumption, when entering on the twenty-
sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a
sweet savour and an epistle of commenda~
tion upon the hearts of his hearers. While
‘ he lived, he was highly valued and esteemed,
‘ having been a successful instrument of sav-
ing himself and them that heard him; of
turning sinners unto righteousness, and of
perfecting the saints; and died much
lamented by all good people, who had an
opportunity of knowing him. He was a
man of singular piety, of an humble, meek
and peaceful disposition, and a judicious
and lively preacher. He was justly ac-
counted a prodigy for his natural talents,
his great proficiency in human learning,
and an extensive knowledge of divinity;
but he was too shining a light to shine long,
burning so intensely that he was soon
extinguished. Now, however, he shines in
the kingdom of his Father, in a more con-
I
’ spicuous and refulgent manner, even as the
Cromwell, it is said, was struck with the ;
fearlessness and ability of so young a
minister.
young man '4’ said he. “Then he was told
I
his name was Binning, he replied, ‘ He has 1
bound well.
; we cry, Abba, Father.”
‘(ho is that learned and bold '
“brightness of the firmament, and as the
stars for ever and ever.”
The last sermons he preached were those
on Rom. viii. 14, 15. “ For as many as are
led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons
of God. For ye have not received the
spirit of bondage again to fear ; but ye have
received the Spirit of adoption, whereby
He concluded the
last of these discourses with a reflection on
these words, “ Wie cry, Abba, Father.”
He was buried in the churchyard of
But,’ he added, putting hisl Govan, where Mr Patrick Gillespie, then
' o , o l . n n 0
hand, at the same tlme, to his sword, ' this l principal of the university of Glasgow, at
l his own proper charges, caused a monument
will loose all again.’ ”

___l
368
SCOTS WORTHIES.



_-_ . __.__,_______

to be erected for him, on which there is to former husband, undertaking to defray
this day the following inscription in Latin: ' all the charges of the fimeral,-which was
HIC SITVS n11. nveo BJNNINGVS;
vm PIETATE, mevxmx, noc'rmm
ei..\nvs ; rutimroovs. rmLosornvs,
THEOLOGVS rmnsraxs ; rnaaco
DENIQVE EVANGELI] FIDELls
ET EXDIIVS. ovr nnmo msnvn evizsv
SVBLATVS, Aixn'o JETA'I‘IS 26. non.
AVTEM 1653. :uv'rAvrr rx'rnun NON
SOCIETATEM, no QVOD vivvs cvn
nno .\.\mvLAvrr. 151‘ s1 QVII) VL'I‘RA
INQVIRAR, em'rnna SILEO; evn NBC
TV NEG MAIL-H01’. noc
CAPIA'I‘.”
He left behind him a. disconsolate widow
and an only son, called John after the
grandfather, to whom the grandfather at
his death had left the estate of Dalvennan ;
but John having been engaged in the in-
surrection at Bothwell-bridge. anno 1679,
it was forfeited, and he continued dispos-
sessed of it till the year 1690; when, by the
18th act of parliament in the said year, the
forfeitures and fines past since the year
1655, to the 5th day of November, 1688,
were rescinded. His widow was after-
wards married to a Mr James Gordon,
for some time a presbyterian minister at'
Comber, in Ireland. She lived to a
great age, and died in the year 1694, at
Paisley, in the shire of Renfrew, about four
or five miles from Govan; which, when
the people of that parish heard, the savoury
memory they still had of their worthy
pastor, made them desire the friends of
the deceased to allow them to give her a
decent and honourable burial, beside her
“ Here is deposited Mr Hugh Binning, a man
distinguished for piety, eloquence and learning;
an eminent philologist, philosopher, and theolo-
gian,-—in fine a faithful and excellent preacher of
the gospel; who was removed from this lower world
in the 26th year of his age, and in the year of our
Lord, 1653. He changed his country, not his
society; because when on earth he walked with
God. If thou inquirest anything farther. I am
silent as to the rest; since neither thou nor this
marble can receive it.”

done accordingly. And to this day Bin-
ning is mentioned among them with parti-
cular veneration.
The first of his works that were printed
is entitled, “ The Common Principles of
the Christian Religion, clearly proved, and
singularly improved; or a Practical Cate-
chism, wherein some of the most concern-
ing foundations of our faith are solidly laid
down ; and that doctrine which is accord-
ing to godliness, is sweetly, yet pungently
pressed home, and most satisfyingly hand-
led.” In the year 1670, another posthu-
mous work was printed: it is entitled,
“ The Sinner’s Sanctuary; being forty
Sermons upon the Eighth chapter of the
Epistle to the Romans, from the first verse
down to the sixteenth.” A third treatise
was printed at Edinburgh, in the year 1671.
The title of it is, “ Fellowship with God,
being twenty-eight Sermons on the First
Epistle of John, Chap. 1st, and Chap. 2d,
Verses 1, 2, 8.” The last. treatise that has
been printed is, “ Heart Humiliation, or
Miscellany Sermons, preached upon some
choice texts at several solemn occasions.”
There is also a valuable treatise upon
Christian Love, consisting of several sheets
written in a very small eharaeter,--it is
divided into chapters; besides several ser-
mons upon very edifyin g subjects, useful and
profitable for our times. There is, likewise,
a book published under his name in 4to,
consisting of fifty-one pages, with this title,
“ An Useful Case of Conscience, learnedly
and accurately discussed and resolved, con-
cerning associations and confederacies with
idolaters, infidels, heretics, malignants, or
any otherknown enemies of truth and godli-
ness.” But it is very much questioned by the
most intelligent, if that book was really Bin-
ning’s.





ANDREW GRAY.
369




“~—
ANDREW GRAY.

IN the biography of this illustrious young
divine, there is an uncertainty regarding
the exact period of his birth ; but, calculat-
ing back from the date of a letter address-
ed by him on his deathbed to Lord War-
riston, on the 7th day of February, 1656 ;
and bearing in mind that he became a
licentiate before he had completed his
twentieth year, with two years and a half
that he was incumbent in his first and only
charge, it appears that he must have been
born in the year 1633. Having been very
early sent to school, he made such rapid
progress, that in a comparatively short
time he was qualified for entering the
university—and there, by the sprightliness
of his genius, he made such proficiency
both in scholastic learning and divinity,
that before he was twenty years of age he
was prepared to enter upon the holy office
of the ministry.
From his very infancy he had studied
the scriptures; and, like another young
Samson, the Spirit of God began very
early to move him: there being such a
dclightfiil solemnity in his early conversa-
tion, that what (,éregory Nazianzen once
said of the great Bazil might well be ap-
blied to him,—-“ That he held forth learn—
ing beyond his age, and fixedness of man-
ners beyond his learning.”
As an earthen vessel, being thus filled
with heavenly treasure, he was quickly,
licensed to preach, and soon after received

l
l
l
l

a call to be minister of the Outer High
Church of Glasgow, although he had
hardly arrived at the twentieth year of his
l
l
i .
of address was animated and rapturous,
appointed by the constitution of the church,
except in extraordinary cases;
No sooner had he entered into his
Master’s vineyard, than the people from
all quarters flocked to hear his sermons,-—-it
being their constant emulation who should
be most under the refreshing drops of his
ministry; insomuch that, as he and his
learned colleague, Mr Durham, were one
time walking together in the choir, Mr
Durham, observing the multitude throng-
ing into the church where Gray was to
preach, and only a few going into his own,
said to him, “ Brother, I perceive you are
to have a throng church to day.”——To
which Gray answered, “ Indeed, brother, ,
they are fools to leave you and come to
me.”'—“ Not so,” replied Durham, “ for i
none can receive such honour and success
in his ministry, except it be given him
from heaven. I rejoice that Christ is
preached, and that his kingdom and inter-
est are gaining ground; for I am content
to be anything, or nothing, that Christ
may be all in all.”
Gray had a ren'iarkably singular gift in
preaching, having much experience in the
most mysterious points of Christian prac-
tice and profession; indeed, in handling
all his subjects, whether doctrinal, or
practical, being free from youthful pe-
dantry and affectation of human learning,
though of a truly classical genius and
more than ordinary abilities, be out-
stripped many who had entered the
Lord’s vinevard before him. His mode
age, and therefore considerably below that l and well adaptedgto affect the hearts
A


370 SCOTS WORTHIES.




of his hearers; nay, he was so helped § heavenly inheritance, prepared for him
to press home God’s threatenings upon , before the foundation of the world.
the consciences of his hearers, that his, Upon one occasion, when sailing to
contemporary, Durham, observed, “ that; Dundee in company with Mr Robert
many times he caused the very hairs of Fleming, minister of Cambuslang, he had
their heads to stand on end.” a very narrow escape from a watery grave.
Among his other excellencies in preach- ‘ This remarkable interference of Provi-
ing, this was none of the least, that he i dence for his deliverance furnished him
could so handle any subject as to make it with a theme of gratitude, which he often
acceptable to every taste, and intelligible , improved in his after life.
to the meanest capacity. He had so‘ Perhaps it may be asked,—what were
learned Christ, that the great bent andl Gray’s sentiments concerning the public
aim of his preaching was, to make 1 resolutions, seeing he entered the ministry
sinners acquainted with their dangerous about the third year after these resolutions

state by nature, and to persuade them
to believe, and lay hold of the great
salvation.
By these singular gifts he was looked
upon as a burning and a shining light in
the church; but he was permitted to re-
main about two years only,——the Spirit of
the Lord as it were lighting up a lamp
into a sudden blaze, that was not to re-
main long in his church. In reference to
this, in a preface to some of his sermons
it is very pertinently observed,-—“ How
awakening, convincing, and reproving, the
example of this very young minister might
be to many ministers of the gospel who
have been long in the vineyard, but come
far short of his labours and progress! God
thinks fit now and then to raise up a child to reprove the sloth and negligence of;
many thousands of advanced years‘; and
shows that he can perfect his own praise
out of the mouths of babes and suck-
lings.”
It has been said that Gray often longed
for the twenty-second year of his age,
having had a presentiment that he was
then to rest from his labours, and by a
perpetual jubilee enjoy his blessed Lord
and Master~ for ever. And certain it is,
that in his sermons we often find him
ardently praying for the time when he
might enter upon the possession of the
‘took place? To this it is answered:—
i Whatever his contendings in public were,
it is pretty well authenticated that he
warmly opposed his colleague Durham, who
was suspected of looking favourably upon
these defections. His reply to Durham
when on his deathbed, when asked what
he now thought of these things, was con-
clusive: “ I am of the same mind as for--
merly, and regret much that I have been
so sparing in public against these resolu--
tions,”-—speaking at the same time so
pathetically of their sinfulness, and the
calamities they must induce, that Durham,
contrary to his former practice, durst
5 never after speak in defence of them.
But the time was now drawing nigh when
the Lord was about to accomplish what
his soul had most anxiously longed for.
1 Having caught fever, he was for several
‘idays in great bodily suffering; but his
; mind was in a state of perfect quietude and
: serenity. And thus, in a very short time
it was permitted to him to pass by death
to the Author of life,—his soul taking flight
at the early age of twenty-two, into the
arms of his Saviour, whom he had St'l‘tml
so faithfully in his day and generation.

He was a very singular and pious youth;
and though he died young, he was old in
grace, having done much for God in a short
time. Both in public and private life, he


ANDRE W GRAY.
371


possessed a high degree of every domestic and
social virtue that could adorn the character
of a Christian and a minister; being a
loving husbandj“ an affable friend, ever
cheerful and agreeable in conversation, and
always ready to exert himself for the relief
of those who asked and stood in need of
assistance ; whilst his uncommon talents
not only endeared him to his brethren, but
also to many others from the one extremity
of the land to the other, who regarded and
esteemed him as one of the most able ad-
vocates for the propagation and advance-
ment of Christ’s kingdom.
It is to be regretted that his dying
words were not ‘recorded. In the short
but excellent letter, however, sent by
him, a little before his death, to lord
W'arriston, he shows, that he not only
had a more clear discovery of the toleration
then granted by Cromwell, and the evils
that would come upon the country for all
these things, but also that he was most
sensible of his own case and condition.
This more especially appears from the con-
clusion of the letter, where he addressed
his lordship thus: “ Now, not to trouble
your lordship, whom I highly reverence
and my soul was knit to you in the Lord,
but that you will bespeak my case to the
great Master of requests, and lay my broken 1
state before him who hath pled the desper- :
ate case of many, according to the sweet7
word in Lam. iii. 56, ‘ Thou hast heard2
my voice ; hide not thine ear at my breath-
ing, at my cry.’
from one in a very weak condition, in a
great fever, who, for much of seven nights,
hath sleeped little at all, with many other ‘
sad particulars and circumstances.”
His well-known sermons are printed in
several tracts.
* It appears that he had been for a short time
married to a worthy young lady, who afterwards
became the wife of Ur George Hutcheson, some
time minister of the gospel at Irvine.
‘This is all at this time 1
Those called Gray’s “forks

l are published in one volume octavo. Ir.
1 addition to the eleven sermons printed
‘ some time ago, was lately published a large
1 collection, to the number of fifty-one, en-
titled his Select Sermons; in which only
three of those formerly published for con-
nexion’s sake, and his letter to lord War-
riston, are inserted. By this time, most,
if not all, of the sermons ever preached by
him are in print. His works praise
lhim in the gates; and though they are
free from the metaphysical speculations of
the schools, yet it must be granted, that
the excellencies of the ancient fathers and
schoolmen all concentrate in them. His
doctrine is clear and perspicuous ; his re—
proofs weighty ; and his exhortations very
powerful; and though, according to the
manner of the age in which he lived, they
may seem deficient in connexion and cor-
rectness of style, yet these are more than
counterbalanced by the pleasing variety
and excellence of the truths they contain.
Like the gratefiil odours of a profusion of
flowers, or the delightful harmony of con-
cordant sounds, they never fail to impart
happiness to the renewed soul.

TESTIMONY
OF
ANDREW GRAY.

“ My Lord,—It may seem strange, that
after so long interruption of intercourse
. with your lordship by letters, I should at
this juncture of time write to you, wherein
there seems to be a toleration of tongues,
and lusts, and religion, wherein many by
their practice say, ‘ our tongues are our
i own.’ I am afraid, that sad word shall be
' spoken to Scotland yet seven times more,
I ‘ That whereas he hath chastised with
‘ whips, he will now do it by scorpions, and
little finger shall be heavier than his
l loins in former times.’ If our judgments
ithat seem to approach, were known, and


372
SCOTS WORTHIES.




these terrible things in righteousness, by
which he, whose furnace is in Jerusalem,
is like to speak to us, were seen and print“
ed on a board, it might make us cry out,
‘ Who shall live when God doth these
things, and who can dwell with everlasting
burnings ?’
“ He hath broken his staff of Bands, and
is threatening to break his staff of Beauty,
that his covenant which he hath made with
all the people might not be broken. Is it
not to be feared, ‘That. the sword of the
justice of God is bathed in heaven, and‘
will come down to make a sacrifice, not in
the land of Idumea, or Bozrah, but on
these that were once his people, who have
broken his everlasting covenant, and
changed his ordinances?’ What shall
Scotland be called? Lo-ruhamah and Lo-
ammi, who was termed Beulah and Heph- ‘
zibah, ‘ A people delighted in, and married
to the Lord!’ I think that curse in Zeph.
i. 17. is much accomplished in our days,
‘ They shall walk like blind men, because if
they have sinned against the Lord.’ Does
not our carriage under all these speaking
and afiiicting dispensations, fighting against
God in the furnace, and our dross not de-
parting from us, speak this with our hearts,
‘ That for three transgressions, and for
four, he will not turn away the punishment
of these covenanted lands?’ And this
shall be our blot in all generations-—‘ this
is that Scotland that in its afflictions sins
more and more.’ It is no wonder then,
that we be put to our, ‘ How long, how
long wilt thou hide thy face I How long
wilt thou forget, O Lord! 0 Lord, how
shall thy jealousy burn like a fire, and we
hear the confused noise of war, and of
rumours of war I’
“ Since God has put it, ‘ How long wilt
thou go about, O thou backsliding daugh-
ter’ Jer. xxxi. 22,‘—are ye not gadding
about to change, turning his glory into
shame, and loving lying vanities?



there are four How longs that God is put
to lament over Scotland, and which are
I most in Luke ix. 41,—-—‘ How long shall I
be with you, and suffer you?’ Is not
Christ necessitated to depart, and to make
us a land sown with salt and grass in our
most frequented congregations? Ay, be-
lieve it, ere it be long, these two words
shall be our lot; there is that in J er. ii. 31,
‘ O generation, see the word of the Lord ;’
when these that would not hear him in his
word, shall see him in his dispensations;

And ,
when all our threatenings shall be preached
i to our ears; and that word in Hosea vii.
12, ‘ I will chastise them as their congre-
gation hath heard.’ O shall poor Scotland
serve themselves heirs to the sins of the
Gadarenes, to desire Christ to Hit out of
ytheir coasts, and to subscribe the bill of
divorce (in a manner) before Christ sub’
scribe it? It is like, these three sad evi-
dences of afiiiction that are in Isaiah xlvii.
, 11, ‘ shall come upon us in their perfection.’
, I shall add no more on a sad subject.
1 “ My lord, not being able to write to you
I

with my own hand, I have thought fit to
present these few thoughts unto you by the
hand of a friend.
“ I know not (I will not limit him,) but
I may stand within that judgment-hall,
where that glorious and spotless high priest
doth sit, with that train that does fill the
temple: and, O to be among the last of
these that are hidden come in, and partake
of that everlasting peace I O what a poor
report will the messengers of the covenant
and gospel make, whose image they crucify
in their hearts, to whom I may apply these
words by allusion, ‘The morning of con-
version is to them as the terrors of death,
and as the terrors of the breaking in of the
day to the destroying of them? What a
poor account will some of us make, both
as to the answer of our conscience, and as
to the answer of his pains taken upon us,
and as to the answer of his promises, and



JAMES DURHAM.
373




f
as to the answer of his threatenings, and in some single respects, I hope, I may say,
as to the answer of his commands, and as
to the answer of our light?
“ I shall say no more, but I am yours
l
l
l
dying in Christ,
ANDREW GRAY.
To Lord Warriston.

JAM ES DURHAM.

THIS very exemplary reformer was the
eldest son of John Durham, Esq, of
Easter Powrie, and lineally descended
from the ancient and honourable family of
Grange Durham, in the parish of Mony-
feith, and shire of Angus,—an estate now
known by the name of Wedderburn. He
is said to have been born about the year
1622 ; but all his biographers are silent
regarding his early years, with the excep-
tion of an unanimous assent to his juvenile
industry, as having been an apt and suc-
cessful scholar.
It does not appear that he had any views
to the ministry during his academical
studies, as he left the university without


graduating, and went to live as a private =_
gentleman upon his country estate, where
he married a daughter of the laird of Dan-
tervie, who, with her mother, are said to
have been very pious women. Through
the prejudice of early education, he did not
at that time look favourably upon the
presbyterian form of church government.
Previous to his union with this excellent
lady, although guilty of no flagrant and open
violation of the law of God,vet he was much .
a stranger to vital religion, having merely a
name to live, while he was actually dead in
trespasses and sins. He had an early lean-
ing towards Episcopacy; and therefore rested
contented with an outward form of godli-
l
l
ness, while he was destitute of the saving
power thereof. But he was not to remain
long in this state—the Spirit of God had
marked him out for gracious purposes, and
he was destined soon to take an active part
in the cause of Presbytery.
His conversion, therefore, was effected
by an incident somewhat remarkable.
Being on a visit, along with his wife, to
his mother in law, in the parish of Aber-
corn, in the county of Linlithgow, and it
happening to be the time of the communion,
he was through much persuasion, at the
entreaty of his wife and mother, prevailed
upon to go to church, upon the Saturday.
The minister who officiated that day
caught Durham's attention so effectually,
that he felt much affected. No solicita-
tions, therefore, were necessary to induce
him to return upon the Sabbath. Having
got up early in the morning, he repaired
to church with his friends, when a sermon,
preached by the Rev. Mr Melville, was
made instrumental, in the hand of the
Spirit, for determining him to close with
Christ, and accept the seal of the covenant,
by complying with the Saviour’s invitation,
“ Do this Mr
)Ielville‘s discourse, upon that occasion,
was from 1 Pet. 2. 7,——“ Unto you there-
fore which believe he is precious: but unto
them which be disobedient. the stone which
in remembrance of me!”
#7
SCOTS WORTHIES.

‘fut/m‘ when he spoke of him.

~—___
the builders disallowed, the same is made
the head of the corner,” &c. From that
time Durham generally called Melville
After that .
he made religion his daily business, and?
the Scots army were about to engage with
cordially embraced Christ and his church
as then established.
. . /
Readm g an d medita- r
tion became his sole delight: and that he '
might enjoy these without molestation, he
caused a private study to be built for him-
self, where he was often so serious in his
application, that he frequently forgot the
hour of meals, and sometimes did not even
return an answer to the servant when sent
to warn him.
By this mode of seclusion, he became
not only an experimental christian, but a
very learned man; ready in debate, and
master of polemical divinity?“
Such was also his reputation in the country,
that he was frequently chosen arbiter by
the people to settle any disputes that arose
perfect
among them ; and to his decision all bowed ,
submissively. In this respect, the language
of J ob might well be applied to him,—
“ Unto him men gave ear, and waited, and
kept silence at his counsel.”
During the civil wars, he took up arms,
with many others of the gentlemen, for the
cause of religion, and was chosen captain
of a company. In this situation he might
be esteemed another Cornelius, being a
most devout man, and one who not only
feared God with all his house, but even
i“ At one time when upon a visit to Dundee, he
happened to be in company with one of the minis-
ters there, when the conversation turned upon the
Popish controversy. Durham supported his part
of the argument so dexterously, that the minister
left the room, and went to the provost, asking his
assistance to apprehend a Jesuit; who, if permitted
to remain in the town, might pervert many from
the faith.
he saluted him most familiarly, as laird of Easter
Powrie, and turning to the parson, said,-—“Fy,
Fy! Sir, that any country gentleman should be
able thus to put our parson to silence!” Durham
smiled, and asked pardon.
When the provost saw the gentleman, l
, himself to His service in the holy ministry,

prayed with his company, and seriously
exhorted them regarding the interests of
their souls.
The circumstance of his call to the
ministry was somewhat singular. When
the English, he thought it proper to call his
con'ipany to prayer before the engagement;
and as he began, Mr David Dickson, then
professor of divinity at Glasgow, coming
past the army, and seeing the soldiers
engaged in prayer, and hearing the voice
of one praying, drew near, alighted from
his horse, and joined with them. He was
so much captivated by Durham’s prayer,
that he immediately after waited upon
him, and solemnly charged him, that as
soon as this should be over he should
devote himself to the ministry; because
he judged the Lord called him to this.
Although Durham was not at that time
fully resolved to comply with Mr Dickson’s
advice. yet two remarkable providences
falling out immediately after, he was very
soon induced to yield obedience-—-The first
was, that in the engagement, his horse
was shot under him, and he was mercifully
preserved; the second, that in the heat of
the battle, an English soldier, on the point
of striking him down with his sword,
but apprehending him to be a minister by
his grave carriage, black cloth and band,
l . . . .
which was then in fashion with gentlemen,
asked him if he was a priest? To which
Durham replied, I am one of God’s priests;
——and so his life was spared. Upon re-
flecting how wonderfully the Lord had
I
thus saved him, and that his stating him-
self to be a priest had been the cause of
his preservation, he at once resolved, in
testimony of his grateful sense of the
Lord’s goodness, thenceforth to devote
if He should see meet to qualify him for
the same.
in pursuance of this resolution, he soon



JAMES DURHAM.
375




after went to Glasgow, studied divinity
under his respected friend, and made such
proficiency, that he offered himself for
trials in 1646, and was licensed by the
presbytery of Irvine to preach the gospel.
Next year, upon Mr Dickson’s recommen-
dation, the session of Glasgow directed
Mr Ramsay, one of the ministers, to re-
quest Durham to come to town and preach.
He accordingly came, and preached two
sabbaths and one week-day ; and the
session being fully satisfied with his doc“
trine, and the gifts bestowed on him by
the Lord for serving Him in the ministry,
unanimously called him to Blackfriars’
church, then vacant, to which he was
ordained in November, 1647. ‘
He applied himself to the work of the
ministry with great diligence; but, con-
sidering that no man that warreth en-
rangleth himself with the affairs of this
life, he obtained leave to visit the place of
his nativity to settle his worldly affairs.
While there, however, he preached ever I
sabbath. His first appearance was at

Dundee, where he preached from Rom. i.
16,-“ I am not ashamed of the gospel of
Christ ;” the second, at F erling, where he
delivered an eloquent discourse from 2
Cor. v. 20,-—“ We then are ambassadors
for Christ,” 820.; next sabbath he in-
tended to preach at Montrose; but re-
ceiving an express that his wife was
dangerously ill, he returned to Glasgow,
where in a few days, she, who had been
the desire of his eyes, died. His Christian
submission under this afflicting dispensa-
tion was very remarkable. After a short
silence, he said to some about him, “ Now,
who could persuade me that this dispensa-
tion of God’s providence was good for me,
if the Lord had not said it was so ?”—He
was afterwards married to Margaret Muir,
relict of Zachariah Boyd, minister of the
Barony church of Glasgow.
In 1650, Mr Dickson, professor of di-
vinity, being called to the same office in
i the university of Edinburgh, the commis

sioners of the General Assembly, authorized
to visit the university of Glasgow, un-



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376
SCOTS WORTHIES.









animously invited Durham to succeed him.
But before he was admitted to that charge,
the General Assembly, persuaded of his
eminent piety, steadfastness, prudence, and
moderation, after mature deliberation, se-
lected him, though then only twenty-eight
years of age, to attend the king’s family as
chaplain. In this situation, though the
times were extremely difficult, he acquitted
himself so wisely and faithfully as to merit
the approbation of all who observed him.
Indeed, during his stay at court, such was
his high christian decorum, that levity was
overawed in his presence. His great ambi-
tion was to have God’s favour rather than
that of great men, and he studied more to
profit and edify their souls, than to please
their fancies.
He continued in this office till the King
returned to England, after which he re—
sumed his professional labours. Towards
the end of January 1651, the common
session of Glasgow instructed Mr Gillespie
to write him, stating that Mr Ramsay was
officiating as professor of divinity, and
urging his return to his charge; in conse-
quence of which we find him present at
the session in the beginning of April there-
after. Cromwell, being in Glasgow with
his army at the time, went, first Lord’s
day, to church; and Durham, without the
least intin'iidation, openly inveighed to his
face against his unjustifiable invasion.
Next day Cromwell sent for him, and said,
he always thought he had been a wiser
man than to meddle with public affairs in
his sermons—To which Durham answered,
that it was not his practice, but he judged
it both wisdom and prudence to speak his
mind on that head, seeing he had the
miportunity to do so in his presence——
Cromwell dismissed him very civilly, but
desired him not to meddle with such sub-
jects in future.
It would appear that Durham had
withdrawn from Glasgow for some time
1 after this; and therefore a letter was in


August thereafter sent to him to come
and preach; and in September, there being
a vacancy in the Inner High Church by
reason of the death of Mr Ramsay, the
common session gave him a unanimous
call, with which the town council agreed.
Accordingly, he was admitted minister
of that church,—-Mr John Carstairs, his
brother-in-law, being his colleague.
During the whole of his ministry he
was distinguished for humility and self-
denial; and being a person of the utmost
sedateness of manner, he was seldom seen to
smile-—however, being once at dinner in a
gentleman’s family, along with Mr William
Guthrie, who was a very pleasant and
cheerful companion, he was so far overcome
as to laugh aloud at some of Mr Guthrie’s
smart sayings. It being also the custom
of the family to join in prayer after dinner,
Mr Guthrie was asked to offer up an
address, which he did with such becoming
solemnity, as to elicit from Durham the
following brief eulogium,-—“ O William,
you are a happy man; if I had been as
merry as you have been, I could not have
been in such a serious frame for prayer,
for the space of forty-eight hours 1”
Though he was very devout in every part
of his ministerial work, he was especially so
upon communion occasions. At these he
(-rmleavoured, through grace, to elevate his
mind to such a divine frame, as befits the
spirituality and high importance of the
ordinance of the supper. Upon some of
those sweet and solemn occasions, he spoke
like one who had been in heaven, recom-
mending the Saviour, making a glorious
display of his free grace, and bringing the
offer thereof so low, and pressing it so
urgently, especially in a discourse from
Mat. xxii. 4., that it was a wonder to
sinners themselves how they could refuse
to close with them.
His pacific turn of mind, and great






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' moderation /'of spirit, appeared remarkably
at the peri‘bd when the church was griev-
ously divided betwixt the revolutioners and
protesters; and as he would never give
jud/g/ment on either side, he used to say,
‘f/T hat division was far worse than either.”
He was equally respected by both parties;
for, at the meeting of synod at Glasgow,
when the different bodies met separately,
each made choice of Durham for their
moderator; but he refused to accept, until
they would unite; which they did ac-
cordingly.
So weighty was the ministerial charge
upon his spirit, that he used to say, if he
were to live ten years longer, he would
choose to live nine years in study, for
preaching the tenth; and it was believed
that his close study and application brought
on the decay of which he died. During
his last sickness, about a month before
his death, he named as his successor, Mr
Veiteh, then minister of Govan; but after--
wards, when dying, in presence of the
magistrates, ministers, and some others
who waited on him, he named other three.
This alteration led Mr Carstairs to in-
quire the reason, after the rest were gone;
to whom Durham in reply, said, “ O
brother, Mr Veitch is too ripe for heaven
to be transported to any church on earth;
he will be there almost as soon as I,”—-
and this proved to be the case; for, Dur-
ham having died on the Friday following.
Mr Veitch preached the next Sabbath;
and though he knew nothing of this, he
told the people in the afternoon, it would
be his last sermon to them; and the same
night taking bed, he died next Friday
morning about three o’clock, as Dr Rat-
tray, who was present at both their deaths,
declared.
When on his deathbed, Durham was

l
l
or written, there is but one scripture I can
remember or dare grip unto; tell me if I
dare lay the weight of my salvation upon it—
“Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no
wise cast out.” Mr Carstairs answered,
“ You may depend upon it, though you had
a thousand salvations at hazard.” When
drawing near his departure, and in great
conflict and agony, he cried out in a rap-
ture of holy joy, a little before he com-
mitted his soul to God, “ Is not the Lord
good? Is he not infinitely good? See
how he smiles ! I do say it, and I do pro-
claim it.” Thus died that eminent saint,
on Friday the 25th of June 1658, in the
thirty-sixth year of his age, whose labours
had always aimed at the advancement of
religion, and whose praise is throughout all
the churches, both at home and abroad.
He was a star of the first magnitude, of
whom it may be said, without derogating
from the merit of any, that he “ had a name
among the mighty.”
His colleague, Mr John Carstairs, it.
his funeral sermon, from Isa. lvii. 1, “ The
righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it
to heart; and merciful men are taken
away, none considering that the righteous
is taken away from the evil to come,” gave
him the following character :——-“ Know ye
not that there is a prince among the pas-
tors fallen to-day!
steward, that knew well how to give God’s
children their food in due season; a gentle
a faithful and wise
and kind nurse ; a faithful admonisher and
‘ reprover; a skilful counsellor in all straits
under considerable darkness about his spiri- ,
tual state, and said to Mr John Carstairs
--"' Brother, for all that I have preached I
and difficulties; in dark matters he was
eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, a burn-
ing and shining light in the dark world, an
interpreter of the word, one amonga thou-
sand; to him men gave ear, and after his
words no man spake again.” Not only in
the city, but also in the country, did his
brethren in the presbytery allude to his
death; and in particular, Mr Teitch,
whose death he had foretold, was forward




3 B
378
SCOTS WORTHIES.




amongst others to pay a tribute to his
character.
His learned and pious works, in which
concentrate all the excellencies of the
primitive and ancient fathers, are a Com-
mentary on the Revelation; seventy-two
Sermons on the fifty-third chapter of the
Prophecy of Isaiah; an Exposition of the
Ten Commandments; an Exposition of the
Song of Solomon; his Sermons on Death;
on the Unsearchable Riches of , Christ; his
Communion Sermons; Sermons on Godli-
ness and Self-denial; a Sermon on a Good
Conscience. There were lately a great
many of his sermons in manuscript un-

v—\
published, viz., three Sermons upon Resist-
ing the Holy Ghost, from Acts‘ vii. 51.;
eight on Quenching the Spirit; five upon
Grieving the Spirit; thirteen upon Trusting
and Delighting in God; two againsthim.-
moderate Anxiety; eight upon the DIR—I" ..
Thing Needful; With a Discourse upon
Prayer, and several other sermons and
discourses. There is also a Treatise on
Scandal, and an Exposition, by Way of
Lecture, upon Job, said to be his; but
Whether these, either as to style or strain,
cohere with the other Works of the laborious
Durham, must be left to the impartial and
unbiassed reader, to determine.

SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.

CONSIDERABLE doubt exists as to the birth- ;
place and parentage of this celebrated di-
vine. The most probable opinion, however, ‘
is that which has been stated by WodroW, F
that he Was sprung of poor and honest
parents in Teviotdale.* Where he re-
ceived his early education, has never been
ascertained; but he seems to have given
such indications of talent, as to have
encouraged his parents in affording him
an opportunity of still farther prosecuting
his studies. Accordingly, in 1617, he was
' This statement is in part corroborated by re-
cent inquiries; and, it may at length be atlirmed, ‘
that Samuel Rutherford was born in the parish of
Nisbet, now annexed to Crailing, in the presby-
tery of .ledburgh. Mr Brown, minister of Crail-
ing, states “that he was born at Nisbet, where the
house in which he was born, or at least a house
situated on the same spot, is pointed out.”—_/Uur-
ray’s Life of Rutherford.
sent to the university of Edinburgh; and
in four years, he obtained the degree of
Master of Arts.* At college, Rutherford
distinguished himself among his fellow--
students by his attainments, particularly
in classical literature; so that in two years
after he had received his degree in the
arts, he was elected professor of humanity.
At the time when he Was admitted a
regent, the university, though it had only
existed for forty years, had attained no
small celebrity, and possessed, among its
professors, some men of fame and of ex-
tensive scholarship.

With such associates
Rutherford entered upon his important
* The professors under whom Rutherford studied
were, Andrew Stevenson, regent of humanity, and
§ Andrew Young, one of the regents ofphilosophy,-
men of great respectability as teachers, though not
[ much known as authors.--Ibz'a'.






SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 379



duties with enthusiasm and energy; and f parish of Anwoth on the reception of
there is little doubt that he must have,! Rutherford as their pastor was peculiarly
proved a most able and successful teacher. gratifying to his mind, and afforded him
Of this, however, we have no certain in- l the prospect of much comfort and useful-
formation, as his connexion with the uni-
ness: and in this respect his anticipations
versity appears to have terminated in the were more than realized. The people
short space of two years. loved and revered him ; they waited upon
In 1627, We find him settled as parish his ministry with regularity and evident
minister of Anwoth, in the stewartry of profit; for, to use the words of his con-
Kirkcudbright.* This appointment he temporary, Livingstone, “while he was at
obtained through Gordon of Kenmure, Anwoth, he was the instrument of much
gentleman distinguished in those days as good among a poor ignorant people, many
the assiduous and active promoter of true of whom he brought to the knowledge and
practice of religion.” The industry and
religion, as far as his influence extended.
At the period when Rutherford became zeal with which Rutherford discharged his
minister of Anwoth, prelacy had so far important functions as a minister, are al-
gained the ascendancy over presbyterian-
most incredible.
ism, that although many secretly adhered l rise every morning at three o’clock; the
to the principles of their fathers, the juris- early part of the day was devoted to
diction of bishops in Scotland was openly prayer, meditation, and Study; and the
recognised and avowed. No minister could rest to his more public duties, such as the
enter upon a charge Without declaring his visitation of the sick, and the catechising
submission to all the conditions imposed of the different families of his flock. “ My
by‘ the biShOp Of the (1100658 within which Witness is above,” he says in one of his
the parish was situated. In the case of letters to his beloved people, “that your
Rutherford, however, there seems to have heaven would be two heavens to me, and
been an exception; for, according to the the salvation of you all as two salvations
statement of Mr M‘Ward, his friend and to me.”
pupil, corroborated by Wodrow, he 0b- The fame of Rutherford was not con-
tained full possession of all his rights and fined to his Own parish7 but extended also
privileges as a parish minister, “without to the surrounding district. Multitudes
came from all quarters to Anwoth on the
Sabbath, and more especially on sacra-
mental occasions, to listen to the faithful
ministrations of this devoted minister of
Christ. For a few years after he came
to Galloway, his life was a scene of un-
' clouded prosperity, of unbroken and un-
interrupted peace. As a follower of Him
who said, “ In the world ye shall have
tribulation,” the pious Rutherford could
not, and in reality did not, expect that
such a state of things would always con-
Many were the trfals which yet
awaited him in this vale of tears; and ere
long he began to feel that suffering of one
I
|
l
I
|
giving any engagement to the bishop.”
The harmony which prevailed in the

" The Church of Anwoth was built for Ruther- f
ford in 1626. A new parish church has been built
lately ; but the heritors, much to their honour, have
preserved the ancient venerated building. It is
of a barn-like appearance, the length being 64
feet, 7 inches; the width, 18 feet, 3 inches; the
side walls only 10 feet. calculated to hold not above
250 sitters, exclusive of small galleries, which are
of comparatively recent erection. The pulpit is of
oak, and is the very one out of which the cele-
brated subject of these pages preached. His
stipend consisted of "200 merks Scots, about £11
sterling, derived from the tenants of the parish,
and of a voluntary contribution on the part of his
aearers—fljurray's Life ofRut/zelfoi d.
tinue.
He was accustomed to‘



380
SCOTS WORTHIES.





~__________

kind or another is the portion of man, and
more especially of the man who is to be
distinguished by high attainments in the
divine life, or extensive usefulness in the
church of God. He was doomed to ex-
perience severe family distress and painful
bereavements. His wife, after a tedious
and protracted illness of thirteen months,
died in June 1630, in less than five years
after their marriage. Her children seem
to have been cut off before her, so that
Rutherford was left alone to lament his
loss. To add to his distress, he 'had been
seized~previously to the decease of his
wife-—with a fever which continued for
thirteen weeks, leaving him, on his recovery,
in such a state of debility as to suspend
for a time his attention to his pastoral
duties. Amid his accumulated sorrows,
however, he endured as seeing him who is
invisible, and knowing that in heaven he
had an everlasting portion, which no time,
no change, could destroy. And he derived
no small consolation from the kindness
and sympathy of lady Kenmure, the pious
wife of Gordon of Kenmure, who had been
recently raised to the peerage.
The intimacy which subsisted between
Rutherford and the Kenmure family had
been productive of much spiritual advan-
tage to both parties; and on his death-bed,
lord Kenmure appears to have been in-
debted, under the blessing of God, to this
devoted minister for the clear views of
divine truth which he was enabled to
entertain, and the striking testimony which
in his last moments he was privileged to
bear to the saving power and efficacy of
the gospel. Rutherford lamented the
death of his patron in an elegiac poem,
written in Latin; and in 1649 he pub-
lished, “ The Last and Heavenly Speeches,
and Glorious Departure of John Viscount
Kenmure;” a 'work in which the author
gives a detailed account of the conferences
which he held with that nobleman in re-

ference to his spiritual and everlasting
concerns. Rutherford now took a still
greater interest than ever in the spiritual
welfare of lady Kenmure ; and he con-
tinued to maintain a frequent correspond-
ence with her on religious subjects through-
out the whole of his life. One of the last
letters, indeed, he ever wrote, was to this
excellent lady. From the position which
Rutherford held, as the most influential
minister in the county within which he
resided, his correspondence on public mat-
ters was very extensive. The age in which
he lived was one of melancholy interest to
the Church of Scotland. The attempt,
first of James V]., and then of Charles I.,
to impose upon the Scottish Presbyterians
the yoke of episcopacy, had been uniformly
resisted, but with varied success; and though
at the period to which we now refer,
when Rutherford was located in Galloway,
prelacy was triumphant in the country,
yet he was well known to entertain
opinions decidedly in favour of presbytery.
And these sentiments, however opposite
to the then ascendant party, he was far
from concealing, but openly avowed them
whenever an opportunity of doing so oc--
curred. In any other individual than
Rutherford, probably, such conduct would
not have been tolerated. The high re-
spect, however, in which he was held by
men of all parties, and the tolerant spirit
of bishop Lamb, who then presided over the
diocese of Galloway, prevented him from
being subjected to the persecution which
would have otherwise fallen to his lot.
While thus permitted calmly to prosecute
his ministerial duties, he published a very
learned and elaborate work upon the
Arminian controversy. Rutherford’s sen-
timents were strictly Calvinistic, and the
ability and logical tact with which he
supported his own views, and refuted the
arguments of his opponents, soon estab-
lished his fame as a powerful controver-





SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
381




sialist and a sound divine. The estimation
in which he was held in the neighbour-
hood of Anwoth was truly gratifying; and
as a proof of it, we may mention that
when hIr Glendinning, minister of Kirk-
cudbright, had become unfit, from age and
infirmities, to discharge efficiently the
duties of his office, an application was
made to Rutherford to accept of the situa-
tion. This offer, however, he conscien-
tiously declined. “ Great solicitation,” says
he, “ is made by the town of Kirkcudbright,
for to have the use of my poor labours
among them. If the Lord shall call and
his people cry, Who am I to resist? But
without his seen calling, and till the flock
whom I now oversee, be planted with one
to whom I dare intrust Christ’s spouse,
gold nor silver, nor favour of men, I hope,
shall not loose me.”
Though thus unwilling to leave his
affectionate flock at Anwoth, his ministry
among them was, in the mysterious ar-
rangement of Providence, about to be
interrupted for a time. In consequence
of the death of bishop Lamb, in 1634,
Thomas Sydserff,if bishop of Brechin, a
man of Arminian principles, and of an
intolerant character, was translated to the
see of Galloway. N o sooner had the new
diocesan entered upon his office, than he
proceeded to adopt the most arbitrary and
unpopular measures. He erected a High
" Thomas Sydserff was in succession bishop of
Brechin, Galloway, and Orkney. He was son of
Sydserff of Ruchlaw, an ancient family of whom
one is a subscriber to Ragman’s Roll in 1296.
him.
Sydserff’s first appointnn-nt, as a clergyman, was i
to the college church in Edinburgh, having for his
colleague, Henry Rollock, nephew to the Princi-
pal; but he was deposed and excommunicated, by
the Assembly of Glasgow, in 1638, when bishop
of Galloway, for maintaining Arminianism, and
from a supposed leaning to popery. He then
withdrew to England, but was afterwards restored
by the government. and nominated to the see of
Orkney. He lived little more than a year after
his translation.—-il]urruy’s Lij}: of Rutherford.

Commission Court within his diocese,
composed exclusively of his own depend-
ents ; and, before this court were forthwith
summoned all who would not conform in
every respect to the demands of prelacy.
To Sydserff, the faithful pastor of Anwoth
was peculiarly obnoxious; and as soon as
possible, therefore, he was accused of non-
conformity before a High Commission
Court, held at \‘figtown in 1636, and
deprived of his ministerial oflice. The
bishop was anxious to have this sentence
confirmed by a court of the same kind
held at Edinburgh, and there accordingly
Rutherford was cited to appear, when, for
three days, accusations of the most ex-
travagant nature were preferred against
'With the undaunted fortitude of
conscious integrity, he replied to their
charges; but although the strongest in-
fluence was exerted in his behalf, and
although the evidence was insufficient to
convince any other than prejudiced minds,
I . u 0 Y_
'ndgment was given agaf'ft him. re
was deposed from the pastoral office, and
sentenced to be confined within the town
of Aberdeen, during the king’s pleasure.
The sentence passed upon this faithful
servant of Christ, severe and unjust though
it was, did not discourage him. He seems,
on the contrary, to have been able, like
the great apostle of the Gentiles, to “ glory
in tribulation.” “ I go to my King’s palace
at Aberdeen,” said he; “ tongue, and pen,
A short
period only being allotted him between
the passing of the sentence and the com-
and wit, cannot express my joy.”
iencement of his term of imprisonment,
he had no opportunity of returning to see
his friends in Galloway. On his journey
to “ Christ’s palace in Aberdeen,” as he
called it, he paid a visit to the Rev. David
Dickson. minister of Irvine a man of great
piety and learning, who afterwards filled,
with very high honour, the chair of theo-
logy in the college of Edinburgh. On



382
SCOTS WORTHIES.




entering the town which was appointed to
be the place of his imprisonment, Ruther-
ford was accompanied by a deputation of
his people from Anwoth, who had travelled
many miles to testify their sincere regard
for their devoted pastor, who was now
about to enjoy the exalted privilege of
being “ the Lord’s prisoner.” “ In the
world ye shall have tribulation, but in me
ye shall have peace.”
At this period, Aberdeen was the strong-
hold of episcopacy and Arminianism. The
most influential men, both clerical and lay,
were violently opposed to Presbytery; and
in these circumstances, Rutherford could
not be expected to feel much comfort or
happiness in their society. Gradually,
however, the inhabitants began to take an
interest in him as a persecuted servant of
God. Such, at length, was the attention
and kindness shown him by many respec-
table‘ citizens of the place, that he was
permitted to conduct religious services in
their families. Intelligence of this fact
soon reached the ears of the professors of
the University and the ministers of the city,
who thought it necessary to take steps for
the diminution, if possible, of his influence.
For this purpose, they denounced, from
the pulpit, presbyterian principles, and
challenged Rutherford to engage with them
in public disputations. But all was un-
availing; he became more popular and
influential than ever, and his opinions
spread among the people to an extent
which, to his enemies, was quite alarming.
In this dilemma, application was made to
the legislature to have him either confined
more strictly, or sent farther north than
Aberdeen, or banished from the kingdom
altogether?‘ The last expedient was
'ple.
adopted by the king, who despatched a
warrant to Scotland for the banishment of
Rutherford. With the greatest calmness
and composure he looked forward to the
prospect of banishment. “ W'hither I go,”
said he, “ I know not: but I am ready at
the Lord’s call.” The Lord, however, in
his providence interposed, and, by a train
of unexpected events, prevented the war-
rant from being ever carried into exe-
cution.
While imprisoned in Aberdeen, Ruther-
ford felt deeply for his attached flock at
Anwoth. Bishop Sydserff had attempted
to thrust in upon them a minister, who,
being both an episcopalian and an Ar-
minian, was violently opposed by the pee-
They still regarded their former pas-
tor as having been unjustly withdrawn
from them, and they longed and prayed,-
therefore, for his return. This happy
event, in the course of affairs, was at last
accomplished. '
It was during the struggle which presby-
terians successfully made at this period to
resist the innovations of prelacy, that
Rutherford quitted his imprisonment at
Aberdeen, and returned to the pastoral
charge of his flock at Anwoth.at As had
been judged necessary on former occasions
of trouble in the Church, it was now
deemed suitable by the presbyterians in
different parts of the country to renew the
National Covenant; and while this solemn
ceremony was carrying forward at Glasgow,
Rutherford preached in the High Church
of that city, having been requested by the
my silence, sorrow, sorrow, hath filled me: my harp
is banged up on the willow-trees, because I am in a
strange land.”—Murrag/’s Life of Rutherford.
At what particular date Rutherford left Aber-
deen, can be known only from inference It seems
to have been in the month of February, 1638, “six
quarters of ane yeir,” from the time of his banish-
ment, August 1636, at a period when the episco-
pal interest was nearly annihilated—162d.

His residence in Aberdeen was marked by
great mortification and sorrow, of which his “ dumb
Sabbaths” was one of the chief sources. “ My
silence on the Lord’s day,” he observes, “ keeps me
from being exalted above measure. 3y reason of
w __,_e



SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
383


inhabitants to preside, preparatory to their
subscribing that instrument.
In the General Assembly which was
convened at Glasgow on the 21st Novem-
ber, 1638, Rutherford, along with others
who had incurred the censures of the High
Commission Court, were called upon to ex-
plain the grounds on which they had been
accused; and, after due deliberation, a de-
cision was passed in favour of the perse~
outed ministers, and they were recognised
as members of court. At this Assembly,
one of the most memorable in the annals
of the Scottish Church, prelacy was abo-
lished, and the presbyterian constitution,
even in its minutest details, fully re-estab-
lished. The bishops were deprived of their
power, and the greater number of them
were excommunicated. In all the pro-
ceedings of this eventful period, Rutherford
took a lively interest, rejoicing in the
triumph of those principles which he had
so long and so consistently advocated, and
for which he had endured so many and
severe privations. _
Shortly after the meeting of the Glasgow
Assembly, an application was made by the
city of Edinburgh to the Assembly’s Com-
mission, to have Rutherford transferred
from Anwoth to the metropolis, that he
might have the opportunity of exercising
his talents in a more important and exten-
sive sphere. Another application, how-
ever, was made to have him appointed
professor of divinity in the new college, St
Andrews. The Commission preferred the
latter situation. Petitions against his re-
moval were presented from the county of
Galloway, and from the parishioners of
Anwoth, and he himself urged, in a re-
spectful petition, his “ bodily weakness and
mental incapacity.” All was unavailing;
the interests of the church demanded his
appointment, and the Commission therefore
ordained that he should occupy a chair for
which he was considered as pre-eminently

qualified. He still, however, entertained
hopes that the Assembly, at its next meet-
ing, would refuse to confirm the decision
of the Commission. In this, however, he
was disappointed, and nothing remained
for him but to submit calmly to his re-
moval from his beloved people. The office
which Rutherford was now called to occupy
was one of the most useful and highly
honourable to which he could have been
promoted. He felt the responsibility con-
nected with its duties; but after the deep
distress he had experienced at Aberdeen
on account of his “silent Sabbaths,” he
could not bear the thought of being de-
prived of the privilege of publicly proclaim-
ing the gospel of Christ. On his earnest
application, therefore, to the Assembly, they
yielded to his wishes on this point, and ap-
pointed him colleague to Mr Robert Blair,
who had been recently translated from Ayr,
to be one of the ministers of the town of
St Andrews.
A few months subsequent to his trans-
lation to St Andrews, Rutherford entered
a second time into the marriage relation,
after a widowhood of nearly ten years.
Having thus made provision for his domes-
tic comfort, he continued to discharge his
public duties, both in teaching and preach--
ing, with unwearied assiduity and consci-
entiousness. For some time his situation
was one of peculiar happiness and tran—
quillity; and it would have continued so,
had not both he and ‘his colleague felt
themselves called upon to join their bre-
thren in resisting the wishes of their peo-
ple, who were exceedingly desirous that
Mr Andrew Affleck, the minister of Largo,
should be chosen one of the ministers of
St Andrews. The people, being disap-
pointed of their object, began to cool in
their attachment both to Rutherford and
Blair, who, feeling that their usefulness
would be injured by this alienation of the
affections of their flock, applied to the


384
SCOTS WORTHIES.



' gOl/V.

Assembly for an act of transportability, as
it was called, or the privilege of accepting
a call to another charge, if such a call
should be given them. The request was
granted, and in a few weeks Rutherford
was invited to become minister of West
Calder, in the presbytery of Linlith-
This call he gladly accepted, and his
acceptance was ratified by the supreme
court; but in consequence of the resistance
of the university of St Andrews, the matter
was prosecuted no further, and he still re-
mained both in his professorship and min-
isterial charge.
In the public concerns of the church and
the country Rutherford was deeply inter-
ested. Himself a conscientious admirer of
Presbytery, he rejoiced in the complete
establishment of the system in Scotland,
and the increasing attachment to it which
was manifested in England. To his prin-
ciples he firmly adhered; and such was the
confidence reposed in him by his brethren,
that he was appointed by the Assemblyione
of the Scots Commissioners to the General
Assembly of Divines, held at Viiestminster.
()n this important mission he remained in
London four years, and by his talents and
learning proved no small acquisition to the
venerable Synod. In their discussions he
and his fellow-commissioners took an am-
ple share; and the result of their important
deliberations was both gratifying to him-
self personally, and satisfactory to those
over whose interests he had been deputed
to watch. In drawing up the Directory
for Public Worship, the Confession of
Faith, the Larger and Shorter Catechisms,
and the Form of Church Government,
Rutherford was actively employed along
with the other members of the Synod.
While in London, however, he did not
limit his labours to the business of the
Synod of Divines; he was also engaged
in the preparation of various controversial
as Well as practical works, of a. theological


kind, which he published during that period.
The only publication, not strictly in accord—
ance with his profession as a divine, which
he produced on this occasion, was one en-
titled “ Lex, ReX,”——The Law and the King
——which was intended as a reply to a book
which had been published in support of
absolute monarchy. Though thus busily
occupied, however, he longed to return to
his important duties at St Andrews, and
the more so as his own declining health,
as well as that of his wife, seemed to call
for a removal to his native country. His
distress, besides, had been still farther ag-
gravated by the death of two of his chil-
dren, in addition to two which he had lost
a short time before leaving Scotland. In
these circumstances he had made frequent
applications to be released from his attend-
ance in London. But, for a considerable
time, it was not deemed expedient to com-
ply with his request,—his presence at the
Westminster Assembly being regarded as
too important to be dispensed with. At
length, however, the Assembly of 1647
permitted him to return home.
The able and efficient manner in which
Rutherford discharged the high trust re-
posed in him, as one of the Commissioners
to the Synod of Divines at Westminster,
raised him higher than ever in the estima-
tion of his countrymen; and accordingly,
a few months after he had resumed his
duties at St Andrews, he was appointed
principal of the New College. The hon-
our thus conferred on him brought him
very little, if any, additional labour; it was
a gratifying proof to him, however, that his
merits, both as an author and a divine,
were duly appreciated. In 1649, an attempt
was made in the General Assembly to pro-
cure his transference to the Divinity Chair
at Edinburgh; but this intention, as Baillie
states, being “thought absurd,” was laid
aside. About the same time a university
having been established at Harderwyck, in



SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
385





._~__.—___—_ i_.__ __> _._..__.. .__._
Holland, he was invited to occupy the chair
of Divinity and Hebrew in that seminary.
This invitation, as well as a similar
application shortly after from Utrecht, he
respectfully declined—being unwilling to
abandon the Church of Scotland, at a
period when his services were so much
required.
In prosecuting his laborious engage-
ments at St Andrews, he still found time
to publish several important works. The
year after his return from London he pro-
duced a controversial work against the
Antinomians, and in the year following, a
Treatise in reply to Jeremy Taylor’s
“ Liberty of Prophesying.” In 1651, ap-
peared his large work “ On Providence,”
in opposition to the Jesuits, the Arminians,
and the Socinians.
At this period, in consequence of the
death of Charles I., who, though he had
been obliged to make concessions, was still
at heart the inveterate enemy of Presby-
tery, considerable fears were entertained
by the Scottish people, that under the
government of his son, who, it was thought,
would succeed him, their ecclesiastical
privileges mightbe again aljiridged. Charles
II. was crowned at Scone ; and in passing
through Fifeshire, befbre his coronation,
the young king visited St Andrews, when
Rutlmrford delivered before him an oration
in Latin, dwelling chiefly upon the duty of
kings. In the meantime, however, the
Indepelnlents had acquired the ascendancy,
and England had become a republic. The
events which followed during the usurpa-
tion of Cromwell, and onward to the Re-
storation, it is impossible in our limited
space minutely to detail. Suffice it to say
that in the proceedings of that stormy
period Rutherford acted a.very conspicu-
ous part ; and from the unflinching tenacity
with which he maintained the opinions he .
i to be confined to his own house ; and cited
had adopted, he was regarded by many of
his brethren, more especially of the pres-
__/--
ibytery of St Andrews and the Synod of‘
Fife, as actuated too strongly by party-
spirit.
Amid all the commotions, however, in
which he found himself involved, he pub-
lished several valuable works on practical
theology, as well as some productions of
a controversial nature. The last work, of
which he lived to superintend the publica-
tion, appeared in 1659, under the title of
“ Influences of the life of Grace.” With
this piece of practical theology terminated
the literary labours of a most erudite divine
and accomplished scholar.
Though the life of Rutherford was now
verging to its close, he lived long enough
to see the commencement of one of the
darkest periods in Scotland’s ecclesiastical,
and even her civil history. No sooner had
the Second Charles been restored to his
kingdom, than steps were taken for the
overthrow of Presbytery in his northern
dominions. This design he was not long
in finding means of accomplishing, and that
too in a quarter where it might have been
least of all expected. The Scottish parlia-
ment, which convened on the 1st of Janu-
ary 1661, invested the king with arbitrary
power, recalled the Covenant, and abolished
Presbytery; and by one deed, “ the Act
Rescissory,” as it was termed, they annulled
the decrees of all the parliaments which
since 1638 had sanctioned the presbyterian
system, or ratified the Solemn League and
Covenant.
In such a state of things Rutherford
could not expect to escape persecution in
one shape or other. His work which he
had published when in London, called
“ Lex, Rex,” was ordered to be burnt by
the hands of the common hangman; he
was deprived of his oflices both in the
University and the Church; his stipend
was confiscated; he himself was ordered
to appear before thegensuing parliament ona
' O

__.
386
SCOTS WORTHIES.






charge of treason. Thus far they were
permitted to harass this eminent servant
of God; but their power could extend no
further. His health, which had been
rapidly declining, was now such, that he
was quite incapable of obeying the citation
to appear before the Parliament.
Knowing well that death could not be
far distant, he proceeded to arrange all his
affairs, that he might leave nothing undone
which his friends or the Church expected
from him. In his last sickness he bore
ample testimony to the saving efficacy of
that gospel which it had been always his
delight to preach, and on the 19th of
March, 1661, he yielded up his breath,
about five o’clock in the morning, as he
himself had foretold?‘


[Monument to the memory of Rutherfordj
' On the 28th of April, 1842, the foundation-
stone of a colossal monument, called the “ Ruther-
ford Monument." was laid to the memory of this

TESTIMONY
OF
SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
“ Though the Lord needeth not a testi-
mony fiiom such a wretched man as I, and
if all the world should be silent, the very
stones would cry, it is more than debt, that
I should confess Christ before men and
angels. It would satisfy me not a little,
that the throne of the Lord Jesus were
exalted above the clouds, the heaven of
heavens, and on both sides of the sun ; and
that all possible praise and glory were
ascribed to him: that, by his grace, I might
put my seal, such as it is, unto that song,
even the new song of these, who with a
loud voice sing, ‘ Thou art worthy to take
the book, and to open the seals thereof:
for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us
to God by thy blood, out of every kindred,
and tongue, and people, and nation, and hast
made us unto our God kings and priests:
and we shall reign upon the earth.’ And
blessed were I, could I lay to my ear of
faith, and say, Amen, to the Psalm ‘ of the
many angels round about the throne, and
the beasts and elders, whose number is ten
thousand times ten thousand, and thousands
of thousands, saying, with a loud voice,
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to re-
ceive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and bless-
ing ;’ and if I heard ‘ every creature, which
is in heaven, and on the earth, and under
the earth; and such as are in the sea ; and all
7 about half a mile from Gatehouse.
excellent man. It is erected on the farm of Bore-
land, in the parish of Anwoth, about half a mile
from where Rutherford used to preach, and about
the same distance‘from the Bush of Bield, where
his manse was. The site is upon an eminence,
The monu-
ment is of granite ; height, from the surface to the
apex, 60 feet; square of the pedestal, 7 feet, with
three rows of steps._~See Cut.





SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
387



that are in them (as John heard them),
saying, Blessing, and honour, and glory,
and power, be unto him that sitteth upon
the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever
and ever.’ I mean not any such visible
reign as the millenarians fancy. I believe
(Lord help my unbelief,) the doctrine of
the holy prophets and the apostles of our
Lord Jesus Christ, contained in the books
of the Old and New Testament, to be the
undoubted truth of God, and a perfect rule
of faith, and the only way of salvation.
And I do acknowledge the sum of the
Christian religion, exhibited in the Con-
fessions and Catechisms of the reformed
protestant churches; and in the National
Covenant, divers times sworn by the king’s
majesty, the state and Church of Scotland,
and sealed by the testimony and subscrip-
tions of the nobles, barons, gentlemen,
citizens, ministers, ‘and professors of all
ranks: as also in the Solemn League and
Covenant, in the three kingdoms of Scot-
land, England, and Ireland. And I do
judge, and in conscience believe, that no
power on earth can absolve and liberate
the people of God from the bonds and
sacred ties of the oath of God.
“ Since we are very shortly to appear
before our dreadful Master and Sovereign,
we cannot pass from our protestation,
trusting we are therein accepted of him;
-—though we should lie under the imputa-
tion of dividing spirits, and unpeaceable
men. We acknowledge all due obedience,
in the Lord, to the king’s majesty; but we
disown that ecclesiastic supremacy, in
and over the church, which some ascribe
to him; that power of commanding external
worship not appointed in the word; and
laying bonds upon the consciences of men,
where Christ has made them free. We
disown antichristian prelacy, bowing at the
name of Jesus, saints’ days, canonizing of
the dead, and other such corrupt inven-
tions of men, and look on them as the high-
‘A
way to popery. Alas! now there is no need
of a spirit of prophecy to declare what
shall be the woful condition of a land that
hath broken covenant, first practically,
and then legally, with the Lord our God:
and what shall be the day of the silent and
dumb watchmen of Scotland? Where
Christ depart out of our land? We verily
judge, they are most loyal to the king’s
majesty, who desire the dross may be
separated from the silver, and the throne
established in righteousness and judgment.
We are not (our witness is in heaven,)
against his majesty’s title by birth to the
kingdom, and the right of the royal family:
but that the controversy of wrath against
the royal family may be removed; that
the huge guilt of the throne may be
mourned for before the Lord; and that his
majesty may stand constantly, all the days
of his life, to the covenant of God, by oath,
seal, and subscription, known to the world;
that so peace and the blessings of heaven
may follow his government; that the Lord
may be his rock and shield; that the just
may flourish in his time; that men fearing
God, hating covetousness, and of known
integrity and godliness, may be judges
and rulers under his majesty—and they
are not really loyal and faithful to the
supreme magistrate, who wish not such
qualifications in him. \Ve are not, in this


particular, contending that a prince, who
is not a convert or a sound believer, falls
from his royal dominion; the scriptures of
God warrant us to pray for and obey, in
the Lord, princes and supreme magistrates,
that are otherwise wicked; and to render
all due obedience to them. Our souls
should be afflicted before the Lord, for the
burning of the ‘ Causes of God’s Wrath.’
In these controversies, we should take
special heed to this, that Christ is a free,
independent Sovereign, King, and Law-

giver The Father hath appointed him

will we leave our glory? and what if

388
SCOTS WORTHIES.



his own King in mount Zion; and he
cannot endure, that the powers of the
world should encroach upon his royal
prerogatives, and prescribe laws to him:
this presumption is not far from that of
citizens that hated him, ‘ He shall not rule
over us ;’ and from the intolerable pride of
those who are for breaking asunder the
bands of the Lord, and his Anointed, and
for casting away their cords from them,
especially seeing the man Christ would
not take the office of a judge upon him—
and discharged his disciples to exercise a
civil lordship over their brethren. True
it is, the godly magistrate may command
the ministers of the gospel to do their duty,
but not under the pain of ecclesiastic
censure, as if it were proper for him to
call and uncall, depose and suspend from
the holy ministry. The lordly spiritual
government in and over the church,
is given unto Christ, and none else: he
is the sole ecclesiastic lawgiver. It
is proper to him to smite with the rod
of his mouth; nor is there any other
shoulder, in heaven or on earth, that is
able to bear the government. As this hath
been the great controversy betwixt our
Lord Jesus and the powers of the world
from the beginning, so it has ruined all
that coped with him. Christ has proved
a rock of offence to them; they have been
dashed to pieces by the stone that was cut
out of the mountain without hands. And
the other powers that enter the lists with
him shall have the same dismal exit.
‘ VVhosoever shall fall on this stone shall
be broken; and on whomsoever it shall
fall it shall grind him to powder.’ As the
blessed prophets and apostles of our Lord
contended not a little with the rulers of
the earth, that Christ should be head
corner-stone: that Christ is the only head
of the church, is as sure, as that he died,

was buried, and rose again. It is a most
victorious and prevailing truth, not only
preached and attested by the ambassadors
of the Lord of hosts, but confirmed by
blood, martyrdom, and suffering. Many
precious saints have thought it their hon-
our and dignity to suffer shame and
reproach for the name of Jesus; and it is
beyond doubt, that passive suffering for
the precious name of Christ comes nearest
to that noble sampler, wherein Christ,
though a son, learned obedience by the
things which he suffered. We cannot but
say, it is a sad time to our land at present ;
it is a day of darkness, and rebuke, and
blasphemy. The Lord hath covered him-
self with a cloud in his anger; we looked
for peace, but behold evil: our souls re-
joiced when his majesty did swear the
covenant of God, and put thereto his seal
and subscription; and therefore confirmed
it by his royal promise. So that the sub-
jects’ hearts blessed the Lord, and rested
upon the healing word of a prince. But
now, alas! the contrary is enacted by law,
the carved work is broken down, ordinances
are defaced, and we are brought into the
former bondage and chaos of prelatical con-
fusions. The royal prerogative of Christ
is pulled from his head, and, after all the
days of sorrow we have seen, we have just
cause to fear we shall be made to read and
eat that book, wherein is written mourn-
ing, and lamentation, and W0. Yet we are
to believe Christ will not so depart from
the land, but a remnant shall be saved;
and he shall reign a victorious conquering
king to the ends of the earth. 0 that
there were nations, kindreds, tongues, and
all the people of Christ’s habitable world,
encompassing his throne with cries and tears
for the spirit of supplication, to be poured
down upon the inhabitants of Judah for
that effect.”






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MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
389





ARGHIBALD CAMPBELL, MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
FROM his early years this illustrious noble--
1
man was Warmly attached to the presby-.
terian interest, and, during the whole of
a laborious and useful life spent in the ser- 1
vice of both church and state, he adhered
firmly to his principles, until by the tyranny
and treachery of Charles I., he was hon-
l
l
oured with the crown of martyrdom. When '
the excellent Rutherford was brought
before the High Commission Court for
nonconformity, in 1638, Argyle interposed
in his behalf; and through his intercession,
also, with the bishop of Galloway, the
worthy Earlston was released from the‘
sentence of banishment to which he had
been condemned for the same cause.
No sooner did the Reformation, com-
l
highly honoured by the countenance that
had been given to their deliberations by
the noble lord, regretting that his lordship
had not joined them sooner; but express-
ing a hope, at the same time, that God had
reserved him for the best times, and would
honour him both here and hereafter.
Argyle remarked in reply, that the delay
had not proceeded from any want of affec-
tion to the prosperity of religion, and the
welfare of the country, but from a desire
and hope that by staying with the court, he
might have been able to bring about a re-
dress of grievances. Seeing, however, that
this could no longer be done without prov-
ing unfaithful to God and his country, he
had resolved to do as he had done, and
monly called the Second Reformation,begin cast in his lot among the brethren.
to dawn, in 1637, than Argyle, though a
privy counsellor, attended all the sittings
In 1639, when the Covenanters were
forced to take up arms in their own de-
of the memorable General Assembly held l fence, and march toward the borders of
at Glasgow, in order to hear the debates
concerning diocesan episcopacy, and the
five Articles of Perth, and after the most
patient attention, declared himself fully
satisfied with all their decisions. From
that period this noble peer began to dis—
tinguish himself by a concern for the Re-
deemer’s cause and interest, to which he‘
ever afterward continued faithful.
At that Assembly, his lordship, among

England, under General Leslie, Argyle,
being sent to guard the WVestern coast, con-
tributed much by his activity and prudence
to preserve peace in that quarter. He not
only convened the country gentlemen, and
bound them under security for that purpose;
but raised and maintained, at his own
charges, 400 men in the county of Argyle,
. whom he afterwards augmented to 900.
other things, proposed an explanation of l
the Confession and Covenant, in which he
wished the members to proceed with great
deliberation, lest any should be brought
under suspicion of perjury, who might have '
sworn in the same sense as he himself had
done. This motion was taken in good
part; and, at the breaking up of the As-
sembly, Mr Henderson, the Moderator,
observed, that the Assembly felt themselves
\Vith half of this smallband he marched into
Kintyre to watch the movements of the
marquis of Antrim, and despatched the
remainder to the head of Lorn, to look
after Lochaber, and the Western isles; from
whence he himself set out for Arran with a
few pieces of artillery, and took possession
of the castle of Brodick, which surrendered
without resistance.
In the absence of the covenanting army,
in 1640, he was again appointed to the



390
SCOTS WORTHIES.


same command, which he conducted no less
successfully; taking prisoners eight or nine
of the ringleaders of the malignant faction,
whom he obliged to give bond for their
better behaviour, for time to come. By
these proceedings Argyle provoked the
malice both of his own and the church’s
enemies, who from that time sought every
opportunity to do him injury; and it was
not long until the earl of Montrose
took occasion to do so. Upon a certain
occurrence, he publicly gave out that
Argyle—when in company with the earl of
Athol, and the other eight gentlemen who
had been made prisoners by him the year
before, for carrying arms against their
country—had said before them all :—
“ That the parliament had consulted law-
yers anent deposing the king, and had re-
ceived for answer, that that might be done
for three reasons; viz., desertz'on; invasion;
and vendz'tion; and that they once thought
to have done it last session; but would cer-
tainly do it at the next.” Mont-rose found
a ready tool in James Stuart, commissary
of Dunkeld, who at once subscribed to the
veracity of the report; but Argyle declared
his innocence, and immediately raised an
action for falsehood against Stuart before
the court of J usticiary. To avoid the
sentence that would have followed upon
his conviction, Stuart wrote to the earl,
acquitting him of the charge, and acknow-
ledging that he had fabricated the whole
out of malice. Although Argyle’s inno--
cence was thus established, the court,
nevertheless, thought it proper to proceed
with the trial; and, the fact having been
clearly proved against Stuart, sentence of
death was pronounced against him; which
awful punishment he underwent, expressing
the deepest penitence and remorse for what
he had done.
About the same time Charles, having
quarrelled with his English parliament,
revisited Scotland. To ingratiate him-

self anew with the nation, he attended
the Scots parliament, and not only rati-
fied all their procedure, both in their
own defence, and in behalf of the national
religion, but even elevated several of the
nobles to higher titles of honour. Argyle
was made first lord of the treasury;
and, after acknowledging his great public
services, the king, on the 15th November.
1641, delivered a patent to the lord Lyon
King at Arms, who read it aloud, proclaim-
ing his lordship “ Marquis of Argyle, Earl
of Kintyre, Lord Lorn,” &c., which, having
been finished, it was handed back to the
king. Charles then with his own hands
delivered it to Argyle, and was the first to
salute him by his new title of Marquis.
Not deficient in court etiquette, Argyle, in a
very handsome speech, thanked his majesty
for the honour he had conferred upon him,
and assured his sovereign that he had
raised him to a rank which he neither
expected nor merited.
While parliament was still sitting, an-
other plot, of a more deadly nature, was
laid against the marquises of Hamilton and
Argyle by a few of the nobility, who felt
themselves piqued at the power, preferment,
and influence, which these noblemen now
had with the king. The chief actors in
the conspiracy were the earl of Crawford,
colonel Cochran, and lieutenant Alexander
Stuart—nay it was insinuated that Charles
himself was an accessory before the fact—
and the agreement was that Hamilton and
Argyle should be called for in the dead of
the night to speak with the king. By the
way they were to be arrested as traitors
and handed over to earl Crawford, who
was to be in waiting with a sufficient body
of men : and it had been further concerted,
that if any resistance was offered, the earl
was to stab them at once ; but if not, they
were to be conveyed prisoners of war to a
vessel in Leith Roads, where they were to
be confined until they could be conveniently




.d
MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
391



tried for treason. The plot, however, hav-
ing been divulged prematurely, both of the
noblemen, by the good providence of God,
escaped the night previous, to a place of
security about twelve miles distant. It
tends not a little to strengthen the belief
of the king’s concurrence, that the whole
of the conspirators were pardoned, merely
upon their own petition.
In 1643 and the year following, the
marquis was very actively engaged in for-~
warding the work of Reformation; but
while he was thus occupied, Montrose and
some others of the royal party, having as-
sociated for the purpose of raising troops
for the king, thought thereby to divert
Argyle’s attention fi~om the good work.
Their intention was to oblige him to with
draw the Scottish forces from England, by
making predatory incursions into the
county of Argyle, which the earl of Antrim
had undertaken to do, by sending over from
Ireland a body of 10,000 men, under the
command of one M‘Donald, a Scotsman.
A considerable army was accordingly sent,
who committed many frightful ravages.
To repel the invaders, therefore, the Com-
mittee of Estates ordered the marquis to
raise three regiments of foot, and march
northward without delay, which he very
soon effected, taking a number of their
principal chiefs prisoners, and dispersing
the rest. Montrose, however, was still on
the field, plundering and laying waste all
over Argyleshire, and other places belong-
ing to the Covenanters; and, although he
was finally defeated by general Leslie, at
Philiphaugh, yet M‘Donald and his Irish
barbarians returned in 1646, and burned
and plundered the dwellings of the well-
affected, to such an extent, that about 1200
of the ejected and houseless inhabitants
assembled in a body under Acknalase, who
brought them down to Monteith to live
upon the disaffected in that part of the
country. On their way thither, however,

_
the men of Athol attacked them at Callen-
der; and, being but poorly armed, a con-
siderable number of them were slain. The
rest made the best of their way to Stirling,
where they were met by Argyle, who,
commiserating their deplorable condition,
led them into Dumbartonshire to live upon
lord Napier, and others of the disaffected,
till they should be better provided for. In
the mean time he himself went over to
Ireland, and, bringing home the remainder
of the Scots forces, landed with them in
Argyleshire. M‘Donald betook himself to
the Isles, and from thence to Ireland,
which put an end to hostilities in that part
of the country.
In 1648, when the state became divided
into two factions, the malignants were
headed by the marquis of Hamilton, and
the Covenanters were under the direction
of Argyle. It may therefore be with
safety concluded, that from the year 1643,
the marquis was actively employed in pro-
moting the civil and religious liberties of
his country; and it is well known from
what took place in 16él9,—-from the in-
fluence he had acquired in parliament, and
from the successful measures he had used
in restoring Charles II. to his throne and
regal authority, that the affairs of the na—
tion went on pretty smoothly, so long as
the king continued to act upon his advice.
N o sooner, however, did the weak monarch
transfer his favours to the opposite party,
and install their nobles into places of power
and trust, than the country became again
one vast scene of confusion and bloodshed,
which preyed very heavily upon the mind
of the worthy Argyle. Charles at the
same time pretended a great deal of regard
for the marquis ; but how he performed the
promises contained in the following letter,
may be judged from the resentment he
indulged ever after the marquis had the
christian magnanimity to reprove him for
his immoralities.


392
SCOTS WORTHIES.



This masterpiece of duplicity appears\
to have been written from St Johnston
(Perth), September 24th, 1650, and is as
follows :-—“ Having taken into my consid-
eration the faithful endeavours of the mar-
quis of Argyle for restoring me to my just
rights, I am desirous to let the world see
how sensible I am of his real respect to
me, by some particular favour to him.
And particularly 1 do promise that I shall
make him Duke of Argyle, a knight of the
garter, and one of the gentlemen of my
bedchamber, and this to be performed
when he shall think fit. I do further pro-
mise to hearken to his counsel, whenever
it shall please God to restore me to my
just rights in England. I shall see him
paid the 410,000 pounds sterling which are
due to him. All which I do promise to
make good upon the word of a king.”
“ C. R.”
Charles was crowned at Scone on the
1st January, 1651, and the crown was
placed on his head by the marquis. After
prayer by Mr Douglas, he was installed
into the royal throne by the marquis also.
For a time, too, the Usurper’s forces were
victorious in several engagements, and
the king could no longer continue in Scot-
land with safety. He was therefore, after
Cromwell’s success at Dunbar, obliged to
return to England, leaving the marquis at
Stirling. On the 3d of September follow-
ing, his army having been completely rout-
' ed at Worcester, the English overran the
whole country; and the national represen-
tatives were forced either to succumb to
Cromwell, or run the risk of enduring se-
vere hardships. This submission Argyle had
refused at Dumbarton, and therefore the
Usurper’s army marched into Argyleshire,
and other parts of the Highlands. Whilst
Argyle was confined at Inverary by indis-
position, one of Cromwell’s officers—major
Dean—walked into the room and pre-
sented a paper, informing the marquis that

if he did not subscribe the same before the
following day, he would be carried off
prisoner. For several reasons, but parti-
cularly for his own and his tenants’ safety,
Argyle most reluctantly adhibited his sig-
nature. From the date of this circum-
stance may be traced the commencement
of those sufferings which brought the
marquis to the scaffold.
In the year 1660, soon after the king’s
restoration, Argyle set out for London,
whither he arrived on the 8th of July,
and without delay proceeded to Whitehall,
anxious to pay his respects to a prince on
whose head he had placed the crown, and
in whose presence he might vindicate him-
self from many foul aspersions which had
been very industriously conveyed to
the royal ear. No sooner had Charles
heard of Argyle’s arrival, than, forgetting
all his debts of gratitude, and former fair
promises, he caused his lordship to be ap-
prehended and conveyed to the Tower,
where he was detained till the month of
December, and then sent down to Scot-
land, in a ship of war, to abide his trial
before parliament. On the 2()th,the vessel
arrived at Leith ; and, next day, the marquis
was marched along the streets of Edin-
burgh betwixt two of the town bailies, and
lodged in the castle.
On the 13th of February following,
Argyle was brought down from the castle
in a coach, attended by three of the
magistrates, and the town guard, and
presented at the bar of the house; when
Sir John Fletcher, the king’s advocate,
accused him in common form, of high
an indictment, and
Before this
should be done, Argyle asked permission
to speak; but was refused. The indict—
ment contained fourteen counts ; the prin-
treason, producing
craving that it might be read.
eipal of which were :-—“ his entering into
the Solemn League and Covenant with
England; and his submission to Oliver



MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
393



Cromwell.” After it had been read over,
however, he was permitted to address the
house, which he did with great effect,‘
declaring that he had, consistently with
his solemn oath and covenant, served his
God, his king, and his country; and that
not one of the accusations brought against
him could be proved. It was to no pur-
pose that he thus pleaded, because the
parliament were determined to bring him
in guilty; and therefore he was ordered to
enter upon his defence on the 27th of the
same month. At his special request, how-
ever, it was deferred until the 5th of
March. On that day he delivered a most
affecting speech before the lords of ar-
ticles, and gave in a petition, recommend-
ing himself to the king’s mercy, and en-
treating the parliament to intercede for
him.
He was again brought before the parlia-
ment upon the 16th; but all that either
he or his counsel could say had no weight
with the members. In the beginning of
May, witnesses were examined against him;
and on the 25th he was brought to the bar
of the house to receive sentence from his
judges, which was to the following effect:
—“ That he was found guilty of high trea-
son, and adjudged to be executed as a
traitor—his head to be severed from his
body at the cross of Edinburgh, upon
Monday the 27th, and affixed on the same
place where the marquis of Montrose’s
head had formerly been, and his arms torn
lvefore the parliament at the cross.” At
this awful crisis Argyle offered to speak;
but the trumpets beginning to sound, he
waited till they had finished, and then
saith—“I had the honour to place the
crown on the king’s head; and now he
hastens me to a better crown than his



l
l
l
l
l
_' share in that; but you cannot hinder me
E from the indemnity of the King of kings;
and shortly you must be before his tribunal.
I pray he mete not out such measure to
you as you have done to me, when you are
called to an account for all your actings,
and this amongst the rest!”
After sentence he was conveyed to the
common prison, where his lady was wait-
ing for him,—-upon seeing whom he said,—
“ They have given me till Monday to be
with you, my dear, therefore let us make
for it.” The marchioness wept bitterly,
and said twice,——“ The Lord will require
it,” which drew tears from all present.
“ F orbear,” said the marquis, “forbear! I
pity them, they know not what they are
doing,—-they may shut me in where they
please ; but they cannot shut God out from
me. I am as content to be here, as in the
castle, and as content there as in the Tower
of London, and as content in the Tower
as when at liberty,”——and added, that he
remembered a passage of scripture quoted
by an honest minister to him while in the
castle, which he intended to put in prac-
tice,—~“When Ziklag was taken and burnt,
the people spake of stoning David; but he
encouraged himself in the Lord.”
During the short interval between his
sentence and execution, he maintained the
greatest serenity and cheerfulness, con-
versing pleasantly with several ministers
who were permitted to visit him. The
night before his execution he slept calmly;
and on Monday morning, though much
engaged in settling his affairs in the midst
of company, he had at intervals much
spiritual conversation, and was so over-
powered by a sensible effusion of the Holy
Spirit, that on one occasion he broke out
into a rapturous exclamation :-—“ I thought
own !” After which, addressing himself to , to have Concealed th€ LOW-17$ goodness.
the speaker and members, he said :-—“You but it will not do. I am now ordering my
have the indemnity of an earthly king l affairs, and God is sealing my charter to
among your hands, and have denied me a l a better inheritancagagd just now saying

l
394
SCOTS WORTHIES.






to me,-—‘ Son, be of good cheer, thy sins
are forgiven thee.’ ”
Before going to the place of execution,
he dined precisely at noon with a number
of his friends, displaying great cheerful-
ness; after which he retired for a little.
Upon his return, he said the Lord had
again confirmed his promise, and said to
him from heaven,—“ Thy sins be forgiven
thee!” Every countenance was suffiised
with tears but his own; but being at
length overcome, they began to flow very
copiously, when he said to Mr George
Hutcheson,—“ I think His kindness ever-
comes me; but God is good, that He does
not let out too much of it here, for Icould
not bear it. Get me my cloak, and let us
go.”-—-Being told that the clock was kept
back till one, till the bailies should come,
he said, “They are far wrong,” and im-
mediately kneeled down and prayed before
all present, in a very moving and heavenly
strain. Scarcely had he finished, when
the bailies sent for him. Calling for a
glass of wine before he went, he continued
standing in the same frame of mind, and
having asked a blessing upon it, he said,
“ Now let us go, and God be with us !”
Having taken leave of all who were not
to accompany him, he said when going,
——“ I could die like a Roman, but choose
rather to die like a Christian!” As he
went down stairs, he called Mr Guthrie to
him, and, after embracing him most ten-
derly, bade him farewell. “ My Lord,”
said Mr Guthrie, “ God hath been with
you of a truth; He is with you, and will
be with you. Such is my respect for your
lordship, that if I were not under sentence
of death myself, I would cheerfully die for
your lordship!” Thus parted these two
martyrs on earth, to meet in heaven on
the Friday following.
Argyle ascended the scaffold with an
air of perfect serenity, and saluted all who
were present. Mr Hutcheson prayed, after

which the Marquis addressed the specta-
tors. When he had finished, Mr Hamilton
prayed, followed by Argyle himself; after
which he prepared for the closing scene.
To the executioner he gave a napkin con-
taining some money; to his sons-in-law,
Caithness and Ker, his watch and some
other things; to the earl of London his silver
pencase; and to Lothian a double ducat, and
then threw off his coat. When going to the
“ Maiden,”F Mr Hutcheson desired him
to hold his “grip sicker,” to which. he re-
plied, “ I am not afraid to be surprised
with fear!” The laird of Skelmorlie took
hold of his hand, and found it perfectly
steady. Then kneeling down with a sweet
and solemn composure, after having prayed
for a few moments, he gave the signal by
lifting up one of his hands, and the Maiden
instantly severed his head from his body.
His head was afterwards fixed on the west
end of the tolbooth, as a monument of the
parliament’s injustice, the king’s infidelity,
and Scotland’s misery. The body was
afterwards deposited in the family vault at
Kilmun.
Thus died the marquis of Argyle, the
first martyr to presbyterianism since the
reformation from popery. All his biogra-
* The Maiden, the instrument used at the exe.
eution of the Marquis of Argyle, is very similar to
the guillotine; and, as we learn from Hume of
Godscroft, was made at the instance of James,
Earl of Morton, “ after the pattern of one he had
seen in HalifaX,”—a description of which, with an
engraving of the “Halifax gibbet,” (differing slightly
from that of the Maiden given in the opposite page)
may be found in Hone’s Every Day Book, vol. i. col.
145. It is also said by Pennicuik, in his description
of Tweeddale, that “this fatal instrument, at least
the pattern thereof, the cruel regent [Morton] had
brought from abroad to behead the laird of Penne~
cuik of that ilk, who notwithstanding died in his
bed; and the unfortunate earl was the first that
handselled that merciless Maiden, who proved, so
soon after, his own executioner,” June 158] . This
circumstance may have given rise to the proverb
preserved in Kelley’s Collection, p. 140, “ He that
invented the Maiden, first handselled it.”


MAnortis or ARGYLE. 395



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['l‘he Maiden]
phers agree that he was a man of extraor-
dinary piety, remarkable wisdom and pru-
dence, and singular usefulness. In the T E S TIM O N Y
great work of the Reformation he was the m,
prime agent; and when a large portion
of the nation yielded to the emergency, he
stood almost alone, and never deserted the
cause until he moistened with his blood
the tree which his own hands had planted. "‘ ;l'lany Will expect that I speak many
In a word, says a learned writer, “ He things, and according to their several
had piety for a christian; sense for a opinions and dispositions, so will their
counsellor, carriage for a martyr, and expectations be from me, and constructions
soul for a king.” If ever any was, Argyle of me; but I resolve to disappoint many,
may, with strict propriety, be denominated for I come not hither to justify myself, but
a true Scottish Presbyterian. the Lord, ‘ Who is holy in all his ways,
ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL,
MARQUIS OF ARGYLE.
His Spree/2v on [/16 Scajold.



396
SCOTS WORTHIES.



and righteous in all his works, holy and
blessed is his name ;’ neither come I to
condemn others : I know many will expect
that I speak against the hardness of the
sentence pronounced against me; but I
will say nothing to it. I bless the Lord
I pardon all men, as I desire to be
pardoned of the Lord myself: let the
will of the Lord be done; that is all that
I desire. '
“ I hope ye will have more charity to
me now, than ye would have at another
time, seeing I speak before the Lord, to
Whom I must give an account very shortly.
I know very well that my words have
had but very little weight with many; and
that many have mistaken my words and
actings both: many have thought me to
be a great enemy to these great works
that have of late been brought to pass.
But do not mistake me, good people,
I speak it in the presence of the Lord: I
entered not upon the work of reformation
with any design of advantage to myself, or
prejudice to the king and his government;
3.8 my latter will which was written, 1655,
and thereafter delivered to a friend (in
whose hands it still remaineth), can show.
As for these calumnies that have gone
abroad of me, I bless God I know them
to be no more: and as I go to make a
reckoning to my God, I am free as to any
of these, concerning the king’s person or
government. I was real and cordial in
my desires to bring the king home, and in
my endeavours for him when he was at
home; and I had no correspondence with
the adversaries’ army, nor any of them, in
the time when his majesty was in Scotland;
nor had I any accession to his late majesty’s
horrid and execrable murder, by counsel, or
knowledge of it, or any other manner of
way. This is a truth, as I shall answer
to my Judge. And all the time his ma-
jesty was in Scotland, I was still endea-



beareth me witness in it. So much to
that particular. And I hope you all will
remember these.
“ I confess, many look on my condition
as a suffering condition: but I bless the
Lord that He that hath gone before me
hath trod the wine-press of the F ather’s
wrath; by whose sufferings I hope that
my sufferings shall not be eternal. I bless
him that hath taken away the sting of my
sufferings: I may say that my charter was
sealed to-day; for the Lord hath said to
me,‘ Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are
freely forgiven thee :’ and so I hope my
sufferings shall be very easy. And ye
know that the scripture saith, ‘the Captain
of our salvation was made perfect by suf-
ferings.’
“ I shall not speak much to these things
for which I am condemned, lest I seem to
condemn others; it is well known it is
only for compliance, which was the epide-
mical fault of the nation. I wish the Lord
to pardon them: I say no more.
“ There was an expression in these
papers presented by me to the parliament,
of the ‘contagion of these times,’ which
may by some he misconstructed, as if I
intended to lay an imputation upon the
Work of reformation ; but I declare that I
intended no such thing; but it only re—
lated to the corruptions and failings of
men, occasioned by the prevailing of the
usurping powers.
“ I cannot say of my own condition, but
that the Lord in his providence hath mind
of mercy to me, even in this world: for if
I. had been more favourably dealt with,
I fear I might have been overcome with
temptations, as many others are, and many
more I fear will be; and so should have
gone out of the world with a more polluted
conscience, than through the mercy of God
now I have. And hence my condition is
such now, as when I am gone, will be seen
vouring his advantage, my conscience 1' not to have been such as many imaginei'l








e._-
..::e*
L! g
4
‘
I’
r’
V
JAMES GUTHRIE.
397


It IS fit that GOCI take me away before I i “ I desire and ()btest you’ all that hear
fall into these temptations that I see others
are falling into, and many others I fear
will fall: I wish the Lord may prevent it.
Yet blessed be his name, that I am kept
both from present evils, and evils to come.
“ Some may expect I will regret my
own condition; but truly, I neither grudge
nor repine, nor desire any revenge. And
I declare I do not repent my last going up
to London; for I had always rather have
suffered anything, than lie under reproaches
as I did. I desire not that the Lord
should judge any man; nor do I judge
any but myself: I wish, as the Lord hath
pardoned me, so he may pardon them for
this and other things ; and that what they
have done to me may never meet them in
their accounts. I have no more to say,
but to beg the Lord that, when I go away, he
Would bless every one that stayeth behind.
l
.
1
me this day, to take notice—and I wish
that all who see me might hear me—that
now when I am entering into eternity, and
am to appear before my Judge, and as I
desire salvation, and do expect eternal
salvation and happiness from him,-—from
my birth to my scaffold, I am free from
any accession by my knowledge, concern—
ing counsel, or any other way, to his late
majesty’s death; and I pray the Lord to
preserve his majesty, and to pour his best
blessings on his person and government;
and the Lord give him good and faithful
counsellors. Many Christians may stumble
at this, and my friends may be discontented;
but when things are rightly considered.
my friends have no discredit of me, nor
Christians no stumbling-block, but rather
an encouragement.”

JAMES GUTHRIE.

T HE name of this revered martyr will be
held dear by Scottish presbyterians as long
as a regard for pure and undefiled religion
exists in the land. He is said to have
been descended from the ancient family of
Guthrie, and to have given very early
proofs of his abilities as a scholar. When
but a very young man he was appointed
to teach philosophy in the University of
St Andrews, where, by
placidity of temper, he attracted the ad-
miration of all who knew him. Having
been educated in the profession of episco-

was so effectually weaned from his early
predilections, as to be looked upon as a
star of the first magnitude in the presby-
terian church.
Having passed his trials in 1638,11e was
ordained minister of London, where he
remained for several years. In 1646, he
I was one of the ministers appointed to at-
1
an unprecedented ,
pacy, he for a time held out firmly against 4
the simple forms of Presbytery, until, by his
associating with Mr Samuel Rutherford
and others, and taking part in their weekly
I tend king Charles at Newcastle; and also.
during the intervals betwixt the General
Assemblies, he was nominated in the com-
mission to watch over the public affairs
of the church. About three years after,
he was removed to Stirling, where he con-
5 tinued till the Restoration, a faithful watch-
i man upon Zion’s walls,——“ showing Israel
their iniquities, and the house of Jacob
meetings for prayer and conference, he , their sins.”




398
SCOTS WORTHIES.



When the unhappy differences broke out
between the resolutioners and protesters,
he warmly espoused the cause of the lat-
ter; and, aided by his colleague, Mr Ben-
net, preached openly against the abetters
of the “Articles of Perth,” as involving the
land in conjunction with the malignant
party. This was too much for the times;
and they were consequently summoned to
repair to Perth, on the 19th of February,
1651, to answer before the king and the
Committee of Estates,-—one of them, how—
ever, being indisposed, it was put off till
the 22d, when both appeared, and lodged
a protest,-—bearing, that although they
acknowledged the civil authority of the
king, yet Guthrie had been accused by
his majesty and his council for a point of
doctrine maintained and discussed in a
sermon, of which they were not theicom-
petent judges; and therefore he declined
their jurisdiction, and appealed to the
church. In consequence of the king’s ab-
sence, however, judgment was deferred,
and they were, in the mean time, confined
to Perth and Dundee. On the 28th of
February they lodged another protest,
similar to the former, but couched in
stronger language, and supported by many
powerful arguments. Farther procedure
'was sisted against them for the present;
but Guthrie’s declining the king’s authority
at this time was made the principal charge
against him some years after.
The king’s affairs being new hopeless,
an army was raised under the command
of Middleton, into which Charles was to
throw himself for protection. But his last
defence lay in the Committee of Estates.
The king had written to the protesters to
lay down their arms, and the Committee
had offered indemnity to all who would
submit to his authority, while at the same
time the Commission of Assembly were
not wanting in energetic measures against


turb the public peace. Guthrie, conceiv-
ing Middleton to have laid himself open
to the highest ecclesiastical censure, is said
to have proposed summary excommunica-
tion, and to have been supported by a
majority of the Commission, as a sola~
tium due to the church at such a critical
juncture, when nothing but firm adherence
to the principles of Presbytery could main-
tain her independence. He himself, there-
fore, was nominated as the fittest person
to put in execution the sentence of the
Commission, which he did from his own
pulpit at Stirling. For certain reasons,
however, which seemed sufficiently valid
to the Commission, they afterwards re-
leased Middleton from the censure; but
he never forgave Guthrie.
About this time he wrote several papers
in favour of the protesters, for which and
his former fidelity he was one of the three
who were deposed by the pretended As-
sembly at St Andrews, in 1657.
indeed, had been the malice of the resolu-
tioners, that they actually stoned him upon
one occasion; because, upon the death of
his colleague, Mr Bennet, he would not
accept one of their party.
less opposed to Cromwell and his faction
than he was to the malignants; for, at the
time when the marquis of Argyle procured
an equal hearing between the resolutioners
and protesters, at London, in 1656, he so
maintained the king’s right, in opposition
to the usurper’s chaplain, as to excite the
indignation of the independents.
Not long after the Restoration, while
Guthrie and a few of the faithful brethren
who had met at Edinburgh were drawing
up a petition to his majesty, they were all
apprehended, and imprisoned in Edinburgh
castle, with the exception of one who made
his escape. Guthrie, however, was not
suffered to remain there; but was conveyed
to the castle of Stirling, where he was kept
Such,
But he was no
those who had thus the hardihood to dis— in close confinement until a short time


I
.___

‘_._. ‘-__~\f


JAMES GUTHRIE.
399




before nis trial, which took place on the
20th of February, 1661. When brought
before the court, the chancellor informed
him, that he was to be tried for high
treason, as had already been certified in
the copy of an indictment which had been
served upon him, and which would now be
read in his hearing. The counts in
this indictment were :-—“ His contriving,
consenting to, and exhibiting before
the Committee of Estates, a paper called
the Western Remonstrance. 2. His con-
triving, writing, and publishing that abo-
minable pamphlet, called—The Causes of
the Lord’s Wrath. 3. His contriving,
writing, and subscribing the paper called
the Humble Petition of the twenty-third
of August last. 4. His convocating of the
king’s lieges, the. 5. His declaring his
‘majesty incapable to be judge over him,
according to the protests and appeals pre-
sented by him to that effect at Perth. 6.
Some treasonable expressions he was al-
.eged to have uttered, at a meeting in 1650,
or 1651. In refutation of all these charges,
he delivered an admirable defence before
the parliament, not only in vindication of
himself, but also laudatory of the noble
cause for which he was suffering; after
which he was ordered to remove.
Before retiring, however, he requested
to be allowed a short time for consult-
ing with his counsel, which was granted;
and the 28th of the same month was
appointed for entering upon his defence.
It is said that in drawing up this docu-
ment he very much surprised his counsel
by the accurate knowledge of Scots law
which he discovered, and by suggesting
several things which would have escaped
their notice.
Upon the 11th of April, the process
against him was read in the house, upon
which occasion also he delivered an affect-
ing speech, which he concluded with the
following moving appeal :—“ My lords, in

the last place, I humbly beg that---having
brought so clear evidence from the word
of God, so much divine reason and human
laws, and so much of the common practice
of the kirk and kingdom, in my defence;
and being already cast out of my ministry,
out of my dwelling and maintenance, my-
self and my family put to live on the
charity of others, having now suffered eight
months’ imprisonment—your lordships
would put no other burden upon me. Ishall
conclude with the words of the prophet
J eremiah,—‘ Behold, I am in your hands,
do to me what seemeth good to you: I
know, for certain, that the Lord hath com-
manded me to speak all these things;
and that if you put me to death, you shall
bring innocent blood upon yourselves, and
upon the inhabitants of this city.’-—1\Iy
conscience I cannot submit, my lords; but
this old crazy body and mortal flesh, I do
submit, to do with it whatever ye will,
whether by death or by banishment, or
imprisonment, or anything else, only I
beseech you to ponder well what profit
there is in my blood. It is not the
execution of me, or many others, that
will extinguish the covenant and work of
reformation since the year 1638,——my
blood, bondage, or banishment, will con-
tribute more for the propagation of these
things, than my life or liberty could do,
though I should live many years.”
Although this speech had not the effect
that might have been expected, it never-
theless made such a powerful impress-mu
upon not a few of the members, that they
withdrew from the house, declaring that
they would have nothing to do with the
blood of such a righteous man. The earl
of Tweeddale was the only person that
spoke against putting him to death,—sayin g
that banishment had been the severest
censure laid upon preachers for their
opinions, and yet Mr Guthrie had been
condemned to die.” The day of his exe-




4:00
SCOTS WORTHIES.




eution was not named till the 8th of May,
when the parliament ordered him and
William Govan to be hanged at the Cross
of Edinburgh, on the first of June, and
Guthrie’s head to be fixed on the Nether
Bow,* his estate to be confiscated, and his
arms torn. Govan’s head was to be placed
upon the West Port. After he had re-
ceived his sentence, he accosted the par-
liament thus :—“ My lords, let this sentence
never affect you more than it does me,
and let my blood never be required of the
king’s family!”
Between his sentence and execution,
Guthrie enjoyed perfect composure and
serenity of mind, and wrote a great many
letters to his friends and acquaintances.
His farewell letter to his wife, being
written with the most dignified submission,
and breathing the most ardent affection
and cheerful resignation, we give entire :—-~
“ My heart,—Being within a few hours
to lay down my life for the testimony of
Jesus Christ, I do send these few lines as
the last obedience of unfeigned and spot—
less affection which I bear unto you, not
only as one flesh, but as a member with
me of that blessed mystical body of the
Lord; for I trust you are, and that God,
who hath begun his good work in you,
will also perfect it, and bring it to an end,
and give you life and salvation. What-
ever may be your infirmities and weakness,
yet the grace of God shall be sufficient for
you, and his strength shall be perfected in
your weakness. To me you have been a
very kind and faithful yoke-fellow, and not
a hinderer but a helper in the work of the
Lord. I do hear you this testimony as all
the recompense I can now leave you with:
—In all the trials I have met with in the
vork of the ministry, these twenty years
past, which have not been few, and those
from aggressors of many sorts, upon the
* See Wood-cut, next page.

right hand and upon the left, you were
never a tempter of me to dissent away
from the living God, and from the way of
my duty, to comply with an evil cause, or
to hearken to the counsels of flesh and
blood, for avoiding the cross, and for gain-
ing the profit and preferment of a present
world. You have wrought much with
your hands for furnishing bread for me
and my children, and were always willing
that I should show hospitality, especially
to those that bore the image of God.
These things I mention, not to puff you
up, but to encourage you under your
present affliction and distress, being per-
suaded that God will have regard to you
and to the children of my body, whom I
leave to your care, that they may be
brought up in the knowledge of the Lord.
Let not your wants and weaknesses dis-
courage you; there are power, riches, and
abundance with God, both as to the things
of the body and those of the soul; and he
will supply all your wants, and carry you
through. It is like to be a very trying
time; but cleave you to God, and keep his
way, without casting off your confidence.
Fear not to be drowned in the depths of
the troubles that may attend this land.
God will hide you under his shadow, and
keep you in the hollow of his hand. Be
sober and of a meek spirit; strive not
against Providence; but be subject to him
who is the Father of spirits. Decline not
the cross, but embrace it as your own;
love all that love the Lord, and delight in
their fellowship. Give yourself to prayer
and be diligent in reading the holy scrip-
tures. Wait on the ordinances, and hold
them in great esteem as the appointed
means of God, for your salvation. Join
together the exercise of piety and repent-
ance, and manifest your faith in the fruits
of sincere obedience and of a gospel con~
versation.
your skin.
Value your conscience above
Be not solicitous, although you



JAMES GUTHRIE.
401



know not wherewith to clothe you and
your children, or wherewith to dine; God’s
providence and premises are a true, rich,
and never failing portion. Jesus ‘Christ
be all your salvation and all your desire!
You I recommend to Him, and Him to
you. My heart! I recommend you to
the eternal love of Jesus Christ. I am
helped of God, and hope I shall be
helped to the end. Pray for me, while I
am here, and praise with me hereafter.
God be with you! I am your’s.
Edinburgh Tolbooth,
June 1st, 1661.
On the same day, it having been reported
}“JAMES Geri-min.”
that he was to purchase his life by retract-
ing something he had formerly said and
done, he wrote and subscribed the follow-
ing declaration :—
“ These are to declare, that I do own
the ‘ Causes of God’s Wrath,’ the ‘ Suppli-
cation at Edinburgh,’ last August, and the
accession I had to the ‘ Remonstrances,’
and if any do think, or have reported, that
Iwas willing to recede from these, they
have wronged me, as never having any
ground from me to think or report so.
This I attest, under my hand, at Edin-
burgh, about eleven o’clock, forenoon, be-
fore these witnesses :—
ARTHUR FORBES, JOHN GUTIIRIE.
HUGH WALKER, JAMES Cowm.
(Signed) JAMES GUTHRIE.”
Having settled all his worldly concerns,
he dined with his friends with great cheer-
fulness, and called for cheese—of which he
had been particularly fond, but had been
dissuaded from the use of it, in consequence
of being subject-to the gravel remarking
that he was now beyond the hazard of that
disease.

with the most perfect composure and forti-
tude, he was immediately after conveyed,
under a guard, from the tolbooth to the
scaffold, which was erected at the cross.
After dinner was over, he retired I
by himself for some time; and, returning
l And here, so far from betraying any
symptoms of fear, he rather expressed an
anxiety for death. He spoke about an
hour to the multitude with the same com-
posure as if he had been delivering an
ordinary discourse, concluding with the
words of Simeon of old, “ \low let thy
servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation I”
Of his last speech and testimony he gave
a copy to a friend, to be preserved for his
son, and delivered to him when he came
of age, as he was then only a child. Im~
mediately before being turned over, he
raised the napkin from his eyes, and cried
aloud,—“ The Covenants, the Covenants,
shall yet be Scotland’s reviving!”
In a few weeks after his execution, as
Middleton's coach was coming down the
Netherbow Port, several drops of blood


t
fell upon it from the martyr’s head, which
all the art of man could not wash out. It
was therefore found necessary to substi—
l tute a new cover.
5% r
‘J
402
SCOTS WORTHIES.





Guthrie was the first minister who suf-
fered death, at that period, for asserting
the kingly prerogative of the Lord Jesus, in
opposition to Erastianf supremacy. He
was a man honoured by God to be singu~
larly zealous and faithful in carrying on
the work of reformation, in which he con-
ducted himself with the most unswerving
fidelity, under all changes and revolutions.
His assiduity in promoting the king’s
interest in Scotland was uniform; and of
this Charles himself was sensible; as may
be learned from an expression he made
use of, when informed of his death. “And
what have you done with Patrick Gillespie?”
inquired the king.——“ He had so many
friends in the house,” was the reply, “that
his life could not be taken 1”——“ Well,” said
his majesty,-—“ if I had known you would
have spared Gillespie, I would have spared
Guthrie.” In a word, Guthrie was a man
adorned with almost every qualification,
necessary to complete either the man or
the Christian.
Besides the writings already noticed, he
wrote a pamphlet against Cromwell, for
which he suffered several hardships during
the usurper’s supremacy. The last sermon
he preached at Stirling, from Mat. 14. 22,
entitled “A Cry from the Dead,” with his
Ten Considerations anent the Decay of
Religion, were first published by himself,
in 1660; and an authentic paper written
and subscribed by himself upon the occa-
sion of his being stoned by the resolution
party, in 1656, for his accession to the call
of Mr Robert Rule to be his colleague,
So named from Erastus, a physician of the
sixteenth century, who taught that the power of
the sovereign was supreme in all matters, both
temporal and spiritual; and that if a church as-
sumed powers of government and discipline, it un-
warrantably encroached on the authority of the
magistrate. In opposing this doctrine, the church
of Scotland—at thetime of which we write—engaged
in one of her most perilous struggles, and shed not
a. little of her best blood.

after the death of Mr Bennet. also wrote
a treatise on Ruling Elders and Deacons,
affixed to the last edition of his cousin Mr
William Guthrie’s “ Trial of a Saving
Interest in Christ.”
TESTIMONY
OF
J AMES GUTHRIE.
His Speech on the Scafi'old.
“ Men and brethren, I fear many of you
be come hither to gaze, rather than to be
edified by the carriage and last words of
a dying man: but if any have an ear to
hear, as I hope some of this great conflu-
ence have, I desire your audience to a few
words. I am come hither to lay down
this earthly tabernacle and mortal flesh of
mine; and I bless God, through his grace,
I do it willingly, and not by constraint.
I say, I suffer willingly: if I had been so
minded, I might have made a diversion,
and not been a prisoner; but being
conscious to myself of nothing worthy of
death or of bonds, I would not stain my
innocency with the suspicion of guiltiness
by my withdrawing: neither have I wanted
opportunities and advantages to escape
since I was prisoner, nor by the fault of
my keepers, God knoweth, but otherwise;
but neither for this had I light or liberty,
lest I should reflect upon the Lord’s name,
and offend the generation of the righteous:
and if some men have not been mistaken,
or dealt deceitfully in telling me so, Imight
have avoided not only the severity of the
sentence, but also had much favour and
countenance,by complying with the courses
of the time: but I durst not redeem my
life with the loss of my integrity; God
knoweth I durst not; and that since I was
prisoner, he hath so holden me by the hand,
that he never suffered me to bring it into
debate in my inward thoughts, much less



JAMES GUTHRIE.
4-03


to propone or hearken to any overture of
that kind. I did judge it better to suffer
than to sin; and therefore I am come
hither to lay down my life this day. And
I bless God, I die not as a fool; nor that
I have anything wherein to glory in my-
self: I acknowledge that I am a sinner, yea,
one of the greatest and vilest that has
owned a profession of religion, and one of
the most unworthy that has preached the
gospel; my corruptions have been strong
and many, and have made me a sinner in
all things, yea, even in following my duty:
and therefore, righteousness have I none
of mine own, all is vile; but, ‘I do be-
lieve that Jesus Christ came into the
world to save sinners, whereof I am chief.’
Through faith in his righteousness and
blood have I obtained mercy; and through
him and him alone, have I the hope of a
blessed conquest and victory over sin, and
Satan, and hell, and death; and that ‘ I
shall attain unto the resurrection of the
just ;’ and be made partaker of eternal life.
‘ I know in whom I have believed, and that
he is able to keep that which I have com-
mitted unto him against that day.’ I have
preached salvation through his name, and
as I have preached, so do I believe, and do
commend the riches of his free grace, and
faith in his name unto you all, as the only
way whereby ye can be saved.
“And as I bless the Lord that I die not as
a fool; so also, that I die not for evil-doing.
Not a few of you may haply judge, that ‘ I
suffer as a murderer, or as an evil-deer, or as
a thief, or as a busybody in other men’s mat-
ters.’ It was the lot of the Lord Jesus Christ
himself, and hath been of many of his pre-
cious servants and people, to suffer by the
world as evil-doers ; and as my soul scareth
not at it, but desireth to rejoice in being
brought into conformity with my blessed
Head, and so blessed a company in this
thing; so I do desire and pray, that I may
be to none of you to-day, upon this account,

‘ a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence.’
Blessed is he that shall not be offended at
Jesus Christ, and his poor servants and
members, because of their being condemned
as evil-doers by the world. God is my
record, that in these things for which
sentence of death hath passed against me,
I have a good conscience! I bless God,
they are not matters of compliance with
sectaries, or designs and practices against
his majesty’s person or government, or
the person or government of his royal
father. My heart, I bless God, is conscious
unto no disloyalty; nay, loyal I have been,
and I commend it unto you to be loyal
and obedient unto the Lord. True piety
is the foundation of true loyalty: a wicked
man may be a flatterer and a time-server,
but he will never be a loyal subject. But
to return to my purpose; the matters for
which I am condemned are matters be-
longing to my calling and function as a
minister of the gospel,‘ such as the dis-
covery and the reproving of sin; the pressing
and the holding fast of the oath of God in
the covenant, and preserving and carrying
on the work of religion and reformation
according thereto ; and denying to acknow-
ledge the civil magistrate as the ‘proper
competent judge in causes ecclesiastical :’
that in all these things which (God so
ordering by his gracious providence) are
the grounds of my indictment and death,
I have a good conscience, as having walked
therein according to the light and rule of
God’s word, and as did become a minister
of the gospel.
“ I do also bless the Lord, that I do not
die as ‘ one not desired.’ 1 know that, by
not a few, I neither have been nor am de-
sired. It hath. been my lot to have been a
man of contention and sorrow; but it is
’ my comfort, that for my own things I have
not contended, but for the things of Jesus
Christ, for what relateth to his interest
and work, and the well-being of his people.


404
SCOTS WORTHIES.




. I . l
In order to the preservlng and promoting
of these, I did protest against, and stood
in opposition unto, these late Assemblies at
St Andrews, Dundee, and Edinburgh; and
the public resolutions for bringing the
malignant party into the judicatories and
armies of this kingdom, conceiving the
same contrary to the word of God, and to
our solemn covenants and engagements;
and to be an inlet to defection, and to the
ruin and destruction of the work of God.
And it is now manifest to many consciences,
that I have not been therein mistaken;
nor was not fighting against a man of straw.
I was also desirous, and did use some poor
endeavours to have the church of God
purged of insufficient, scandalous, and cor-
rupt ministers and elders; for these things
I have been mistaken by some, and hated
by others; but, I bless the Lord, as I had
the testimony of my own conscience, so I
was and am therein approved in the con-
sciences of many'of the Lord’s precious
servants and people ; and how little soever
I may die desired by some, yet by these
I know I do die desired, and their appro-
bation, and prayers, and affection, are of
more value with me, than the contradic~
tion, or reproach, or hatred, of many others;
the love of the one I cannot recompense,
and the mistake, or hatred, or reproach, of
the other, I do with all my heart forgive;
and wherein I have offended any of them,
do beg their mercy and forgiveness. I do
from my soul wish that my death may
be profitable unto both, that the one may
be confirmed and established in the straight
ways of the Lord, and that the other (if
the Lord so will) may be convinced, and
cease from these things that are not good,
and do not edify, but destroy.
“ One thing I would warn you all of,
that God is wroth, yea, very wroth with
Scotland, and threateneth to depart and
remove his candlestick; the causes of his
wrath are many, and would to God it were
l
Wl
not one great cause, that Causes of God’s ‘
Wrath are despised and rejected of men.
Consider the case that is recorded, Jer.
xxxvi, and the consequence of it, and
tremble and fear.
Let my death grieve none of you,—-it will
be more profitable and advantageous both
for me, and for you, and for the church of
God, and for Christ’s interest and honour,
than my life could have been. I forgive
all men the guilt of it, and I desire you to
do so also: ‘ Pray for them that persecute
you, and bless them that curse you; bless,
I say, and curse not.’ I die in the faith
of the apostles and primitive Christians,
and protestant reformed churches, particu-
larly of the church of Scotland, whereof I
am a member and minister. I bear my
witness and testimony to the doctrine,
worship, discipline, and government of the
church of Scotland, by Kirk Sessions, Pres-
byteries, Synods, and General Assemblies.
Popery, prelacy, and all the trumpery of
service and ceremonies that wait upon
them, I do abhor. I do bear witness unto
the National Covenant of Scotland, and the
Solemn League and Covenant betwixt the
three kingdoms of Scotland, England, and
Ireland: these sacred, solemn, public oaths
of God, I believe, can be loosed nor dis-
pensed with, by no person, no party, no
power upon earth; but are still binding
upon these kingdoms, and will be for ever
hereafter; and are ratified and sealed by
the conversion of many thousand souls,
since our entering thereinto. Ibear my
witness to the protestation against the con-
troverted Assemblies, and the public reso-
lutions; to the testimonies given against
the sectaries; against the course of back-
sliding and defection that is now on foot
in the land, and all the branches and parts
thereof, under whatsoever name or notion,
or acted by whatsoever party or person.
And in the last place, I bear my witness
to the cross of Jesus Christ; and that I



WILLIAM GOVAN.
405




I tion and presbytery of Stirling once more
with faithful pastors, and grant that the
work and people of God may be revived
through all Britain, and over all the world.
Jesus Christ is my light, and my life, my
righteousness,mystrength,andmysalvation:
‘ He is all my salvation, and all my desire.’
Him, Ch, Him, I do with all the strength
of my soul commend unto you. ‘ Blessed
the everlasting gospel; and that he hath are they that are not offended in him:
deigned, in the midst of much contradiction I Bless
from Satan and the world, to seal my : him, 0 my soul, from henceforth, even for
ever.’ Rejoice, rejoice all ye that love
him; be patient and rejoice in tribulation:

never had cause, nor have cause this day,
to repent because of anything I have
suffered, or can now suffer for his name.
I take God to record upon my soul, I
would not exchange this scaffold, with the
palace or mitre of the greatest prelate in
Britain. Blessed be God, who hath showed
mercy to such a wretch, and hath revealed
his Son in me, and made me a minister of

i
; blessed are they that trust in him.
ministry upon the hearts of not a few of’
his people, and especially in the station
wherein I was last,-—I mean the congrega~ blessed are you, and blessed shall you be
tion. and presbytery of Stirling. God for» for ever and ever. Everlasting righteous-
give the poor empty man that did there 1 ness and eternal salvation are yours: ‘All
intrude upon my labours, and hath made a are yours, for ye are Christ’s, and Christ
prey of many poor souls, and exposed others is GOd’S.’ ‘ Remember 1116, O Lord, with
to reproach, and oppression, and a famine the favour thou bearest to thy people; 0
of the word of the Lord. God forgive the visit me with thy salvation, that I may see
misleaders of that part of the poor people, the good of thy chosen, that I may rejoice
who tempted them to reject their own in the gladness of thy nation; that I may
pastor, and to admit of intruders; and the glory with thine inheritance.’——‘ N ow let
Father of mercies pity that poor misled thy servant depart in peace, since mine
people; and the Lord visit the congrega- eyes have seen thy salvation.’ ”


WILLIAM GOVAN.

BIOGRAPHY seems to be silent concerning was on the scaffold when Charles I. was
the birth and life of this worthy man, who beheaded; but this he satisfactorily dis-
suffered along with Mr Guthrie. All that proved by establishing an alibi.
is known of him is, that in some writings Upon the scaffold he took a ring from
he is styled Captain Govan, fi~om which it his finger, and gave it to a friend, desiring
has been concluded, that he was a soldier. ‘ him to carry it to his wife, and to say to
The principal offence with which he was her that “ he died in humble confidence,
charged was, that of having deserted the and found the cross of Christ sweet.” He
king’s standard at Hamilton, along with 5 declared that “ Christ had done all for him,
many others, at a time when the repeated and that it was by him alone he had been
victories obtained by Cromwell rendered justified.” Being desired to look up to
all hope of further resistance unavailing. l Christ, he answered,-—“ He looketh down
It was farther alleged against him, that he and smileth upon me.” After which, hav-


406
SCOTS WORTHIES.



I “A


ing ascended the ladder, he said,—“ Dear
friends, pledge this cup of suffering as I
have done, before you sin; for sin and
suffering have been presented to me,
and I have chosen the suffering part.”
After the rope had been put round his
neck, and adjusted, he said :—“ Now I am
near my last, and I desire to reflect upon
no man. I would only mention one thing.
The Commissioner and I went out to the
battle-field together for the same cause,—
I have now the cord about my neck; and
he is promoted to be his majesty’s commis-
sioner; yet for a thousand worlds I would
not exchange lots with him. Praise and
glory be to Christ for ever!”
After a short pause, and having prayed
for a little, he gave the signal, and in a
few moments was in possession of his
crown. He was accounted a pious and
good man, and was evidently a firm ad-
herent to the presbyterian cause. His
head was afterwards placed above the
West Port, in the city of Edinburgh.

TESTIMONY
OF
WILLIAM GOVAN.
His Speech on the Scafi'olcl.
“ Gentlemen and Countrymen,—~I am
here to suffer this day; and that I may
declare to you the cause—it is for laying
down my arms at Hamilton, as did all the
rest of the company that were there.
What was I, that king and parliament
should have taken notice of me, being a
private boy thrust forth into the fields, who
was not worthy to be noticed by any?
For as I was obscure in myself, so my
actions were not wconspicuous. Yet it
pleased the Lord to employ me as a mean
and instrument—unworthy as I was—for
carrying on a part of the late Reformation;
which I did faithfully endeavour in my

station, not going beyond it,—for which I
am to suffer this day.
“ Licentious people have taken occa—
sion to calumniate me, by saying I was an
instrument in his late majesty’s death,
and that I should have said I was on
the scaffold at the time of his execution:
——all which I do here deny, in the pres-
ence of Almighty God, to whom I must
shortly answer. And, before you all, I do
here protest, as I hope for salvation, that
I was not instrumental in that, either in
word or deed. But on the contrary, it
was sore against my heart, who was still a
wellwisher of his majesty, and even wished
he might be to these lands as David, Solo-
mon, and Josiah. But what could a simple
protestation of one who is the least among
men do? I do indeed remember I was
honoured to bring up~ Montrose’s standard
through these streets, and deliver it to the
parliament; in which I glory, as thou.-
sands more than I did at that time; for I
was then. but an actor in the cause; but
now I am a sufferer for it.
“ It pleased the Lord, in the fourteenth
year of my age, to manifest his love to me,
and now it is about twenty-four years since,
-—all which time Iprofessed the truth which
I suffer for, and bear testimony to, at this
day, and am not afraid of the cross upon
that account :—It is sweet, it is sweet—
otherwise how durst I look upon the corpse
of him who hangs there, with courage, and
smile upon those sticks and that gibbet as
the gates of heaven! I die confident in
the faith of the prophets and apostles,
bearing my testimony to the gospel as it is
now preached by an honest ministry in this
city: though, alas I there is a corrupt
generation among the ministry.
“ I bear witness with my blood to the
persecuted government of this church, in
General Assemblies, Synods, and Presby-
teries, and also to the protestation against
the public resolutions. I bear witness to



EARL OF
LOUDON. 407



the covenants,National and Solemn League,
and now am to seal these with my blood.
I likewise testify against all popery, prelacy,
idolatry, superstition, and the service-book;
for I have taken not a little pains in
searching out those things, and have found

them to be but the relics of the Romish
superstition and idolatry left in king Henry
VIII.’s time; who, though it pleased the
Lord to make use of him for beginning the
work of Reformation, yet he was no good
man.”

JOHN CAMPBELL, EARL OE LOUDON.

THIS distinguished nobleman was heir to
Sir James Campbell of Lawers, and hus-
band of Margaret, countess of Loudon.
At the coronation of Charles I., he was
raised to the peerage, under the title of
earl of London, along with several others
of the Scottish nobility.
From his youth he was well affected to
the presbyterian cause; and, about the
year 1637, when the second Reformation
began to dawn, he not only joined the
Covenanters, but, when the General As-
sembly met at Glasgow, in November,
1638, he gave regular attendance, and was
found to be of great service, both by his
excellent advice, and the many eloquent
speeches he delivered. When the dispute
arose between the marquis of Hamilton the
king’s commissioner, and some of the mem—
bers, regarding the election of an Assembly
clerk, Loudon, in name of the commission-
ers to the Assembly, gave in reasons of a
very high and independent strain, why the
lord-commissioner and his assessors ought
to have but one vote in the house, in
opposition to the marquis, who insisted
upon the contrary. These reasons were
drawn out in such a masterly manner, that

the earl of T raquair craved a copy, pro-
mising to answer them; but the reply
never made its appearance. About the ]
same time, too, he told the king’s commis~ i
sioner :-—“ That he knew of no other bond ,
betwixt a king and his subjects, than re-
ligion and the laws; and, if these were
violated, men’s lives were not dear to them;
that such fears were past with his party.”
Galled to the heart to see that Presby-
tery was almost restored, and prelacy well
nigh abolished, the king, with the advice
of his bishops, immediately put himself at
the head of an army, inorder to reduce
the Scots. They, however, having heard
of his hostile intentions, were not a whit
behind. Both armies marched towards
the border; but, upon the approach of the
Scots, the English became intimidated, and
a truce was agreed upon. Commissioners
having been appointed to treat on both
sides, the Scottish army deputed lord
Loudon, who, on his knees, informed the
king, “ That their demand was only to
enjoy their religion and liberties, according
to the ecclesiastical and civil laws of the
kingdom.” To this Charles replied :—
“That if that was all they desired,
peace would soon be made ;”—promising
at the same time “ that all ecclesiastical
matters be decided by an Assembly; and civil
matters by the parliament; which Assembly
should be held once a year; and that on
the 6th of August there should be a free
General Assembly, when he himself would
be present, and pass an Act of oblivion, to
that effect.” These preliminaries were
subscribed by the commissioners on both


4.08
SCOTS WORTHIES.




sides, in the sight of both armies, at Kirks,
near Berwick, on the 18th day of June,
1639.
The treaty, however, was but of short
duration; for, at the instigation of the
bishops, the king soon after caused the
articles of peace to be burnt by the hang-
man, charging the Scots, at the same time,
with violating the terms of agreement,
although Loudon satisfactorily proved the
contrary. Charles was far from being
pleased at the freedom of speech which
Loudon had used; but he was permitted
to return home for the time.
In the mean time the General Assembly
met at Edinburgh, on the 12th of August,
and Mr David Dickson was chosen mode-
rator. Among other matters Henderson
and Ramsay moved, that episcopacy was
of human origin, and altogether an institu-
tion of man, when the earl of Traquair
interrupted the‘ discussion, and declared
that he did not wish them to go into any
dispute upon the subject; but merely to
show how far episcopacy was contrary to
the constitution of the Scottish church.
Loudon most satisfactorily explained the
Act of Assembly, 1580, which condemned
the office of bishops, prior to the sub-
scribing of the National Covenant, and
observed that,— Episcopacy, having no
warrant in the word of God, and Presby-
tery having that warrant, had been ac-
cordingly sworn in the National Covenant.
The parliament met on the same day on
which the Assembly was prorogued; but
entering upon business to which the king was
altogether averse, Traquair managed mat~
ters so as to put a stop to all their proceedings.
In this unpleasant state of affairs, Dunferm-
line and Loudon were sent to implore his ma-
jesty to allow the house to proceed; but be-
fore these two noblemen reached the palace,
orders were sent, discharging them in the
king’s name, from coming within a mile
of the court, upon pretence that vthey



had no warrant from his majesty’s com-
missioner.
In the mean time the king prorogued
the parliament till the second of June,
1640; and in that state the affairs of the
nation lay over until January, 1641, when
the parliamentary committee, having ob-
tained leave to send up deputies to repre-
sent their grievances, pitched upon Dun-
fermline and London, with Douglas of
Cavers, and Mr Barclay, provost of Irvine,
for that purpose. His majesty received
them with apparent courtesy, and even
permitted them to kiss hands; but as they
understood they were not to be honoured
with a private audience, they craved a
copy of Traquair’s information to the
English council; but were refused. On
the 3d of March, however, this honour was
granted them, when Loudon took occasion
to inform the king, that his ancient and
native kingdom was independent of any
other judicatory, and solicited his majesty’s
protection in defence of religion, liberty,
and the cause of the church. Concerning
those who had misrepresented the Scots
to Charles, his lordship said :-—“ If it please
God for our sins to make our condition so
deplorable as that our enemies may get the
shadow of your majesty’s authority to pal-
liate their ends~—as we hope in God they
will not—then, as those who are sworn to
defend our religion, our recourse must be
to the God of Jacob for our refuge, who
is the Lord of lords, and King of kings, by
whom kings reign and princes decree jus~
tice. And if, in speaking thus—out of zeal
for our religion, the duty we owe to our
country, and in vindication of the heavy
charge brought against us—we have said
anything unadvisedly in the warmth of
our attachment to the cause, we fall down
at your majesty’s feet, craving pardon, in
all humility, for our freedom. But, in the
present state of affairs, it is necessary that
we distinguish between church and state,



EARL OF
LOUDON.



-—between the ecclesiastical and civil
power; both being materially one, and yet,
formally, distinct in power, in jurisdiction,
in laws, in bodies, in ends, in offices, and
officers. For, although the church and
her ecclesiastic assemblies be formally dif-
ferent and distinct from parliament and
civil judicatories; yet there is so strict and
necessary a conjunction betwixt ecclesiastic
and civil jurisdiction, betwixt religion and
justice, that the one cannot properly exist
and be preserved without the other,—and
therefore they must stand and fall, live and
die together.” After having enlarged at
considerable length upon the privileges of
both, he concluded thus :-—“ That your ma-
jesty may be graciously pleased to com-
mand that the parliament proceed freely
to determine upon the articles given in to
them; and, whatsoever exceptions, objec-
tions, or informations, are made against
any of the particular overtures, &c., we
are most willing to receive the same in
writing; and shall, in the same way, re-
turn our answers and humble desires.“
The Scots commissioners having ap-
peared on the 11th of March, and produced
their instructions, a good deal of conversa-
tion followed between the king and them;
in course of which, archbishop Laud, who
sat to the right of his majesty, was ob-
served to treat them contemptuously, by
instigating the king to tease them with
questions altogether foreign fi*om the na-
ture of their commission. Upon this oc-
casion, it seemed evident that nothing else
had been intended by Traquair than to
intrap the commissioners by his questions;
but he was met at every point by argu-
ments which he found impossible to over-
turn. Recourse was therefore had to the
strong arm of despotic law, and the whole of
the commissioners were taken into custody.
The earl of London was sent to the Tower

for a letter alleged to have been written
by him, and sent by the Scots to the
French king, of the following tenor :--
“ Sire,
“ Your majesty being the refuge
and sanctuary of afflicted princes and states,
we have found it necessary to send this
gentleman, Mr Colville, to represent to
your majesty the candour and‘a ingenuity,
as well of our actions and proceedings,
as of our inventions, which we desire to be
engraven and written in the whole world,
with a beam of the sun, as well as to your
majesty. \Ve therefore beseech you, Sire,
to give faith and credit to him, and to all
that he shall say on our part, touching us
and our affairs. Being much assured,
Sire, of an assistance equal to your wonted
clemency heretofore, and so often showed
to the nation, which will not yield the glory
of any other whatsoever, to be eternally,”
" Sire
“Your majesty’s most humble. most
obedient, and most affectionate
servant.”
For information upon this important
point, we are indebted to the author of
“History of the Stuarts,” who maintains
that the letter was composed by Montrose,
when the king was marching with a
powerful army against Scotland; and that
it was copied by Loudon, and subscribed
by himself, Montrose, Rothes, Marr, Mont-
gomery, Forrester, and General Leslie;
but that it never was sent. The copy
was without date, and without address;
and having been judged inelegant French,
the idea had been dropped. But it was
enough for T raquair’s sinistrous purposes,
who, by some means or other had got
possession of it; and the king’s imbecile
mind was not very difficult to reuse. The
earl having been called before the council
to answer to the charge, at once acknow-
5 ledged the manuscript and signature to be
‘ History ofthe Stuarts, vol. I.
i his own; but stated at the same time, in
SF
410
SCOTS WORTHIES.


defence, that all this had been done when
his majesty was marching with a hostile
army against his native country; and that,
in these circumstances, they could think
of no one better qualified to act as their in-
tercessor, and to whom the king would be
more disposed to listen, than the French
king,——being his majesty’s own near rela-
tion: but that having been judged too
late, the letter had never been so much as
addressed, and therefore had not been sent,
as both that and the want of a date would
testify.
All was of no avail, and the earl was
remanded to prison. Charles was deter-
mined that his life should be sacrificed, and
that too, in the most cowardly manner,
without trial or conviction, and, by the
hand of an assassin. Burnet, in his “Me-
moirs of the Duke of Hamilton,” acknow-
ledges that the king was advised to proceed
capitally against Loudon; but Rushworth,
an English historian, affirms, that about
three o’clock in the afternoon, the king
sent his own letter to William Balfour,
lieutenant of the Tower, commanding him
to see the lord Loudon’s head struck off,
within the Tower, before nine the next
morning. That his lordship might pre-
pare for death, the lieutenant gave him
immediate notice of this command. Con-
fident in the justice of his cause, the earl
received the intimation with astonishing
serenity and composure of mind. The
lieutenant, at the same time, informed the
marquis of Hamilton, and both immediately
set off to the king, whom they found in
bed. Scarcely had the warrant been
named, when the king, suspecting their
business, stopped them, and in a rage ex_
claimed,-—“by G—d, it shall be executed!”
The marquis, however, remonstrated with
him upon the perfidiousness of his design,
and laid before him the fatal consequences
that might ensue, by alienating from
him the nobility, from whom his own life



might be in danger; and that Scotland, to
a man, would immediately arm against
him. Like a pettish babe foiled in its
intention, the poor king demanded the
warrant, and tore it in pieces,-—dismissing
the marquis and lieutenant somewhat unce-
remoniously. About the 28th of June, by
the good providence of God, the noble lord
obtained his liberty, after having been in’
structed to conceal his harsh treatment
from his countrymen, and to use all his
endeavours to dispose them to peace,—but
another crisis was at hand. The Scots
were resolute, and Charles evinced no dis-
position to give way. A new War, there-
fore, broke out, and the king put himself at
the head of the army to suppress the Scots.
They, however, were not tardy in their
preparations, and accordingly pushed their
way as far as Durham, with marked suc-
cess. In all this Loudon acted no incon-
spicuous part. Through his endeavours
the citizens of Edinburgh and other places
cheerfully contributed money and other
necessaries to carry on the war. The
king’s troops were defeated at Newburn,
and he found himself reduced to the
necessity of appointing commissioners to
treat with the Scots. The meeting took
place at Rippon, on the 1st of October,
1640, and the earls of Dunfermline, Rothes,
and Loudon, with Messrs Henderson and
Johnston, were appointed commissioners
on the side of the Scots. After agreeing
to a truce for three months, the treaty was
transferred to London. In addition to
the former commissioners were now added
Messrs Robert Blair, Robert Baillie, and
George Gillespie, three of the brightest
ornaments of the church, as chaplains to
the three noblemen formerly nominated.
Great hopes were entertained by the friends
of the church in England, that something
would now be done to restore peace to the
suffering presbyterians, and they were not
altogether disappointed.


EARL OF LOUDON.
4.11



In the following year, the king made
another tour to Scotland to be present at
a meeting of parliament, before which
Traquair, Montrose, and some other vio-
lent nobles had been cited to appear, for
stirring up strife between the king and his
subjects, and for tampering with the
Covenanters. Loudon, mindful of the
recommendation given him by his sovereign
the year before, interceded so warmly in be-
half of some of the accused, that, for a
time, suspicion went abroad that he had
changed sides. Nothing, however, was
farther from his heart. After the strictest
scrutiny into his conduct and motives for
such unprecedented liberality, the house
declared that he had conducted himself
faithfully and prudently in all his public
appointments, and that he not only merited
an act of approbation, but deserved besides
to be rewarded by the Estates. With
none of the Scots commissioners did the
English act so generously as with the earl,
and none of them, at any time, acted to-
wards the king with such candour as he
did. Once more, therefore, he was ap
pointed to go to London with the newly
revised treaty, subscribed by the lord-presi~
dent and others. Soon after this, by the
king’s special will, the noble earl was ap~
pointed chancellor, much against his own
inclination, and the solicitation of his
friends, who would have had him nominated l
to the office of lord-treasurer. Accord-
ingly, on the 2d October, 1642, his lord-
ship was installed into office, when the
great seal, which had been kept by the
marquis of Hamilton for two years, was,
with the mace, delivered to him out of his
majesty’s own hand, after having taken
lord—president, from which he immediately
rose, and, falling upon his knee before the
king, said :—“ Promotion cometh neither
from the east nor from the west, but from
God alone. I acknowledge that I have
received this from your majesty, as God’s
vicegerent upon earth, and the fountain of
all earthly honour in this kingdom, and I
will endeavour to answer the expectation
your majesty looks for, and to deserve the
good will of this honourable house, in
faithfully discharging what you both, with-
out any merit on my part, have imposed
upon me.”-- How altered the scene !—-Only
a few short months previous he .had re-
ceived from the sovereign the sentence of
death, for the cause of Christ and his
church; and now, by the same authority,
he is intrusted with the helm of the highest
afi’airs in the kingdom. True it is,——“ The
fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,
and before honour is humility.”
Loudon began now to exert himself for
the welfare of the church and nation ; and,
as the most expedient way to bring about
a firm and lasting peace between the two
kingdoms, he earnestly importuned Charles
to call together his English parliament.
In 1645, he was unremitting in his endea-
vours to establish that happy uniformity in
doctrine, discipline, and church-govern~
ment, which then took place; and, in the
following year, he accosted the king in the
following terms :-—“ The difference between
your majesty and your parliament is grown
to such a height, that, after many bloody
battles, they have your majesty, with all

the oath of allegiance, and* de fideli ad-
ministratione Ojicii. As soon as this cere~ mony was over, he was placed in a seat at '
his majesty’s feet, on the right of the
your garrisons and strongholds, in their
hands. They are in a capacity now to do
what they will, in church and state; and
some are afraid, and others unwilling
to proceed to extremities, till they know
your majesty’s final resolution. Now,
Sire, if your majesty refuse to assent to
. what is proposed, you will lose all your
' Faithful discharge of duty.
l friends in the house and in the city, and


4.12
SCOTS WORTHIES.





all England will unite against you as one
man—they will depose you, and establish
another government—they will compel us
to deliver up your majesty to them, and
remove our arms out of England; and,
upon your refusal, we shall be obliged to
settle religion, and make peace without
you, which will ruin your majesty and
your posterity. We confess that the pro—
posals are, in some points, not to our mind;
but the only method for your majesty to
adopt is, to consent to them at present.
Your majesty may recover, in time of peace,
all that you have lost in a time of tempest
and trouble.”
In 1648, he was again employed on a
similar errand, but with no better success ;
and in the same year, in the month of
June, he was attacked by the troops under
the command of Calender and Middleton,
when at a communion on Mauchline moor,
with a handful of Covenanters, after these
gentlemen had given him their promise to
the contrary.
A new scene of affairs began to appear
in 1650, and darker days than ever seemed
to await the suffering church. Charles I.
had been put to death—the Scots had re-
called his son Charles II.——the malignants
had got into place and power—and, under
all these circumstances, Loudon felt it
necessary to resign his offices, being un-
able to breathe in such a pestilential at-
mosphere. He had presided in parliament
for nearly ten years, and, under God, had
been instrumental in establishing, both in
church and state, the purest reformation-
that had been ever wrought in any country
under the New Testament dispensation.
How he had been employed during Crom-
well’s usurpation we are not accurately
informed; but it is probable, that like
most of the gentlemen of the day, he lived
in a state of comparative seclusion.
No sooner was the king restored to his
paternal dominions, than persecution of the ,


most violent nature began to rage ; and it
is therefore impossible to express the grief
which this godly nobleman experienced,
when he beheld not only the carved work
of the sanctuary broken down, which he
had had such an eminent hand in directing
and building up ; but when he found him~
self at the mercy of his sovereign for the
part he had taken. He was well aware
that, next to the marquis of Argyle, he
was the butt of the enemy’s malice; for
he had repeatedly applied for his majesty’s
good graces, and had been as often refused.
Life began now to be a burden to him,
and he longed to depart. He often exhorted
his excellent lady to pray fast, that he might
not see the next session of parliament, else
he might follow his dear friend, the marquis
of Argyle, and the Lord was pleased to
grant his request; for he died at Edinburgh,
on the 15th of March, 1652, before the
convocation of parliament.
The merits of this excellent nobleman,
renowned patriot, and faithful servant of
the Lord Jesus Christ, far exceed human
eulogy. With the exception of an error
into which he was led through the influ-
ence of the earl of Lanark, his reputation
was without blemish. But no sooner was
his mistake pointed out to him, than he
repented sincerely, and in the true spirit of
christian contrition subscribed an admoni-
tion to more diligent watchfulness, to which
he ever after most religiously adhered.
In the senate he was a consummate
orator; in political, social, and domestic
life, he was a safe pattern of imitation;
and, as a member of the church of Christ,
the honour of his divine Master was his
chief aim and end. To the support of our
ancient and admirable constitution, both in
church and state, he invariably applied his
excellent endowments, with such unwearied
zeal, that he might not improperly be
called the chief advocate, both for the civil
and religious liberties of the people. VVhat—y,


ROBERT BAILLIE.




was wanting in the full measure of his own i that there are instances, not of an ancient
sufferings, was meted out for his son, James
earl of Loudon,who died in exile at Leyden,
for his attachment to the same glorious‘

date, of the same noble and independent
spirit for civil and religious liberty, in that
family of which J OHN, earl of Loudon, was
cause. And it is pleasant to remark here, I such a distinguished ornament.

ROBERT BAILLIE.

THE subject of this brief but interesting
memoir was a native of Glasgow. He
was born in the year 1599, and was a
lineal descendant of the Baillies of J ervis-
ton, a member of the house of Carphin,
and a branch of the ancient family of
Lamington, all in the county of Lanark.’ By
the mother’s side he was descended from
the well-known Gibsons of Durie. At the
university of Glasgow, where he received
his education, he is said to have been so
remarkably studious, as to have acquired
a knowledge of twelve or thirteen lan-
guages, and to have been capable of writ-
ing Latin with such classical purity and
elegance, as would not have disgraced the
age of Augustus.
After having completed the study of '
divinity, he received license from Archbishop
Law, and soon after was presented to the
living of Kilwinning by the earl of Eglin-
ton. At the commencement of the Re-
formation, in 1637, he laboured under con-
siderable doubts in regard to what party
he should attach himself; but at length,
after much meditation, reading, and prayer,
he cordially embraced the doctrine and
discipline ofthe Covenanters—and, being a a
man of a sound judgment, he was much
employed in the business of the church.‘
In 1638, he was chosen to represent the .
presbytery of Irvine in the memorable;3
Assembly of that year, at Glasgow, where _

he conducted himself with great wisdom
and moderation. He was also one of those
who accompanied the army as chaplains,
in 1639 and 1640, and was present during
the whole time of the treaty begun at
Rippon, and concluded at London. YVhat
mental enjoyment he experienced at that
time may be best described in his own
language :—“ As for myself, I never felt
my mind in a better temper than it was
all that time, from my outset until my
head was again homeward. I was one
who had taken leave of the world, and had
resolved to die in that service. I found
the favour of God shining on me, and a
sweet, meek, and humble, yet strong and
vehement spirit, leading me along.” In
the year following he was sent to London
to frame an accusation against archbishop
Laud, for the innovations he had attempted
to obtrude upon the church.
From Kiln/‘inning he was translated to
the chair of divinity in the college of
Glasgow, about the year 1650. He, too,
was one of the commissioners sent to \Vest-
minster to assist in framing the church
standards ; and so highly estimated were his
services, that when that Assembly rose, the
English parliament presented him with a
testimonial of silver plate, with a suitable in-
scription, in consideration of his talents and
integrity. This testimonial is said to be
in possession of the family of Carnbroe.



. 1)...._ _. W ,

414
SCOTS WORTHIES.





By his first wife, Baillie had one son
and four daughters ; and by his second, one
daughter, who was married to Walkinshaw
of Barrowfield.
He lived upon the most friendly terms
with the marquis of Argyle; the earls of
Cassilis, Eglinton, Lauderdale, and Lou-
don; lord Balmerino, lord Warriston, and
the chief men among the covenanting
party; by which intercourse he obtained
the most accurate knowledge of all public
transactions. Through the interest of
lord Lauderdale he succeeded to the
principality of the college of Glasgow,
upon the death of Mr Patrick Gillespie;
and, it is said, he was offered a bishopric
about the same time. This, however, he
refused, continuing firm in his adherence
to Presbytery till the end of his life. In
the biography prefixed to his Letters, the
writer insinuates that his rejection of the
offer arose chiefly fi'om an aversion to
differ from those with whom he had
formerly lived in habits of intimacy; but a
few extracts fi~om one of his letters to lord
Lauderdale, a short time before his death,
will exhibit the matter in its true light :—
“ Having the occasion of this bearer, I tell
you my heart is broken with grief, and I
find the burden of the public weighty, and
hastening me to my grave. What need
you do that disservice to the king which
all of you cannot recompense, to grieve
the hearts of all your godly friends in
Scotland, with pulling down all our laws
at once, which concerned our church since
1633? Was this good advice, or will it
thrive? Is it wise to bring back upon us
the Canterburian times, the same designs,
the same practices? Will they not bring on
the same effects, whatever fools may dream?
~-My lord, you are the nobleman in all
the world I love best, I esteem most. I
think I may say I write to you what I
please. If you have gone with your
heart to forsake your covenant—to coun-

tenance the reintroduction of bishops and
books, and strengthen the king by your
advice in these things, I think you a
prime transgressor, and liable among the
first to answer for that great sin,” &c. As
a further refutation of such an insinuation,
when the archbishop came to visit Baillie
upon his deathbed, he would not eveh
address him by the title of “ My lord.”
Nay, so very seriously did he lay to heart
the introduction of prelacy, that only a
very few weeks before his death—May lst
1662—-in a letter to a near relative, he
says :—“ The guise is now, the bishops
will trouble no man; but the states will
punish seditious ministers. This poor
church is in the most hard taking that
ever we have seen. This is my daily grief;
this hath brought all my'bodily trouble on
me, and is like to do me more harm.” In
the month of July following, he departed
this life, aged 63 years.
For his profound and general learning,
accurate and solid judgment, Baillie may
very justly be reckoned one of the great men
of his time; but, alas ! great and good as he
certainly was, he showed himself not to be
altogether capable of resisting the prejudice
of human passion. To some of those
worthy men to whom he ascribes the
highest praise for their instrumentality in
carrying on the work of reformation, be-
twixt the year 1638 and 1649,11e after-
wards imputes the most unworthy motives,
when they became remonstrants; taking all
the divisions and calamities that befell the
church, the state, and the army, to proceed
from the protesters not concurring with
the party with whom he acted; whereas,
to every reflecting mind it will appear to
be exactly the reverse. The last ten years
of his otherwise excellent history, published
under the title of “ Baillie’s Letters,” must
therefore be received with extreme caution.
Baillie was of the party called resolu-
tioners, and is even said to have composed


DAVID DICKSON.
415


some of the papers belonging to that body,T
in 1661; and therefore, it is not to be
wondered at, that the protesters could not
bind their consciences to the arbitrary dic-
tates of the opposite party. They could
not lightly violate their solemnly sworn
covenant by approving of the admission of
such characters as Charles II., and his
wicked faction, into the bosom of the church,
—-in defence of which covenant many of
them faced the gibbet, suffered banishment,
and endured imprisonment with all its at-
tendant horrors; while it is well known
that several hundreds of the resolutioners
afterwards apostatized most shamefully, and
even became violent persecutors of those

who, for conscience’ sake, were faithful
unto the death.
In erudition, Baillie may, nevertheless,
be very justly esteemed an honour to his
country. Among his multitudinous writ-
ings may be mentioned his Scripture
Chronology, written in Latin; his Can-
terburian Self—Conviction; his Parallel, or
Comparison of the Liturgy with the Mass-
Book; his Dissuasion against the Errors
of the Times, besides his Historical Papers
and Letters. He also wrote Laudensium,
an article against Arminianism; a Re-
ply to the Modest Inquirer, with other
Tracts, and several Sermons on other
occasions.

DAVID DICKSON.

THIS intrepid servant of God was the only
son of Mr John Dickson, merchant in
Glasgow, who was a feuar of some lands
in the barony of Fintry, called the Kirk
of the Moor, in the parish of St Ninians.
He is said to have been born about the year
1583. His parents were several years
married before his birth; and, being ar-
dently devoted to religion, the subject of this
memoir was early set apart for the ministry.
It would appear that they had, afterwards,
in a great measure, fallen from this reso-
lution, until Providence visited their son
with a severe fever, and brought to their
remembrance the vow which they had
formerly made. Upon his recovery, there-
fore, he was sent to resume his studies at
the college of Glasgow.
After taking his degree of Master of
Arts, he was appointed to teach philosophy
in the University; at which time he, prin-
cipal Boyd of Trochrigg, and Mr Blair,
were singularly fclicitous in reviving piety

l
among the youth, which, from the time
that prelacy had been imposed upon the
church, had fallen sadly into decay. In
1618, Dickson was ordained minister of
Irvine, where he laboured with great
fidelity for about twenty-three years.
Upon his first entrance to the ministry
he had no great aversion to episcopacy;
but after the “ Five Articles of Perth” were
passed, and he began to turn his mind
seriously to the subject, the more he studied
them, he was satisfied of their papistical
origin. At length, after recovering from
a dangerous illness, he gave open testimony
to their sinfulness.
No sooner was archbishop Law informed
of this, than he summoned Dickson to
compear before the High Commission
Court on the ninth of January, 1622.
The archbishop told him that he had been
ordered by the king to take cognizance
why he had not obeyed the Perth Articles,
and why he had been so active in




416
SCOTS WORTHIES.



endeavouring to prevent the legislature
from enforcing the observance of these
Articles. Dickson said, the chief reason
why he did not obey them was, because
he saw no reason wherefore they should
he commanded; that in all matters which
concern the worship of God, there must
be a sufficient scriptural reason for the
injunction of these; but, if not, a man
might lawfully refuse to give obedience ;--
that he found he could not with a safe
conscience yield compliance, and therefore
he was ready, by the grace of God, to suffer
whatever flesh and blood could do to him.
After submitting with exemplary patience
to a great many scurrilous taunts fi'om the
bishops, and being asked whether he would
obey the king or not, he replied,—“ I will
obey the king in all things in the Lord!”
“ Itold you so,” said Law, ‘ ‘I knew he would
answer with a limitation.” Spottiswood,
contemptuously staring him in the face,
said,-—“ These men will talk of humility
and meekness, and of the Spirit of God;
but they are led by the spirit of the devil—
there is more pride in you, than in all the
bishops of Scotland. I hanged a Jesuit
in Glasgow for the like fault.”—Dickson
very coolly replied,—“ I am not a rebel; I
stand here as the king’s subject; all I de-
mand is the benefit of the law, and the
right of a subject; I crave no more!”
After all they could advance, he continued
inflexible; whereupon sentence of deposi-
tion was pronounced against him, and he
was ordered to enter himself in ward, at
T ureff, in the north, within twenty days.
Dickson heard his sentence unmoved, and
calmly replied——“ The will of the Lord be
done !—though you cast me off, the Lord
will take me up,--send me whither ye will,
I hope my Master will go with me; and
as ‘He has been with me hitherto, he will
be with his own weak servant still!”
He continued to preach, nevertheless,
till the twenty days were expired; after


which he began to prepare for his journey.
But the Earl of Eglinton had prevailed
upon the bishop of Glasgow to allow him to
come and preach at Eglinton. In conse~
quence, however, of the vast crowds that
flocked to hear him from all quarters, he
enjoyed that liberty only two months, when
the bishop sent him another charge, and
ordered him to repair without delay to his
place of confinement.
After he had been for a considerable
time in Tureff, where he was much em~
ployed in preaching the word, his friends
prevailed upon the bishop of Glasgow to
restore him to his flock, upon condition he
would recall his declinature; and upon
being invited, he accordingly came to
Glasgow. To persuade him to compliance,
however, was found impossible; although
the conditions were so modified, as to re-
quire him merely to go to the bishop’s
house, and either lift the paper, or permit
a friend to take it off the. table, without
even seeing the bishop; and thus, by so
doing, he would be at liberty to return to
Irvine. His honest soul spurned the idea,
and he chose rather to go back to his con-
finement. And such was the testimony
of the Spirit to his honourable conduct,
that he had not proceeded above a mile
out of town, when he experienced great
joy, and a sense of the divine approbation,
at the manner in which he had conducted
himself.
Some time after, however, through the
unwearied intercession of the earl of Eglin-
ton, and the parishioners of Irvine, he was
permitted to return and exercise his min-
istry until the king himself should chal-
lenge him. This took place about the end
of July, 1623.
His labours in that parish were singu-
larly blessed, and many, by his instrumen-
tality, were brought to a knowledge of the
truth as it is in Jesus. Besides his own
parishioners, many attended his ministry









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DAVID DIOKSON.
417


from other quarters, especially those who
were under the tuition of the Spirit, and
were labouring under concern about their
spiritual and eternal welfare. The com-
munions at Irvine, in Dickson’s day, were
seasons of great refreshing from the pre-
sence of the Lord; yet, in the exercise of
genuine humility, he remarked,-—“ that
the vintage of Irvine was not equal to the
gleanings of Ayr in Mr Welch’s time.”
In addition to his public stated labours
on sabbaths, the evenings of that day were
generally taken up in conversing with
serious persons; in administering consola-
tion to those who were labouring under
doubt; and in affording direction to those
who were seeking the way to Zion, with
their faces thitherward. He had generally
sermon on Monday too, which, being the
weekly market, was numerously attended.
It is remarkable, that although episcopacy
was very prevalent at that time, serious
practical religion flourished greatly among
the presbyterians all over the west of
Scotland.
From 1630 till 1637, Dickson’s manse
was a house of refuge to many of his poor
persecuted brethren in the ministry; but
especially to those unhappy men in Ireland,
who, during that period, had been deposed,
ejected, and hunted down like beasts of
prey, by the Irish bishops.
In 1637, Dickson prevailed upon the pres-
bytery of Irvine to petition for the suppres-
sion of the Service-Book, who, being joined
by other three deputations from different
quarters, laid the foundation of that happy
change of affairs which soon afterward
took place; and, it is worthy of observa~
tion, that these four different bodies, un-
known to each other, all met at the
Council house door, upon the same errand.
Dickson was one of the party sent to
Aberdeen, to persuade that town and
county to join in renewing the covenant——

learned doctors Forbes, Barrow, and Sib~
bald, the result of whose debates is well-
known. In the General Assembly, too,
at Glasgow, in November, 1638, he signa-
lized himself very remarkably, by a season-
able and judicious speech, when his ma-
jesty’s commissioner threatened to leave
the Assembly; and also by a most learned
discourse against Arminianism at the
eleventh sederunt, on the15th of December.if
By this time the fame of his ministry,
and his singular prudence, learning, and
holy zeal, had spread so much among his
brethren, that he was. chosen, almost un_
animously, moderator of the next Assembly,
in 1639 ; on the tenth sederunt of which, a
call from the city of Glasgow was pre-
sented to him; but partly, in consequence
of his own unwillingness to accept, and
the strenuous opposition of the earl of
Eglinton and his own parishioners, and
especially on account of his usefulness in
that quarter, the Assembly thought it ad-
visable to continue him in his charge.
Not long after, however, he was removed
to the divinity chair in that university,
where he was particularly successful in
training young men for the church; and
where, for some time, he enjoyed the col~
legiate assistance of Mr Patrick Gillespie,
as minister of the High Church.
In 1643, the General Assembly nomi~
nated Dickson, Calderwood, and Hender.
son, as a triumvirate, to draw out a Di-
rectory for Public Worship—and, four years
after, when a deadly epidemic pervaded
Glasgow, he found it necessary to remove,
. with the young people under his charge,
to Irvine, which was uninfected. It was
there the learned Durham passed his trials,
and was earnestly recommended by the
professor to the presbytery and magistrates
of Glasgow; and by these two celebrated
" See the first in Stevenson's History, p. 562;
and there he came in contact with the i and the last in the Assembly Journal-
36
418
SCOTS WORTHIES.



divines was composed “ The Sum of Sav-
ing Knowledge,” a small treatise which is
generally bound up along with the Con--
fession of Faith, &c.
About this time he was removed to the
theological chair in the university of Edin-
burgh, where he soon after published his
“ Praelectiones in Confessionem Fidei,”*
which he delivered to the students in
Latin; but which is now translated into
English. His assiduity in the metropolitan
college was no less conspicuous than at
Glasgow; and it is even said, that either
here or in the Western University, he had
under his tuition the greater part of the
presbyterian clergymen, afterwards settled
in the west, south, and east parts of Scot-
land, from 1640. He had also a principal
share in the printed pamphlets betwixt the
resolutioners and protesters, about the years
1650, and 1651. His own sentiments
coincided with those of the resolutioners.
Dickson continued at Edinburgh, dis-
charging his duties with great diligence
and fidelity, until the unhappy reintroduc-
tion of episcopacy, upon the restoration of
Charles II., when, for refusing the oath of
supremacy,he and many others were turned
out of their livings. From that period his
constitution began to give way rapidly,
induced by a depression of spirits, on ac-
count of the sufferings which he saw were
preparing for the church.
Dickson was now encumbered with the
cares of a family. He had married Mar-
garet Robertson, daughter to Archibald
Robertson of Stonehall, in the county of
Lanark, by whom he had three sons; John,
clerk to the exchequer court of Scotland;
Alexander, professor of Hebrew, in the
college of Edinburgh; and Archibald, who
lived with his family afterwards in the
parish of Irvine. In the month of Decem-
ber, 1662, when on his death-bed, he was
Lectures on the Confession of Faith.

visited by Mr Livingstone, on his way to
his place of exile, to whom he said, in
answer to an interrogatory upon the state
of affairs :--“ That he was sure Jesus
Christ would not put up with the indigni-
ties done to his work and people,”—and
added,“ I have taken all my good deeds
and all my bad deeds, and have cast them
together in a heap before the Lord, and
have fled from both to Jesus Christ, and
in him I have sweet peace!”-—-Having been
very low for some days, he called all his
family together, and addressed each of
them individually; after which, having
pronounced the apostolic blessing with
great earnestness and solemnity, he lifted
up his hands, closed his own eyes, and,
without any struggle, or apparent pain,
immediately expired in the arms of one
of his sons. Like Jacob of old, he was
gathered to his people in a good old age,
being then upwards of 7 2 years.
Many memorable things are recorded
of this excellent man, who was ever on the
alert to promote his Master’s work, whether
“ in season or out of season,”—one or two
of which we may perhaps be excused for
mentioning in this narrative.
Riding, upon one occasion, between
Glasgow and Edinburgh, he was attacked
by robbers, when, instead of giving place
to fear for his personal safety, he, with the
greatest self-command, addressed them re-
garding their immortal souls; and, it is
said, was, under God, the happy instrument
of their conversion—Mr James Mitchell,
a very serious Christian, near Irvine, also,
when speaking of the eminent gift which
Dickson possessed for spiritual conversa-
tion, says of him :—-—“ I happened once to
travel fi~om Glasgow to Falkirk, in com-
pany with Mr Dickson; and having taken
occasion, fi~om the brightness of the day,
to speak of the glories of heaven, he, after
relating his own experiences, proceeded to
show how men’s own righteousness is often


LORD WARRISTO N.
419



a bar in their way of believing the gospel
of Christ, and to prove, from the first part
of the epistle to the Romans, that nothing
but justification, through the righteousness
of Christ, was suited to our sinful and
miserable state by nature,——that it was the
only way to pacify our consciences and
reconcile us to God, fill us with joy, pro-
mote our true sanctification of nature and
life, and make us triumph over the accu-
sations of Satan and the fears of death-—
0 how his discourse, especially as I caused
him repeat it, penetrated into my heart!”
His sermons were always replete With
solid and edifying matter, very scriptural,
and in a plain, homely style; bearing a
strong resemblance to those of the cele-
brated Rutherford. It was said, that no
minister of that day was so popular, ex-
cept Mr William Guthrie, of F enwick,
who at least equalled Dickson, if he did
not go beyond him.
His works are numerous.
The chief of
l
these are, A Commentary on the Epistle
to the Hebrews; on the Gospel of Mat-
thew; on the Psalms of David; on the
Epistles, in Latin and English; Prcelec-
tiones in Confessionem Fidez', or Truth’s
Victory over Error; Therapeutica Sacra,
or Cases of Conscience resolved, in Latin;
and a Treatise on the Promises. He
wrote also some short poems on pious
subjects, viz., The Christian Sacrifice, and
True Christian Love, intended as an addi-
tion to the Psalmody. Besides these he
left several other Works in manuscript :—
Tyrones concionaturi; Summarium libri
Isaz'ce ; Letters on the Resolutioners;
Replies to Messrs Gillespie and Guthrie ;
Non-separation fi"om the well affected in
the Army; Sermons at Irvine upon 1 Tim.
i. 5; Precepts for the Daily Direction of
a Christian, by way of Catechism; with a
Compend of his Sermons upon Jeremiah
and the Lamentations; and the first nine
chapters to the‘Romans.

SIR ARCHIBALI) JOHNSTON, LORD WARRISTON.

COMPARATIVELY little is known of the early
history of very many of our most distin-
guished reformers, until the strife of the
times brought them into the arena of public
contest; and so it is with the distinguished
nobleman whose name we now introduce.
The active part he took commenced about
the beginning of the second Reformation,
in 1638, when he and lord Balmerino
were commissioned by the Covenanters, to
present to the king a petition which they
themselves had drawn, in opposition to the

iburgesses, and ministers.
\
l
r
l

a proclamation at Edinburgh and Stirling,
against all their requisitions ; when J ohn-
ston—afterwards lord W'arriston—pro-
tested against their proceedings, in his own
name, and in those of sixteen noblemen,with
a number of barons, private gentlemen,
In the same
year, the marquis of Hamilton published
another declaration in the king’s name,
which was followed by another protest in
the same place, which Johnston handed
to his majesty’s herald at the Cross of
hostile measures which the earl of Tra-
Edinburgh. Upon this occasion the earl
quair was persuading his majesty to adopt. , of Cassilis stood forward in name of the
The prayer of the petition having been nobility; Gibson of Durie in that of the
refiised, Charles caused Traquair to publish barons; Fletcher provost of Dundee, ap-
W
4,20
SCOTS WORTHIES.






peared for the burgesses; and Kerr, min-
ister of Preston, for the church. John-
ston, to make the matter as secure and
public as possible, took instruments in the
hands of three notaries.
At the General Assembly, in the month
of November of the same year, Johnston
was unanimously elected clerk, in conside-
ration of his former gratuitous services,
when, having taken the oath dc fideli, he
was admitted to all the rights, profits, and
privileges, which that office had previously
enjoyed. Having been thus installed, the
moderator requested that all who had any
Acts or books of former Assemblies, would
put them into his hands; upon which the
former clerk handed in two, containing
A cts from 15 92 to that of Aberdeen, in 1 613 ;
and Johnston produced five, containing
documents sufficient for drawing up a his-
tory of the church from the beginning of
the Reformation,-—a circumstance which
was at that time greatly’ valued by the
Assembly, and which has been the means
of transmitting to posterity a faithful re-
cord of the tyrannous proceedings of the
government of the day. In the same
Assembly he was appointed procurator
for the church. To him was intrusted the
framing of all treaties and papers that
concerned the church; and all printers
were prohibited from publishing the same,
without a license under his hand.
Enraged at these and other proceedings
of the Assembly, the king advanced with
an army towards the borders; and the
Covenanters, not to be behind hand, did
the same. The result of this meeting has
been already detailed in the life of the earl
of Loudonff To make amends for a slight,
Johnston was raised to knighthood, in
the parliament of 1641, at the time when
Argyle was appointed to the treasury, and
Loudon to the office of chancellor. At
‘F See page 410.

the same time he was nominated one of
the lords of Session, with an annual pen-
sion of £200.
During this and the following year, lord
Warriston was appointed to several im-
portant offices. He was one of those se-
lected to watch over the articles of peace
between the two kingdoms, until the meet-
ing of parliament; besides being one of
the commissioners sent to London to nego-
tiate with the English parliament, for
sending assistance from Scotland to Ire-
land, immediately after the unhappy re-
bellion, in that country, which had shared
in the general agitation.
In 1643, the General Assembly having
met at Edinburgh, they, upon the motion
of lord Warriston, emitted the following
declaration, joining with the English par-
liament :—-“ 1. They apprehended that the
war was on account of religion. 2. That
the protestant faith was in danger. 3.
That gratitude for assistance, during the
former Reformation, required a suitable
return. 4. Because the churches of Scot-
land and England being embarked in one
cause,-—if one should be worsted, the other
could not prosper. 5. That the prospect
of uniformity between the two kingdoms,
in discipline and worship, would strengthen
the protestant interest, both at home and
abroad. 6. That the present parliament
had been friendly to the Scots, and might
be so again. 7. That though the king
had so lately established religion among
them, according to their desire, yet they
could not confide in his royal declaration,
having so often found his promises and
performances completely at variance.”
These declarations the estates held in good
part, and suggested others as they saw it
to be expedient.
In pursuance of this, upon the arrival
of commissioners from the parliament and
Assembly at Westminster, the General
Assembly, by an Act of sederunt, commis-






LORD WARRISTON.
421



sioned five ministers, and three ruling
elders, to repair to the kingdom of
England, among whom was lord Warris-
ton. His lordship not only used all dili-
gence as a member of the Westminster
Assembly, for bringing about uniformity
of religion in worship, discipline, and
government; but also sat, for some time,
as a member of the English parliament,
concerting such measures as might tend
to establish a firm and lasting peace be-
tween the two kingdoms. This, however,
was afterwards brought against him as an
act of high treason.
In 1646, he was appointed lord-advocate
of Scotland, with the direction of the com-
mittee of London and Newcastle, and of
the general ofiicers in the army. He had
been clerk to the General Assembly since
1638 ; but in 1650, when the Act of classes
was repealed, and the malignants once
more got into places of power and trust,
lordWarriston took part with the protesters,
and had a principal hand in managing their
affairs. All his movements were now sedu-
lously watched, and spies were set upon his
actions wherever he went. A letter which
he had written to an Assembly held at St
Andrews, on the 18th of July, 1651, was
suppressed; and though it was ascertained
to have been delivered into the hands of
the moderator, and by him opened in order
to its being read, yet it could never after-
wards be obtained, though called for upon
several occasions, and at several diets.
For upwards of five years lord VVarris-
ton had now acted for the king’s interest,
and had both spoken and written against
his countrymen taking office under the
Usurper ; yet, from a want of self-com-
mand, he himself was induced to accept of
the office of clerk-register, under Crom-
well,-—a step, however, which he continued
to regret till the day of his death. W'od-
row relates, that at the meeting held in
Edinburgh, which sent him to London, he

opposed it with all his eloquence, acquaint-
ing them with what was his weak side;
and that, through the easiness of his tem-
per, he might not be able to ‘resist impor-
tunity—yet, after all, he was peremptorily
named.
To account for his compliance, it may
be observed :-—-His family Was numerous;
considerable sums of money were owing
him, which he had advanced for the public
service, besides several years’ salary; and
thus, no other door being open for his
relief, he might be the more easily flattered
into acquiescence. It was remarked, how-
ever, that he was generally sad and melan-
choly afterward, and that his worldly af-
fairs did not flourish so well as before.
In 1660, Charles having been restored
to his dominions while the marquis of
Argyle was in prison, a royal mandate
came down to apprehend Sir James Stuart,
provost of Edinburgh, Sir Archibald J ohn-
ston of Warriston, and Sir John Chiesly
of Carswell. Lord Warriston, however,
escaped for a time, and therefore was sum-
moned, by sound of trumpet, to surrender
himself; and a proclamation was issued,
offering £100 Scots for his person, dis-
charging and prohibiting, at the same time,
all persons from harbouring or concealing
him, upon pain of treason. On the 10th
of October following, he was declared a
fugitive by the council, and, on the 1st of
February thereafter, an indictment was
read against him, W'illiam Dundas, and
John Hume, in their absence. \Varris-
ton’s estate was therefore declared to be
forfeited, and public proclamation of the
same was made at the Cross of Edinburgh.
The principal counts in his indictment were:
——“ His pleading against Newton Gordon,
when he had the king’s express orders to
plead for him,—assisting in the Act of the
West Kirk,—drawing out, contriving, or
consenting to, the paper called the W'estern
Remonstrance, and the book called Causes


422
scoTs won'rnms.







__~ ~7-

of God’s Wrath—sitting in parliament as
a peer in England, contrary to his oath,—
accepting the office of clerk-register from
the Usurper,—-and, being president of the
committee of safety when Richard Crom-
well was laid aside.”
“None of all these, however,” says
VVodrow, “were the real causes of this
good man’s sufferings. A personal pre-
judice and pique were at the bottom of all
these bitter proceedings; for, the goodly
freedom he took, in reproving vice, was
what could never be forgotten or forgiven.
I have an account of the holy freedom
lord Warriston used, from a reverend
minister who was his chaplain at that time,
and took liberty to advise Warriston not
to adventure upon it: yet this excellent
person, having the glory of God and the
honour of religion more in his eyes than
his own safety, went on in his designed re-
proof, and could not, for a compliment,
quit the peace he expected in his own
conscience, be the event what it would, by
disburdening himself. He got a great
many fair words, and it was pretended to
be taken well from my lord register; but,
as he was told by his wellwishers, it was
never forgot.”
In the matter of compliance with Crom-
well, lord Warriston was not alone,—the
greater part of the nation being involved
as well as himself. Many who had held
office under Cromwell had been discharged
by the court; but it was reserved for him
and the marquis of Argyle,--stern re-
provers of vice, and uncompromising friends
of Presbytery,—to seal the testimony of
Jesus with their blood.
After sentence of forfeiture and death
had been passed against him, he went
abroad, to escape the persecution of his
enemies; but their malice pursued him; for,
having been taken ill at Hamburgh, it was
said that Dr Bates, one of king Charles’
physicians, administered poison to him,

and took from him about sixty ounces of
blood, with the intention of finishing his
existence. The excellence of his constitu-
tion, however, triumphed over the murder-
ous attempt; but his memory was ever
after so much impaired, that he could not
remember what he had either said or done,
above the short space of a quarter of an
hour.
His recovery, however, only whetted
the appetite of his bloodthirsty enemies;
for they caught him soon after, at Roanne,
in France, whither he had gone unad-
visedly. He was taken when engaged in
prayer, by a person called Murray, whom
the government had despatched in quest
of him. In January, 1663, he was brought
over prisoner, and committed to the Tower
of London, where he was detained till the
month of June, when he was sent down to
Edinburgh to be executed. During his
passage, his conduct was truly Christian;
but his nephew, bishop Burnet, says, “ he
was so disordered both in body and mind,
that it was a reproach to any government
to proceed against him.” The vessel ar-
rived at Leith on the 8th of that month,
and he was brought, from the tolbooth of
Edinburgh, before the parliament, on the
8th of July.
While at the bar of the house, he dis-
covered such weakness of memory and
judgment, that all pitied him, with the
exception of Sharp and the other bishops.
Many of the members would have spared
his life; but Lauderdale stirred up the
house to get rid of him, by delivering a
vehement speech, urging his speedy exe-
cution. Sentence was accordingly pro-
nounced:—“ That he be hanged at the
Cross of Edinburgh, on the 22d of July,
and his head placed on the Nether
Bow, beside that of Guthrie.” Warriston
heard his sentence with meekness and
composure; and, in return for the cruelty
of his enemies, prayed that, whatever


LORD WARRISTO N.
423




might befall himself, his best blessings
might be on church and state, and on ' his
majesty—and that God would give him
honest and faithful counsellors.
During the whole of his imprisonment,
his mind was in a tender and spiritual
frame; and the nearer his death ap-
proached, his composure became the more
conspicuous. The night previous to his
execution he slept soundly, and in the
morning he was fiill of consolation, express-
ing his assurance of being clothed in a
long white robe, and of having put into
his mouth a new song in praise of God and
of the Lamb. Before noon he dined
cheerfully, enraptured at the thought of
being so near the end of his journey.
After having spent some time in secret
prayer, he was taken from prison about
two o’clock, attended by several of his
friends in mourning, although he himself
was full of holy cheerfulness and courage,
and in perfect serenity of mind. As he
drew near the scaffold, he called repeatedly
to the people, “Your prayers, your prayers !”
and having set foot on it, he said:-—“ I
entreat you, quiet yourselves a little, till
this dying man deliver his last speech
amongyou !” He then begged of them not to
be offended at his reading what he had to
say; for his memory had almost entirely
failed, in consequence. of long sickness, and
bad treatment from his physicians; after
which he read his speech, first on one
side of the scaffold, and then on the other;
premising, that what he had intended to
speak was not now in his power, as it had
been taken from him ; but hoping that the
Lord would preserve it to be his Testimony.
After he had finished his solemn and
affecting address, he prayed with great
fervour and enlargement of soul; and,
being as it were in'an ecstasy, he began
thus :—“ Abba, Father! Accept this thy
poor sinful servant, coming unto thee!

Having taken leave of his friends, he
prayed again; after which he was assisted
in ascending the ladder; calling aloud, at the
same time :-—-“ Your prayers, your prayers!
Your prayers I desire in the name of the
Lord!” After he had reached the top of
the steps, he cried again in a loud voice:
—“ I beseech you all who are the people
of God, not to scare at suffering for the
interest of Christ, or stumble at anything
of this kind falling out in these days, but
be encouraged to suffer for him; for, I
assure you, in the name of the Lord, he
will bear your charges.” While the execu-
tioner was adjusting the rope upon his
neck, he repeated the same words, adding:
—-“ The Lord hath graciously comforted
me!” and when the same functionary asked
his forgiveness, he said :—“ The Lord for-
give thee, poor man!” and at the same
time gave him some money, desiring him
to do his duty, if he was ready; crying out:
-—“ O pray, pray! Praise, praise, praise!”
With these words he was thrown off, and
died almost without a struggle, with his
hands upraised towards heaven whither
his soul ascended, to enjoy the beatific
presence of his Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ.
After having hung for a little, he was
taken down, and his head having been
struck off, it was placed beside that of his
dear friend and fellow-martyr, Mr James
Guthrie. Soon after, however, through the
intercession of lieutenant-general Drum-
mond, his son-in-law, it was taken down
and interred with his body.
Thus lived and died the eminently pious
and learned lord Warriston, whose talents
as an orator, both in the senate and on the
bench, are too well known to require any
encomium here. Prayer was his delight;
and in that exercise he enjoyed sweet fel-
lowship and communion with his God and
Saviour. It was a frequent saying of his:
through the merits of Jesus Christ!” -—“ I dare never question my salvation,—


424
SCOTS WORTHIES.




I have so often seen God’s face in the
house of prayer I” One of his biographers
says concerning him:—-“ Although his
memory and talents were for some time
impaired; yet, like the sun at his setting,
after having been for a while under a
cloud, he shone forth most brightly and
surprisingly, and so, in some measure, the
more sweetly; for, on the morning of his
martyrdom, he was under an effusion of
the Spirit, as great, perhaps, as many since
the days of the Apostles.” I
He was in the habit of keeping a
regular diary, which is said to be still in
the possession of his relations, in which
is contained a valuable treasure, not only
of Christian experience, but also of the
political transactions of the times. In it
he records his sure hope, that the church
of Scotland would, after a series of sharp
visitations, be at length delivered from all
her sufferings.
TESTIMONY
OF
LORD WARRISTON.
Hz's Speech on the Scafi‘ola'.
“ Right honourable, much honoured, and
beloved auditors and spectators,-—that
which I intended and prepared to
speak at this time, and in this condition,
immediately before my death, is not at
present in my power, having been taken
from me: but I hope the Lord shall pre-
serve it to hear my testimony more fully
and clearly, than now I can in this con-
dition, having my memory much destroyed,
through much sore and long sickness,
melancholy, and excessive drawing of my
blood; though I bless the Lord my God,
that notwithstanding the forementioned
distempers, I am in some capacity to leave
this short and weak testimony.
“ 1st, I desire in the first place to con-


fess my sins, so far as is proper in this
place and case, and to acknowledge God’s
mercies; and to express my repentance of
the one, and my faith of the other, through
the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ our
gracious Redeemer and Mediator. I con-
fess that my natural temper has been sub-
ject to many excesses of heat, and thereby
to some precipitations, which hath no
doubt offended standers-by and lookers-on,
and hath exposed both me, and the work,
to their mistakes. I must withal confess,
that it doth not a little trouble me, and lie
heavy upon my spirit, and will bring me
down with sorrow to the grave (though I
was not alone in this offence, but had the
body of the nation going before me, and
the example of persons of all ranks to in-
snare me), that I suffered myself through
the power of temptations, and the too
much fear anent the straits that my nu-
merous family might be brought into, to be
carried unto so great a length of compli-
ance in England with the late Usurper,
which did much grieve the hearts of the
godly, and made these that sought God
ashamed and confounded for my sake, and
did give no small occasion to the adver-
sary to reproach and blaspheme, and did
withal not a little obscure and darken the
beauty of several former actings about his
blessed and glorious work of reformation.
happily begun, and far advanced in these
lands, wherein he was graciously pleased
to employ, and by employing, to honour me
to be an instrument (though the least and
unworthiest of many), whereof I am not
ashamed this day, but account it my glory,
however that work be now cried down,
opposed, laid in the dust, and trode upon.
And my turning aside to comply with these
men, was the more aggravated in my per-
son, that I had so frequently and seriously
made profession of my averseness from, and
abhorrence of, that way, and had shown
much dissatisfaction with these that had


LORD WARRISTON.
4125


not gone so great a length ; for which, as
I seek God’s mercy in Christ Jesus, so I
desire that all the Lord’s people, from
my example, may be more stirred up to
watch and pray, that they enter not into
temptation.
“ 2d. I am pressed in conscience to leave
here at my death, my true and honest
testimony in the sight of God and man, to
and for ‘the National Covenant; the Solemn
League and Covenant; the solemn acknow-
ledgment of our sins,’ and ‘ engagement to
our duties ;’ to all the ‘ grounds and causes
of fasts’ and humiliations, and of the
‘Lord’s displeasure’ and contending with
the land; and to the several ‘testimonies’
given to his interests, by General Assemblies,
commissions of the kirk, presbyteries, and
by other honest and faithful ministers and
professors.
“ 3d. I am also pressed to encourage his
doing, suffering, witnessing people, and
sympathizing ones with these that suffer,
that they would continue in the duties of
witnessing, mourning, praying, and sym-
pathizing with these that suffer, and hum-
bly to assure them in the name of the Lord
our God, the God of his own word and
work, of his own cause, covenant, and
people, that he will be seen, found, and
felt, in his own gracious way and time, by
his own means and instruments, for his
own glory and honour, to return to his
own truths, and interests, and servants, and
revive his name, his covenant, his word,
his work, his sanctuary, and his saints in
these nations, even in the three covenanted
nations which were by so solemn bonds,
covenants, subscriptions, and oaths, given
away and devoted unto himself.
“4th. I dare not conceal from you that
are friendly to all the Lord’s interests, that
the Lord (to the commendation of his
grace, be it humbly spoken) hath several
times, in the exercise of my repentance
and faith during my trouble, and after.

groans and tears upon these three notable
chapters, viz., the 9th of Ezra, the 9th
of Nehemiah, and the 9th of Daniel, with
other such suitable scriptures, and in the
very nick of fervent and humble supplica—
tion to him, for the reviving again of his
name, cause, covenant, word, and work of
reformation, in these covenanted nations,
and particularly in poor Scotland, which
first solemnly engaged to him, to the good
example and encouragement of his people,
in the other two nations, to do the same
also, that the Lord, I say, hath several
times given to me good ground of hope
and lively expectations of his merciful,
gracious, powerful, and wonderful renew-
ing and reviving again of his forementioned
great interests in these covenanted nations :
and that in such a way, by such means and
instruments, with such antecedents, con-
currents, consequents, and effects, as shall
wonderfully rejoice his mourning friends,
and astonish his contradicting and counter--
acting enemies.
“5th. I do earnestly beg the fervent
prayers of all his praying people, servants,
and instruments, whether absent or pre-
sent, wherever they be, in behalf of his
name, cause, and covenant-work, and peo-
ple; and in behalf of my wife, children,
and their posterity: and that the Lord
would glorify himself, edify his church.
encourage his saints, further his work,
accomplish his good word, by all his doings
and dealings, in substance and circum-
stance toward all his own.
“ 6th. Whereas I have heard, that some
of my unfriends have slandered and de-
famed my name, if I had been accessary
to his late majesty’s death, and to the
making of the change of government there-
upon; the great God of heaven be witness
and judge between me and my accusers in
this ;-for I am free (as I shall now answer
before his tribunal) from any accession, by
counsel or contrivance, or any other way,
I) ‘I
o) H


SCOTS WORTHIES.



to his late majesty’s death, or to their
making that change of government: and I
pray the Lord to preserve our present king
his majesty, and to pour out his best bless-
ings upon his royal posterity, and to give

unto them good and faithful counsellors,
holy and wise counsels, and prosperous
successes, to God’s glory, and to the good
and interest of his people, and to their own
, honour and happiness.”

JAMES
Woon.
THERE seems to be nothing on record
concerning this bright star of Presbytery,
previous to the year 1651; soon after
which, however, we find that he was made
principal of the college of St Salvador and
St Leonard, at St Andrews, and also one
of the ministers of the city. As Wood
favoured the views of the resolutioners,
there was unfortunately some difference
between him and Mr Samuel Rutherford,
at that time professor of theology in the
new college; yet the latter had a very high
esteem for him, as appears from a message
he sent to Wood, when on his deathbed:
“ Tell Mr James Wood from me, I heartily
forgive him all the wrongs he hath done,
and desire him from me to declare himself
the man he still is for the church of Scot-
land.” Rutherford was not disappointed
in him; for nothing could ever prevail
upon him to comply with the tenets of
episcopacy. On the contrary, he was
grieved to the heart when he saw the
apostasy and treachery of some of his
acquaintances, with whom he had formerly
taken sweet counsel; particularly that of I
the notorious Sharp, whom he styled Judas,
Demas, and Gehazi.
The following anecdote is characteristic.
Wood having come to Edinburgh to visit
his brother-in-law, Mr John Carstairs, who
was in prison at the time, expressed a
strong desire to get his eye upon Sharp.
For this purpose he went. with a friend,
1
t

to the shop of a Mr Glen, where it was
understood that Sharp would alight from
his coach. Wood was not disappointed.
In a short time commissioner Middleton’s
, coach came up, in which was the arch-
bishop, who, stepping out first, turned
round and uncovered to receive Middleton;
by which means YVood’s curiosity was fully
gratified. Eying him very narrowly, Wood
burst forth with strong emotion :-—“ O thou
Judas, apostate traitor, that hast betrayed
the famous presbyterian church of Scot-
land to its utter ruin, as far as thou canst,
—if I know anything of the mind of God,
thou shalt not die the ordinary and com~
mon death of men !” And so it happened,
about eighteen years after.
W'ood continued in the undisturbed en-
joyment of his principality, until 1663,
when Sharp, unable to brook the idea of
such a zealous friend of Presbytery being
any longer so near him, caused him to be
cited to appear before the council, to answer
to certain charges alleged to have been
brought against him. On compearing, he
was interrogated how he came to be pro-
ilvost of the college of St Andrews; and,
i when about to reply, he was interrupted in

l
|
an abrupt manner, and ordered to answer in
a word. Regardless of such ungentleman-
like conduct, he told them very coolly, that
he had been invited by the faculty of the
college, at the recommendation of Cromwell,
“ as some present very well knew.” alluding


JAMES
WOOD.
427




to Sharp. This was quite enough,—he was
immediately commanded to retire; but a
short time only elapsed, when he was re-
called, and told :—“ That the lords of coun-
cil, for the present, declared the said place to
be vacant, and ordained and commanded
him to confine himself within the city of
Edinburgh, and not to depart thence till
further orders.” Wood merely replied,
that he was sorry they had condemned
him, without having been heard in his own
defence, as he had not been guilty of any
breach of law. This was Sharp Justice
with a vengeance,—-and in September fol-
lowing the miscreant took the office, with
all its emoluments, into his own hands.
Upon the 30th of the same month, W ood
presented a petition to the council, stating
that his father was dangerously ill; that
particular business required his immediate
presence at St Andrews; and praying for
permission to visit his father. The prayer
of the petition was accordingly granted;
with certification, however, that he should
always return when called by the council.
About the beginning of the year 1664,
his mortal career began to draw toward a
close, and Sharp judged that a proper
opportunity to injure his reputation among
the presbyterians. Sharp visited him
twice upon his deathbed, when he was
very low; and although Wood spoke very
little to his visitor, and not a word about
the state of public affairs, yet Sharp im-
mediately spread a rumour :-—-“ That Mr
Wood, being new under views of death
and eternity, had professed himself very
indifferent as to church-government, de-
claring the government of the church by
Presbytery to be alterable at the pleasure
of the magistrate.” This impudent false-
hood Sharp had even the audacity to lay
before the court in writing. The report
of this having reached “food, he considered
it fortunate that it had taken place before
his death, having still an opportunity to

‘
give it the lie, as will be seen in his Testi-
mony subjoined, which he himself dictated
and subscribed, on the 2d of March, in
presence of two witnesses and a public
notary. This testimony was afterwards
burnt by order of the High Commission.
This unfortunate circumstance added much
grief to all his other sorrows; but he could
enjoy no peace of mind till he had vindi-
cated himself from the foul calumny.
Being asked whether he called church-
government a nicety, and, if he lived, he
would abstract more from such niceties,
he answered, “ Fie, fie, never such a thing!
I did indeed, that the bishop might not
think that Iwas pursuing that controversy
against them, say, I had a great business
to think upon my salvation and peace with
God at the stake; but I did not say, nor
think, that presbyterian government was a
nicety. I judge it to be a truth of God,
an ordinance of Jesus Christ, a part of his
visible kingdom, for which every Christian,
as called to it, should suffer even unto
death; and I would exhort them to it; for
it is but little that we have suffered yet,
and, if I were to live, I would, through the
grace and power of God, account it my
glory to lay down my life in defence of
that truth. There is no man in the world
that has more and stronger obligations
on him, to stand to the maintenance of
that government than I, wherein the Lord
hath cleared me with a strong hand. I
bless the Lord that hath made me under-
stand the nature of his covenant, and gave
me light in the point of justification, and
helped me in some measure to hold out
light therein to others, and cleared me in
the controversy with the Independents, and
this anent prelacy.” He said, “ he had
said before, and said so still, that if ever
he should come to be against presbyterian
government, he might fear to meet God’s
everlasting wrath, and be made a spectacle
to others.” He said further, with much


428
SCOTS WORTHIES.


grave confidence, “God will give an out-
gate (meaning of the prelates), though they
will say, it is impossible—and how should
it come ?—he can hiss for the bees, as
beyond the river.”
Having thus given publicity to his sen-
timents, he afterwards enjoyed great calm~
ness and serenity of mind, frequently set-
ting forth his sweet experiences, and the
assurance he had of a blessed entrance
being administered to him into Christ’s
kingdom in glory, which he obtained on
the 15th of the same month.
“food was among the brightest lights
of the period in which he lived. He had,
in a former part of his life, been colleague
to Sharp; and, after the Restoration, he
lamented much that he had been so long
deceived by that ambitious man. It
was also reported, that he greatly regretted
his having taken part with the resolu-
tioners.
Wodrow says that he left behind him a
finished treatise, in manuscript, refuting
the dogmas of Arminianism; and it is also
known that he triumphantly asserted pres-
byterial government in opposition to the
Independents. He has several other small
works in print; but they are beginning
now to get scarce.
TESTIMONY
OF
JAMES WOOD.
“ I James Wood, being very shortly, by
appearance, to render up my spirit to the
Lord, find myself obliged to leave a word
behind me, for my vindication before the
world. It hath been said of me, that I
have, in word at least, departed from my
wonted zeal for the presbyterian govern-
ment, expressing myself, concerning it, as
if it were a matter not to be accounted of,
and that no man should trouble himself

-, —?___.—.‘._.__.__.r4 --___...l ——~~——~—_—_,~_,'

therefore, in matter of practice. Surely
any Christian that knows me in this kirk
will judge that this is awrong done to me.
It is true, that I being under sickness
have said sometimes, in conference about
my soul’s state, that I was taken up about
greater business than anything of that
kind; and what wonder I said so, being
under such wrestling anent my interest in
Jesus Christ, which is a matter of far
greater concernment than any external
ordinance? But for my estimation of
presbyterian government, the Lord know-
eth, that since the day he convinced my
heart, which was by a strong hand, that it
is the ordinance of God, appointed by
Jesus Christ, for governing and ordering
his visible church, I never had the least
change of thought concerning the necessity
of it, nor of the necessity of the use of it.
And I declare, before God and the world,
that I still account so of it; and that,
however there may be some more precious
ordinances, that is so precious, that a true
Christian is obliged to lay down his life
for the profession thereof, if the Lord shall
see meet to put him to trial; and for
myself, if I were to live, I would account
it my glory to seal this word of my testi-
mony with my blood. Of this declaration
I take God, angels, and men, to be my
witnesses; and have subscribed these pre-
sents, at St Andrews, on the 2d of March,
1664:, about seven hours in the afternoon,
before Mr William Tullidaff, minister at
Dunbog, Mr John Carstairs, my brother~
in-law, and John Pitcairn, writer hereof.
‘6 JAMES woon.”
WILLIAM TULLIDAFF,
JOHN CARSTAIRS, }Witnesses.
JOHN PITCAIRN,




WILLIAM
GUTHRIE. 429



‘WILLIAM
GUTHRIE
THIS studious, learned, and justly cele-
brated servant of Christ, was born at Pit-
frothy, in the county of Angus, in 1620.
His father was proprietor of that estate,
and a branch of the ancient family of
Guthrie; and his mother was a daughter ‘
of the house of Easter Ogle. There were
four sons besides himself, all of whom were
ministers 'of the gospel; and all were emi-
nent for their piety, and attachment to the
cause of Presbytery.
The subject of this memoir gave early
indications of an apt genius, by the progress
he made in the Latin and Greek languages,
which he studied at the university of St
Andrews. He completed his course of
philosophy under his uncle, Mr James
Guthrie, afterwards minister of Stirling,
whose life we have already recorded. At
college, Guthrie lodged in the same room
with his uncle, and therefore enjoyed ad-
vantages superior to those of his class-
fellows. His theology was studied under
the direction of Mr Samuel Rutherford.
“Then and there,” says Mr Traill, “ it
pleased the Lord to call him by his grace,
by the ministry of that excellent person.
His conversion was begun with great
terror of God in his soul, and completed
with that joy and peace in believing which
accompanied him through life. It was
after this blessed change that he resolved
to obey the call of God to serve him in
the ministry of his gospel, which was thus
given him by the Lord’s calling him ef-
fectually to grace and glory. With this
view he so disposed of his paternal estate,
as not to be entangled with the affairs of ‘E
the world, by making it over to the only
brother, who had not been appointed to the
cure of any particular parish.”
Soon after having obtained his license,
Guthrie left St Andrews, and became tutor
I to lord Mauchlin, eldest son to the earl of
! Loudon, in which situation he remained
until appointed pastor to the parish of
F enwick, which at that time was disjoined
from Kilmarnock. Having been appointed
to preach at Galston, on a day preparatory
to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper,
and a number of persons belonging to the
newly erected parish being present, they
were so much captivated by his discourses,
that they immediately resolved to call him
to be their pastor, which being very har-
monious, he felt it to be his duty to accept.
It is said that he, along with the people,
made choice of the spot of ground on which
the church was to be built, and that he
preached within the walls before the edifice
was completely finished.
Many were the difficulties and discour-
agements he had to encounter at the out-
set; yet through the divine blessing upon
his labours, he was eminently successful
in reforming the manners of the people.
Many of them, indeed, were so uncon-
cerned about religion as never to enter a
place of worship; and the face of their
pastor was altogether unknown by them.
Numbers even refused his visits, and would
not suffer him to enter their houses. Such
was the state of Fenwick at the time this
pious man entered upon his ministerial
duties among them. But things did not
remain long in that state; for, he had a
happy art of winning souls to the Saviour.
f Disguised in the habit of a traveller, he
frequently called at their houses in the
I evening, and asked lodgings, which he did
I not even obtain without much entreaty;
but when once admitted, he made himself



430
SCOTS WORTHIES.




a very agreeable guest, by his amusing and
instructive conversation. One question
always was,——how did they like their min-
ister ?—and when told that they did not go
to church, he pressed them to go, and hear
what he had to say. To some he even
gave small sums of money to visit the
house of God; and, before retiringto rest for
the night, he was always solicitous to know
if family worship was observed by them.
Upon one occasion, in a family where
the duty had never been performed, he
urged the goodman of the house to make
the attempt; and, as this person’s only
objection was, that he could not pray, that
he had never been in the habit of praying,
and therefore could not, Guthrie was so very
earnest in his entreaties to make trial, that
the man cried out :-—“ O Lord, thou know-
est that this man would have me to pray;
but thou knowest I cannot pray!” This
was sufficient,—-Guthrie desired him to stop,
saying, he had done enough, and im-
mediately began himself, to the great
Wonder and edification of the family.
When prayer was over, the mistress of the
house said to her husband—“ Surely this
man must be a minister!” The people
were overawed, and felt as if a charm had
come over them. It was no difficult
matter, under such feelings, to gain their
compliance to appear in church _on the
following Sabbath. But, what was their
surprise, when they saw that it was the
minister himself who had been their guest,
and who, in the guise of an humble peasant,
upon their own hearth, had supplicated for
them so many blessings.
Within his parish, too, there was a per-
son who, instead of going to church on the
Lord’s day, betook himself to the fields with
his dog and gun. Guthrie was determined
to reclaim this man, and the effort was
blessed. The minister asked him what
reason he had for desecrating the sabbath;
and the answer he received was. that it

-_.'-_-.___ . cm

was the most fortunate day in the week
for that exercise. Guthrie asked him how
much he could make by it; and, upon being
i told that he could at least realize half a
crown, the good pastor at once told him
that he would pay him that sum, if he
would appear in church next Sabbath.
After the congregation was dismissed,
Guthrie told him that he would renew the
bargain, if he would appear again, which
the man consented to do. From that time
afterward, he never failed to give regular
attendance in the house of God; and, re-
lieving the minister from his obligation, he
felt to his sweet experience that godliness
was of itself great gain. This man, ere
long, became a member of the kirk-session,
and ever after continued to live a godly
and useful life.
Guthrie himself was fond of rural re-
creation, and took particular pleasure in
angling, fowling, and curling. In these
exercises he mingled much with his
parishioners, which he always improved as
seasons of religious instruction, in such a
way, as never to give offence. “ But,”
says a celebrated biographer, “as he was
animated by a flaming zeal for the glory
of his blessed Master, and a tender com-
passion for the souls of men; and as it was
the principal thing that made him desire
life and health, that he might employ them
in propagating the kingdom of God, and
in turning transgressors from their ways,
so the very hours of recreation were dedi-
cated to this purpose, which were so en-
deared to him, that he knew how to make
his diversions subservient to the noble ends
of his ministry. He made them the occa-
sion of familiarizing his people to him, and
introducing himself to their affections ; and,
in the guise of a sportsman, he ‘gained some
to a religious life, whom he could have had
little influence upon in a minister’s dress,
—of which there happened some memo-
rable examples."


WILLIAM GUTHRIE.
43]





. " l
After having been ordained for about a > set out, he had a violent attack of gravel,
year, he married Agnes Campbell, daughter to which he was occasionally subject. His
of David Campbell of Skeldon, in Ayrshire, . amiable wife felt uneasy at the thought of
a remote branch of the family of Loudon,
by whom he had six children. Only two
daughters outlived himself. Mrs Guthrie
was a lady of the most amiable qualities,
who proved a very agreeable companion
and comforter to her husband, for upwards
of twenty years,—one faith, one hope, one
baptism, and a supreme love to Jesus
Christ, actuated both during the whole
period of their union. '
Not long after his marriage, Guthrie
was appointed by the General Assembly
to accompany the army, in the capacity of
chaplain : but just as he was preparing to




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[Battle of Dunbar, September, 1650.]
Rutherford, upon that occasion, dissuaded after the public resolutioners had left
him strongly from taking part with Crom-
them.
well, saying:—-“ that his heart trembled to
entertain the least thought of joining with
these deceivers.”
joined the remonstrants, and was chosen
Moderator of that Synod at Edinburgh, , but, although he indulged foratime,inharm-
? from compliance; but in this sudden chas-

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Guthrie accordingly , universally respected by the English officers,
‘tained the most grateful remembrance.
his absence, and would have dissuaded him
tisement she evidently saw the hand of the
Lord, which made her resolve never again
to interpose her will, when the service of
his divine Master demanded her husband’s
acquiescence. In this campaign, upon the
defeat of the party to which he was at-
tached, he had a very narrow escape,—a
circumstance, of which he ever after re-
He was with the army again, at the time
when the Usurper’s forces were victorious




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Such was Guthrie’s pleasant and cheer-
ful talent for conversation, that he was
who all eagerly sought his acquaintance;


e32
SCOTS WORTHIES.






less mirth, his courage and constancy in
the service of his Great Master never for
Upon all occasions
he found himself able to repress the extra-
vagancies of the English sectarians, and
to curb that spirit of licentiousness, which,
as the dominant party, they thought them-
selves entitled to indulge; a very remark-
able instance of which took place at a
communion, in Glasgow, celebrated by the
Rev. Andrew Gray.—— Several ofthe English
officers had formed a design to put in exe-
cution the disorderly practice of promiscu-
ous admission to the Lord’s table, without
previous information to the minister, and
satisfying him as to their being worthy of
the privilege. A rush was accordingly
made by these gentlemen to occupy the
seats; but, it being Guthrie’s turn to dis-
pense the elements, he, in the name of the
Lord Jesus, addressed them as they were
leaving the pews, with such solemn dignity
and awe, that they were all confounded,
and resumed their places without any
further disturbance.
About the same time, while he was
absent in Angus for a few weeks upon
some private business, the Quakers took
advantage of the occasion, and endeavoured
to effect a settlement in his parish; but he
returned to Fenwick before the infection
had taken deep root, and recovered those
who were in the greatest danger of being
seduced.f He had many calls to other
parishes about this time, but no solicita-
tions could induce him to leave Fenwick.
He was fond of the retirement and re-
creations of a rural life; he loved his
a moment forsook him.
it These “ Friends,” as they call themselves, had
made a number of proselytes in Glasgow, Kilbride,
and other parishes in Lanarkshire ; but especially
in the parish of Glassford, where they had pros-
pered so well, that there is still pointed out there
a cemetery, where they buried their own dead,
with their heads to the east, contrary to the prac-
tice of all other Christians.
T—

people, and he was loved by them in return;
he had been honoured in bringing many
among them into the kingdom of Christ,
whose heavenly birth was the highest
pleasure and brightest triumph of his life ;
and therefore he preferred the comparative
obscurity of F enwick to the most con-
siderable localities in the nation; having
no views to temporal aggrandizement.
In the year 1657, some person having
got possession of a few stray notes of some
sermons he had delivered from the 55th
chapter of Isaiah, regarding the duty of
personal covenanting; and having pub-
lished these without his knowledge, under
the title of “ A clear, attractive, warning
Beam of Light, from Christ the Sun of Light,
leading unto himself,” he was much dissatis-
fied, and therefore thought the only way to
remedy the defect, and save his reputation,
would be to revise the whole of these dis-
courses. It was this circumstance that gave
rise to that admirable treatise, “The Chris-
tian’s Great Interest,”which has been blessed
to the souls of thousands. Guthrie was
equally displeased at the title of the surrepti-
tious work, and at the very imperfect and
injudicious manner in which it had been got
up; for, although it was published anony-
mously, he was the reputed author of it.
Dr Owen is reported to have said, upon
one occasion, of “ The Christian’s Great
Interest,” when addressing himself to a
minister of the church of Scotland :—“You
‘have truly men of great spirits in Scotland,
—there is, for a gentleman, Mr Baillie of
J erviswood, a person of the greatest abilities
I almost ever met with; and, for a divine
-—taking out of his pocket a small gilt
copy of Guthrie’s treatise—that author I
take to be one of the greatest divines that
ever wrote. It is my wade mecum; I
carry it and the Sedan New Testament
still about with me. I have written several
folios; but there is more divinity in it than
in them all.” It was translated into Low



v—
WILLIAM
GUTHRIE. 433



Dutch, and was so highly valued in Hol- '
land, that Mrs Guthrie and one of her
daughters met with very marked attention
in that country on its account, upon their
relationship to the author being made
known. It was also translated into French
and High Dutch, and into one of the
Eastern languages, at the charge of the
honourable Robert Boyle, a very dis-
tinguished patron of religion, learning, and
Christian beneficence.
At the synod of Glasgow, in April 1661,
after long debating about proper measures
for the security of Presbytery, the matter
being referred to a committee, Guthrie
produced the draught of an address to
parliament, in which a faithful testimony
was given to the purity of our Reformation,
in worship, doctrine, discipline, and govern~
ment, in terms remarkable both for their
prudence and courage, which was approved,
and transmitted to the synod. Some,
however, of the resolution party, judging
it inexpedient, afforded an opportunity of
delay to those who intended to comply
with episcopacy; and thus for the time
got it suppressed.
About this time also, being the last time.
he was in company with his cousin, James
Guthrie, he was observed to be rather
melancholy,-—when his friend, in order to
rouse him, said :—“A penny for your
thought, cousin !”—“ There is a poor man
at the door, give him a penny ;” which
having done, he replied :—“ I’ll tell you,
cousin, what I am not only thinking of;
but, what I am sure of, if I be not under
a delusion. The malignants will be your
death, and this gravel will be mine; but
You
will die honourably before many witnesses,
you will have the advantage of me.
. _ l
with a rope about your neck, and I wall
die whining upon a pickle straw; and will ,
suffer more pain before I rise from your;
table, than all the pain you will have in
your death.”


m -____..___..._

This was within a very short time of
his cousin’s death, who had been condemned
to die on the first of June following, which
public exhibition of suffering Guthrie had
determined to visit, and would certainly have
been present at, had not the kirk-session, by
their earnest entreaties, prevailed upon him
not to expose himself unnecessarily to the
Guthrie, by
the will of God, was permitted to remain
in his charge, nearly four years longer than
this, through the instrumentality of the
earl of Eglinton, and chancellor Glencairn,
who were unremitting in their intercessions
for him; for he had been long marked out
by the government as one who had been a
sharper thorn in their side than many
others. Very many of his brethren had
been ejected by this time, and, therefore,
vast crowds of people assembled at Fen-
wick every sabbath-day, from parishes at
a great distance, that they might hear the
words of everlasting truth; but particularly
upon sacramental occasions. At these
solemnities, so vast was the concourse, that
communieants had to show their tokens
to the door-keepers, before they could
vengeance of his enemies.
procure admission.
That period was the most distinguished,
during the whole of his ministry, for re-
markable outpourings of the Spirit,—-great
numbers having been converted to the
truth, and all edified and built up in their
most holy faith. He was at that time
signally honoured to be an instrument of
turning many to a religious life, who had
previously been dissolute profaners of God’s
holy name and ordinances; who, after his
being taken from them, could never, with-
out exultation of soul, and emotions of
revived affection, think of their spiritual
father, and the power of that victorious
grace, which, in those days, triumphed so
gloriously. For many years after, the
people of Fenwick were regarded as more
, civilized and religiouls than those of most
a



434
SCOTS WORTHIES.





other parishes,-—their spiritual pastor hav-
ing fortified them so strongly in a zealous
adherence to the purity of the Reformation,
and warned them so faithfully of the de-
fections that had taken place through the
introduction of episcopacy, that none of
them, even after his departure, ever yielded
compliance. And, it is not unworthy of
our notice here, that the pious people in
those districts were among the chief suf-
ferers in the persecution which immediately
followed. No part of Scotland was more
distinguished for steadfast adherence to
the cause of God and truth; and, it is not
perhaps too much to say, that the effects
of Guthrie’s ministry maybe traced among
these people, even at the present day. If
anywhere in Scotland, it is in that district
that samples may yet be found of what
Presbyterians were in the days of Glaver-
house and the Covenant.
Guthrie’s extraordinary usefulness and
popularity had now so vmuch enraged the
bishops against him, that the archbishop
of Glasgow, in reply to the earl of Glen-
cairn—soliciting that Guthrie might be
overlooked in the general persecution——
said :—“ That shall not be,-——it cannot be,
--he is a ringleader and keeper up of
schism, in my diocese !”—In consequence
of this resolution. Guthrie was suspended
from his office; but such was the awe upon
the minds of the curates, for fear of med-
dling with that great and good man, that
it was with difficulty one could be found
to intimate the sentence of suspension.
The curate of Cadder, however, was at
length induced to undertake the commis-
sion, for the paltry promise of a reward of
five pounds. Guthrie having got previous
notice of what was going on, earnestly
entreated his friends to offer no resistance
to his deposition, assured that his enemies
would make that a handle against him, to
prosecute him continually for his former
zeal and fidelity.

Accordingly, Wednesday, July 20, was
set apart as a day of solemn fasting and
prayer; on which occasion Guthrie preached
to the people from Hosea xiii. 9:—-“()
Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in
me is thine help!” From that text he laid
before them, with great plainness and
affection, their own sins, and the sins of
the land and age; and at the close of the
sermon, intimated that he would meet
with them again on the Sabbath following
at an early hour. Between four and five
in the morning the church was crowded
to excess, when he addressed the congre-
gation from the last clause of the verse,
already mentionedz—“But in me is thine
help.” Upon this heart-rending occasion,
he directed his audience to the Great
Fountain of help, when the gospel and
gospel ministers should be taken from
them, and took his leave by commend-
ing them to God, who was able to build
them up, and help them in every time of
need.
Upon the day appointed, the curate of
Gadder came to Fenwick with a party of
twelve soldiers, and, by commission from
the archbishop of Glasgow, discharged
Guthrie from preaching any more in Fen-
wick; declared the church vacant, and
suspended him from the exercise of his
ministry. Having left his party without,
the curate then stepped into the manse,
and told Guthrie, that the bishop and
committee, after much lenity shown to~
wards him, had been constrained to pass
the sentence of suspension, because he
would not meet with his brethren in
presbyteries and synods, and for his tur-
bulence in the church; of which sentence
he had been appointed to make public
intimation, which he then did, by reading
the commission under the hand of the
archbishop of Glasgow.
To all this Guthrie replied :—-“I judge
it not expedient to say much in answer to


WILLIAM
GUTHRIE. 435




what you have spoken; only, whereas you
allege there has been much lenity shown
towards me—be it known unto you that I
take the Lord for party in that, and thank
Him first. I look upon it as a door which
God opened to me for preaching his gospel,
which neither you nor any other man was
able to shut, until it was given you of
God. As to this sentence passed against
me, I declare before these gentlemen—
pointing to the officers of the party—that
I lay no weight upon it, as it comes from
you, or those that sent you ; although I
respect the civil authority, who, by their
law, laid the ground of the sentence against
me. I declare I will not cease from the
exercise of my ministry for all that sentence.
As to the crimes with which I am charged,
—-I did keep presbyteries and synods with
the rest of my brethren; but I do not look
upon those who now sit in these courts as
my brethren, who have fallen from the
truth and cause of God; neither do I judge
those to be fi'ee and lawful courts of Christ
that are now held in this kingdom. With
regard to my turbulence, I know I am
bidden follow peace with all men; but I
know also I am hidden follow it with
holiness; and since I could not obtain
peace without prejudice to holiness, I
thought myself obliged to let it go. As
for your commission, Sir, to intimate this
sentence,—I here declare, I think myself
called by the Lord to the work of the
ministry, for which I forsook the nearest
relation in the world, and gave myself up
to the service of the gospel in this place,
having received an unanimous call from
this parish, and having been licensed and
ordained by the presbytery. I bless the
Lord he has given me some success and
seals of my ministry upon the souls and
consciences of not a few who are gone to
heaven, and of some who are yet on the
way to it. And now, Sir, if you will
take it upon you to interrupt my work

among this people, I shall wish the Lord
may forgive you the guilt of it: but I
cannot but leave all the bad consequences
that may fall out upon it, betwixt God
and your own conscience. And here I
do further declare before these gentlemen,
that I am suspended from my ministry
for adhering to the Covenants and word
of God, from which you and others have
apostatized.”
Here the curate interrupted Guthrie,
and said that the Lord had a work before.
that covenant had a being; and that they
were the only apostates who adhered to
the covenant :--“ True,” replied Guthrie,
“ the Lord had a work before that covenant
had a being; but it is as true, that it has
been more glorious since that covenant;
and it is a small thing for us to be judged
of you, in adhering to the covenant,-——
you who have so deeply corrupted your
ways. As for you, gentlemen,” turning
to the soldiers, “ I wish the Lord may
pardon your countenancing this man in
his business,”-—to which one of these
scofiingly replied, “ I wish we may never
do a greater fault !”—“ Well!” answered
Guthrie, “a little sin may damn a man’s
soul.”
Guthrie here called for a glass of ale,
and having asked a blessing, drank to the
commanding officer, who, after having
tasted, retired. But, to the curate he
remarked,—that he apprehended some
evident mark of the Lord’s displeasure
awaited him for what he was doing, and
seriously warned him to prepare for some
visitation'of Providence coming upon him
very soon; and says Mr VVodrow:—“ I
am well assured he never preached any
more after he left Fenwick. He reached
Glasgow, but it is not certain if he reached
Cadder, though but six miles from Glas-
gow. However, in a few days he died in
great torment, of an iliac passion; and
his wife and children all died in a year or





L136
SCOTS WORTHIES.








thereby, and none belonging to him were
left.”
Before leaving F enwick the curate re-
paired to the church, and intimated the
bishop’s sentence from the pulpit, after
having harangued the soldiers for about a
quarter of an hour; for they formed the
whole of his audience, with the exception
of a few children, who annoyed the curate
not a little. In compliance with their
minister’s request, the parishioners were
all quiet; although, if he had wished, they
would have sacrificed their lives in defence
of his rights.
It is generally believed that Guthrie
never preached in F enwick after this; but
it is related, that upon a certain occasion,
as he and a number of his parishioners
were returning from Stewarton, whither
they had gone to hear sermon, and under-
standing that they were not altogether
satisfied with what they had heard, he
proposed to go over the discourse himself,
if they chose. All having assented, and
seated themselves upon a verdant knoll, in
the calm of a delightful summer evening,
he rehearsed the greater part of the ser-
mon, to their great joy and edification,—
so much pleased were they at hearing that
voice once more, which had so often thrilled
their hearts with rapture.
He continued, however, in Fenwick, till
the year 1665, when, upon the death of
the brother to whom he had made over
the paternal estate, he and his wife took
their departure for Angus to look after
the family affairs. But he had not been
long there until he was attacked by a
complication of maladies, which in about
ten days wrought his dissolution. In the
midst of his greatest sufferings, he said,
“ The Lord has been kind to me, notwith-
standing all the evils I have done; and, I
am assured, that though I should die mad,
I shall die in the Lord. Blessed are the
dead that die in the Lord at all times; but

more especially when a flood of errors,
snares, and judgments, are beginning or
coming on a nation, church, or people I”
So very excruciating were his bodily pains,
that in. order to afford him temporary
relief, his friends were frequently obliged
to hold down his head, and raise his lower
extremities ;——yet, amidst all these he was
never heard to complain; but adored the
measures of Divine Providence, saying,—
“ it might have been worse.” During his
short intervals of cessation from bodily
pain, he longed ardently for his dissolution,
and often said how gladly he would make
the grave his dwelling-place, when it should
please God to bring his sufferings to a
close. Death came at length to his relief
in the house of his brother-in-law, Mr
Lewis Skinner, at Brechin, upon Wednes-
day, 10th October, 1665, in the 45th year
of his age; and he was buried in the
church of Brechin, immediately beneath
the seats allotted to the estate of Fit
frothy.
“ Guthrie,” says Mr Livingstone, “ was
a man of most ready wit, fruitful invention,
and apposite comparisons, qualified both
to awaken and pacify the conscience, straight
and zealous for the cause of Christ, and a
great light in the west of Scotland. In
his doctrine he was as full and free as any
man in Scotland had ever been; which,
together with the excellency of his preach-
ing gifts, so recommended him to the
affection of his people, that they turned
the corn-field of his glebe into a little town,
every one building‘a house for his family
on it, that they might live under the drop
of his ministry.” Another writer says of
him—--“ he was a burning and shining light;
he converted and confirmed many thou-
sands of souls, and was esteemed the
greatest preacher in Scotland. Indeed
he was accounted as well qualified for
confirming those who were under exercise
of soul, as almost any in his age, or any



ROBERT
BLAIR. 437
I
age we ever heard of. Many have made 1
reflections on him because he left off his
ministry, on account of the bishop’s sus-
pension. It is true that the authority of
the Stuarts was too much the idol of
jealousy to many of our worthy Scots
reformers; for, we may well wonder that
the nation did not rise up, as one man, to
cut off those who had razed the whole of
the presbyterian constitution; but the
Lord, for holy and wise ends, saw meet to
cut off those in power by another arm, after
they had all been brought to the furnace


___.__._ 1... ._____ A A .W ,_~.A_-- _..-__.___..___
together; although it might well have been
seen,” as Guthrie observed,—“ that the civil
power laid the foundation for the other.”
Besides his admirable work-—“ The
Christian’s Great Interest,” a few sermons,
said to have been preached at Fenwick,
from Matt. xix. 44, &c., and Hosea xiii. 9.,
are still ext-ant. The treatise on “ Ruling
Elders” affixed to the last edition of his
works, is not his, but his cousin, Mr
James Guthrie’s. A number of manuscripts,
bearing a strong resemblance to his holo-
graph, are still to be found.

ROBERT BLAIR.

JOHN BLAIR of Windyedge, a younger
brother of the ancient family of Blair, in
the parish of Irvine, was the father of this
Worthy; and his mother was Beatrix
Muir, of the family of Rowallen. He was
born in 1593. His father died when
very young, leaving his mother with six
children, of whom Robert was the youngest.
She is said to have lived to the age of 100,
and to have spent nearly the half of that
time in a state of honourable widowhood.
Blair was sent to the university of
Glasgow, when about 15 years of age,
where he made such remarkable progress,
both in the classics, and in philosophy which
he studied under his own brother ‘William,

hand, says Blair himself in ,his memoirs,
the Lord had put the key of his heart, so
that whenever he heard him, he profited
much, Mr Boyd having been sent to him
as it were from God, to speak to him the
words of eternal life.
In the summer of 1616, Blair entered
upon trials for license, and, having passed
honourably through, he was appointed to
preach in the College Kirk on the Sabbath
following. Upon that occasion he was
told by some of his audience, that in his
sermon the Lord had spoken to their
hearts, which excited him even more to
follow after the Lord. Not long after, he
: had for one of his hearers the famous Mr

that in a very few years after he was ap- ' Robert Bruce, and being anxious to know
pointed to fill the chair which his brother I what that good man thought of his dis-
had occupied, until he was settled minister courses, he received for answer:——“ I found
of Dumbarton. Previous to his nomina- , your sermonverypolished andwell digested;
tion to the professorship, however, he is f but there is one thing I missed in it, and
said to have distinguished himself greatly that is, the Spirit of G0(Z,——I found not
as a teacher in the city, at which time that!” From this Blair learned, that, to
he was brought to a saving knowledge of I be a successful minister of Jesus Christ,
the truth, under the ministry of the cele- something more is necessary besides talent
brated Mr Boyd of Trochrig, into whose and eloquence.


1:38
SCOTS WOR'I‘HI ES.




During the course of his professorship,
a report having gone abroad that anew
oath of a particular kind was to be exacted
from the professors, he consulted Mr Gavin
F orsyth, one of his colleagues, what should
be done in the matter. Forsyth replied,
~——“ By my faith, I must live !”—“ I wont
swear by my faith,” said Blair, “as you do;
but truly I intend to live by my faith.
You may choose your own way; but I will
adventure upon the Lord.” Some years
after, Forsyth being reduced to great
poverty, applied to the General Assembly
for relief; and Blair, happening to be
moderator at the time, could not help
remarking upon his former conduct. In
a private conference with the unfortunate
man, he recalled to his mind his former
unhappy expression ; but at the same time,
with great tenderness, told him that he
himself had. been carried through by
that faith, at which he had formerly
scoffed.
Some time after this he was under deep
mental exercise upon that saying in scrip-
ture, The just shall live by faith; the
result of which, among other things, led
him to remark, that it was no wonder that
his not making use of faith for sanctifica-
tion had occasioned an obstruction in the
progress of holiness ; and therefore he per-
ceived that making use of Christ for
sanctification, without directly employing
faith to extract the same out of him, was
like one seeking water out of a deep well,
without a long cord to let down the bucket
and draw it up again. “ T hen,” said he,
“was I like one that came to the store-
house, but got my provision reached to
me, as it were through a window. I had
come to the house of mercy, but had not
found the right door; by this discovery,
however, I found a patent portal at which
to go in, to receive provision and furniture
from Christ Jesus. Thus the blessed
Lord trained me up, step by step, suffering


many difficulties to arise, that more light
from" himself might flow in.”
Soon after this, upon the resignation of
principal Boyd, Dr Cameron was called
from France to preside over the university
of Glasgow; and being a stanch adherent
to episcopacy, Blair was repeatedly urged
by him to give in to the “ Five Articles ;”
but he as frequently refused. The Doctor
had his eye upon him ever after this; and
the more so, because he had been repeatedly
worsted by Blair, in public disputations,
which galled the Doctor’s scholastic pride
not a little. Besides, having acted towards
Blair, during his absence, in a manner far
from being honourable, he foresaw that his
future life, in connexion with a man of the
Doctor’s temper, would be everything but
pleasant, he gave in his resignation, and
left the university,-—to the great regret of
his brethren, the students, and people of
Glasgow.
Although Blair had at that time calls
I from different parishes in Scotland, besides

a very pressing solicitation to go to France,
he accepted of an invitation to be minister
of Bangor in Ireland. It is said that as
he drew nigh that place he felt a powerful
impression upon his mind, that the Dean
of Bangor was sick, which, upon his arrival,
he found to be the case. Mr Gibson, the
incumbent, invited Blair to officiate for
him, which he did for three sabbaths, with
so much acceptance to the people, and
even to the Dean himself, that he told
Blair he would be his successor in that
place, exhort-ing him, at the same time, in
the name of Christ, not to forsake the
good way in which he had begun to walk.
The Dean was no friend in his heart to
episcopacy, of which he gave Blair frequent
assurance on his death-bed, behaving to-
wards him with the greatest kindness and
attention. A little before his death he
stretched out both his arms, and, drawing
Blair towards him, blessed him in the most



ROBERT BLAIR.
439


F"—
heavenly manner, which was so unlike his
former general behaviour, that a bystander
remarked ;—“ An angel is speaking out of
the Dean’s bed to Mr Blair!” In a few
days the Dean died, and Blair was settled
in his place.
With regard to his ordination, the fol-
lowing singular fact is related. After
Blair'had told the bishop of the diocese
his opinions regarding church government,
and that ordination by one man did not
' accord with his principles; the bishop,
having previously heard of his great talents
and piety, observed :——“ 7Whatever you ac-
count of episcopacy, yet I know you believe
Presbytery to have a divine warrant—will
you not receive ordination from Mr Cun-
ningham and the adjacent brethren, and
allow me to come in as a co-presbyter ?”--
Upon no other terms could the bishop be
answerable to the government; and there-
fore Blair yielded compliance, and was
accordingly ordained about the year 1623.
It was a serious undertaking; for he had
above 1200 persons of full age, besides
children, who all stood in great need of
instruction. Besides the stated duties
of the sabbath, he preached regularly
twice a week; on which occasions he
was greatly assisted, and made a blessed
‘instrument of much good to the souls of
many.
In the great work which afterwards took
place at Six-mile IVater, and other parts
in the counties of Down and Antrim,
Blair was very much distinguished, not
only by his own ministry, but also by the
great pains he took in stirring up others
to similar diligence.
At the first celebration of the Lord’s
Supper in that place, when treating of the
new covenant, his heart was greatly elated,
which determined him ever after, in the
observance of that ordinance, to have re-
course to the same inexhaustible fountain
of consolation; and, coming over to Scot-

land soon afterf‘ he received no small
assistance from Mr Dickson, who had been
restored to his flock at Irvine, and who
was studying and preaching on the same
subject. But he was not allowed to
exercise his ministry for many years un-
disturbed; for, in the autumn of 163l, he
and Mr Livingstone were both suspended
by the bishop of Down. Upon applica-
tion, however, to archbishop Usher, their
sentence was relaxed, and they were per-
mitted to continue in their charge, until
May of the following year, when they were
finally deposed from the office of the holy
ministry.
As the last resource in this distressing
case, Blair undertook a journey to London,
to represent to the court his own situation,
and that of his persecuted brethren; but
after waiting for a long time, he found
there was very little hope of meeting
king Charles, and therefore the time hung
very heavy on his hands. One day, how~
ever, tired with waiting on the court, and
labouring under deep despondency, after
having engaged in solemn prayer, he
walked out to Greenwich Park, and having

[Greenwich Park.)
‘ It is supposed that about this time he married
his first wife, Beatrix Hamilton, a very excellent
lady, belonging to the family of Barduie.




140
SCOTS WORTHIES.



'__. ___*__._...__~__


ventured to ask of the Lord a sign by
which he might be able to judge of his
success,—it was most graciously revealed
to him, that his wishes would ere long be
realized. Very soon after this, then, he
received a despatch from his majesty, not
only granting the prayer of his petition;
but, in a note to the deputy, on the margin,
written with the king’s own hand, were
the words :——“ Indulge these men, for they
are Scotsmen !”
Upon his return to Ireland, he presented
Charles’ note to the deputy; but he paid
no attention to it; wherefore he was com-
pelled once more to have recourse to good
archbishop Usher. The venerable old
man shed tears because he felt himself
unable to assist the suffering servants of
God; however, through the kind interposi-
tion of lord Castlestuart, the king granted
them six months’ liberty. But, after all,
in November, 1634, he was again cited
before the bishop, and sentence of ex-
communication pronounced against him.
Blair’s spirit rose with the emergency,
and, before the bishop’s face, he summoned
him to answer for his conduct before the
tribunal of Jesus Christ. Upon this the
bishop contemptuously appealed from the
justice of God to his mercy; to which
Blair very coolly replied :-—“ Your appeal
is like to be rejected, because you act
against the light of your conscience l”—
and so it happened; for in a few months
after, the bishop was taken ill; and,
labouring under great anguish of mind, he
said to his physician one day, when in-
quirin g how he felt :——“ It is my conscience,
man, it is my conscience !”—As might
have been expected, the Doctor’s observa-
tion was :—“ I have no cure for that l”—
and, in a short time after, the bishop departed
this life, to learn the issue of his appeal.
After his ejection, Blair continued to
preach frequently in his own and some
neighbouring houses, until the beginning

of the year 1635, when he entered into
the matrimonial state a second time, with
Catharine, daughter of Hugh Montgcmery
of Busbie, in Ayrshire, then with his
family in Ireland.
It has been already mentioned, that a
number of the ejected presbyterian ministers
in Ireland had formed a project of building
a vessel to convey them to America, and
that they actually accomplished this. A
tremendous hurricane, however, rendered
their scheme abortive, and they sought
refuge in Scotland. Blair was one of
these. Having continued about four
months in Ireland, after the failure of the
expedition, he and Mr Livingstone, having
received information, that they were about
to be apprehended, immediately went on
board a vessel bound for Scotland, where
they landed in 1637. The principal scene
of Blair’s labours was about Irvine, and
the surrounding country; but he went also
occasionally to Edinburgh. Episcopacy
being then powerfully regnant in the
country, he accepted of chaplainship in
Col. Hepburn’s regiment in the French
service, a corps recently raised in Scotland,
and with that officer he embarked at Leith.
But the display of a military life was not
at all suited to our Worthy’s habits. The
regiment was composed chiefly of wild
Highlanders who were intolerant of re-
proof, and could not brook the idea of
clerical discipline; and therefore, upon any
reproof of Blair’s, how grievous soever the
offence, they made show of their weapons,
and threatened to stab the good man.
Such conduct as this at once determined
him to abandon the service, and he was
set ashore privately, without imparting his
intention to any one. On this occasion
he had a very narrow escape for his life;
for, his foot having slipped, he would have
fallen into the sea, had he not caught hold
of a rope, by which he hung till he was
relieved



ROBERT BLAIR.
441


-—_._____.__
Blair’s return was matter of great joy
to his friends, and, in the spring of 1638
he was called to be fellow—labourer with
Mr Annan, at Ayr, to which charge he
was inducted upon the 2d day of May
following. His stay, however, was but
short; for, having at the General Assembly
of that year, vindicated himself in regard
to his disputation with Dr Cameron,
while professor in the university of Glas-
gow, and also in the matter of his settle-
ment in Ireland, he was by the supreme
court appointed to St Andrews, where his
splendid talents might be turned to better
account. He, nevertheless, continued
another year, not seeing his way clearly,
as he expressed himself; but the Assembly
of 1639, dissatisfied at this act of disobedi-
ence, ordered him to betake himself thither
without delay.
Blair went over again to Ireland, after
the rebellion in 1641,* with the permission
of the General Assembly, who had been
supplicated for a supply of ministers, to fill
up the vacancies of those who had either
fallen in battle, or had been otherwise
deprived of their livings; and, at this time,
he was no less laborious than formerly.
In1643 he acted as one of the committee
of the General Assembly who agreed to a
Solemn League and Covenant betwixt
Scotland and England; and in the end of
the same year, when the Scots assisted the
English parliament, he was appointed chap-
lain to the earl of Crawford’s regiment; in
which situation he continued until July,
1644, when the king’s troops were de-
feated at Marston-moornL after which he
returned to his charge at St Andrews.
A contemporary writer says that in this re-
bellion, the papists massacred about ‘200,000 pro-
testants,_men, women, and children.
+ “ The Scots army entered England," says the
flIeduZla Hz'slorz'aa Scolz'cce, “Jan. 16, 1643, their
army being in number 18,000 foot, and ‘2,000
horse.
' 1000 horse.

After they had served the parliament upon ,
several occasions, and particularly at Marston-moor,
Blair opened the parliament and com-
mission of Assembly, at Perth, in July,
1645; and, after having again preached
before parliament, on the 27th—a day of
solemn humiliation,—he rode out to the
army, then encamped at Forgandenny, and
preached to Crawford and Maitland’s regi-
ments. In that sermon he told them that
their wickedness was notorious ; and, though
they had been victorious at Marston-moor,
they would not be able to stand before a
less formidable fee, if they did not repent,
and turn to God. In about three weeks
after, the greater part of Crawford’s regi-
ment was cut down at the unfortunate
affair of Kilsyth.
After this defeat, Blair opposed all terms
of accommodation with Montrose; saying
‘ that the Lord would look upon the afflic-
tion of his people—and so it turned out—
for the Committee of Estates recalled
General Leslie with 4000 foot and
Montrose by this time had
received orders from the king to march
southward, and oppose Leslie; but the
latter, having surprised the royal army at
Philiphaugh, totally routed Montrose, and
put his army to flight,--the general himself
having with difficulty made his escape.
Among the prisoners taken in that en~
counter were Sir Robert Spottiswood,
Nathaniel Gordon, and Andrew Guthrie,
who were condemned to be executed on
the 17th of January thereafter. \Vith
these gentlemen Blair was at great pains
to bring them to a sense of their guilt;
and with Sir Robert he so far succeeded,
as to obtain from him awish to be released
where they helpt them to obtain a victory against
prince Rupert, they retired to Newcastle,_the
king being brought so low, that he was hardly
able to keep anything of an army in the field,
came thither in disguise, acquainting General
Leslie, the Scotz'sh general, that he would now
commit himself to him; looking upon him as a
man of honour, that would do nothingr but what
was just and loyal, in a rpiatter ofsuch weight.”
3


442
SCOTS \VORTHI ES.

supply the vacancy.

N__ ,. — ¥ *7 -__*_. ___________ _

from the sentence of excommunication
under which he lay. with this Blair
complied; but the other two, being bishops’
sons, were not to be moved—Jllali- corvi
malum ovum.if
In the Assembly of 1646, Blair, who
was moderator at the time, was one of
those appointed to go to the king at N ew-
castle, and endeavour to convince him of
the alarming bloodshed he had caused in
the nation; and, if possible, to reconcile
him to Presbytery and the Covenants.
Among other things, the conversation
having turned to popery, Blair asked his
majesty if there were not abominations in
that wo'rship:—“ Yes,” replied Charles,
" I take God to witness there are abomina-
tions in popery, which I so much abhor,
that ere I consent to them, I would rather
lose my life and my crown 1” Upon this Blair
urged him strongly to gratify the desires
of his subjects,-—but he refused. Blair’s
plain dealing with the king, however, im-
pressed his majesty with a favourable
opinion of his honest sincerity; but, unable
to move Charles to compliance, he returned
home to St Andrews, for the time.
remain long; for Mr Henderson, the kings
chaplain, having died in the interim,
Charles immediately sent for Blair to
In this also, Blair
did not at once see his way clearly; but
having consulted his friend Mr Dickson,
and recollecting how honourably his de-
ceased brother had held fast his integrity,
amid all the fascinations of a court, he
accepted of his majesty’s offer. Blair’s
diligence and fidelity, as chaplain to the
household, were most exemplary,

praying
every day in the presence-chamber before
dinner and supper; lecturing once, and
preaching twice, every Lord’s day; besides
preaching occasionally in St N ' 'hola-s’
* Rooks out of a bad nest.

' usurper,



church on other days; conversing much
with the king ;
the forms of episcopacy; and pressing him,
debating with him upon
upon every proper opportunity, to accede
to the just desires of his people.
After prayer, one day, the king asked
him if it was warrantable to determine a
controversy in prayer—as you have to-day
declared the pope to be antichrist, a
point, concerning which divines are still
at issue. Blair replied :-—“ Please your
majesty, with me this is no controversy,

and I am sorry it should be accounted so
by your majesty; for it was not so with
your royal father 1” Upon hearing this,
the king was silent; for the authority of
his father was of more weight with him,
than that of any divine. After having
performed the duties for a few months, he
was permitted to visit his flock and family.
During the sitting of the next Scots
parliament, Blair paid the king another
visit at Newcastle, where. he urged him
with all the eloquence and arguments he
could command,to subscribe the Covenants,
and abolish episcopacy in England,—assur~
; ing him that every honest Scotsman would
Here, however, he was not permitted to '
espouse his cause against his enemies. To
this Charles replied,——that he was bound
by his great oath to defend episcopacy in
that church, and, rather than wrong his
conscience, by violating his oath, he would
lose his crown. Blair, knowing the form
of words to be only, that he would main-
tain it to the utmost of his power, informed
his majesty that he had not only done so;
but, for such a length of time, and to such
an extent, that he had now no power.
All was unavailing, however; and there
fore Blair took his departure for St An-
drews with a heavy heart.
In 1648, when Cromwell made a descent
upon Edinburgh, Messrs Blair, Dickson.
and James Guthrie, were deputed by the
, Commission of Assembly to wait upon the
and endeavour to obtain his



ROBERT
BLAIR. 443
,1




assent to a uniformity of religious worship in England; but Cromwell evaded the I
point in his usual manner, by smooth and
adulatory speeches, frequently appealing
to God as to the sincerity of his intentions.
But Blair was not to be trifled with; he
respectfully demanded an answer to three
questions—Whatwas his opinion of monar-
chical government ?—VVhat were his views
of toleration ?—-and, What did he think of
the government of the church? To the
first, Cromwell said he was in favour of
government by monarchy; to the second,
that he was altogether hostile to toleration;
and to the third :—-“ Eh, Mr Blair! you
article me too severely now,——you must
pardon me, that I give you not a present
answer to this!” Blair knew well the
meaning of this evasion; for Cromwell
had formerly confessed that he was par-
tial to that of Independence. When
the deputation left Cromwell, Mr Dick-
son observed “that he was glad to hear
that man speak no worse.” “Ah!” 'said
Blair, “you don’t know him so well as I, or
you would not believe one word he says;
for he is a most egregious dissembler !”
In the contest between the resolutioners
and protesters, Blair remained for the
most part neutral; although, upon every
occasion where he thought he could effect a
pacification, he used all his influence and
eloquence to reconcile differences; yet, both
at St Andrews and at Edinburgh, where
there was a strong muster on both sides,
all his hopes were blasted, and every
shadow of agreement vanished.
In this state did affairs continue till the
year 1660, when, upon the death of Crom-
well, the nation, weakened by internal dis-
sensions, agreed to recall Charles II. to
the throne. On this occasion, Blair once
more made an attempt to bring about a

reconciliation; but his endeavours were
again frustrated, and a long and bloodyé
persecution was the result. l
In September, 1661, Sharp came to St
Andrews, and the presbytery having been
well assured of the double part he had
been acting, and of the probability of his
being made archbishop of St Andrews——
ill at ease with such an Achan in their
camp—commissioned Blair and another
minister to wait upon him, and inform him
of what had come to their knowledge.
This these gentlemen did with so much
plainness and fair dealing, that Sharp was _
never at ease till Blair was ejected.
Very soon after this, Blair, having taken
occasion to preach from 1. Pet. iii. 13:---
“ And who is he that will harm you, if ye
be followers of that which is good?”—
introduced into the discourse, the topics
of suffering for righteousness’ sake, and
giving testimony to the Covenants and the
work of Reformation, against the corrupt
courses of the times. As might have been
expected, Blair was summoned to appear
before the council, to answer for the
sentiments to which he had given expres-
sion. The points upon which he was
interrogated, werez—l. Whether he had
asserted presbyterial government to be
jitrc cZiviiio ?—2. Whether he had asserted
that suffering for it was suffering for
righteousness’ sake?——3. Whether in his
prayers against popery he had joined pre-
lacy with it ?-—Having answered in the
affirmative, and expressed his sorrow that
they should doubt his opinion upon these
points, he was first confined to his chamber
in Edinburgh; but afterwards, on account
of his health, permitted to retire to In-
veresk, about the middle of January,
1662, where he remained until October,
enjoying all his perplexities,
much of the divine presence. Through
the kindness of the chancellor, he then
obtained liberty to go anywhere he chose,
with the exception of St Andrews, Edin-
burgh, and the west country. He made
choice of Kirkaldy; but. in consequence
amidst
444
SCOTS WORTHIES.


of an Act which was passed soon after—
that no ousted minister should reside within
twenty miles of an archbishop’s see,—he
removed to Meikle Couston, in the parish
of Aberdour, where he remained till his
death.
At length, worn out with age and grief,
he was taken ill on the 10th of August,
1666 ; but he was enabled to look forward
to his approaching exit, with the com-
posure and serenity of a believer in Jesus.
Many and gracious were the edifying words
with which he both strengthened and
comforted the numerous friends who visited
him upon his deathbed. Upon one occa-
sion, when told of some severe acts of
council, lately passed at the instigation
of archbishop Sharp, instead of reproach-
ing him, he prayed earnestly that the Lord
would open his eyes, and give him repent-
ance; and afterwards, in a conversation
with Mrs Rutherford, said :—“ I would
not exchange situations with that man
(Sharp) altho’ all between us were red
gold, and given me to the bargain!”
To his wife and children he spoke with
the most affectionate seriousness; and after
having solemnly blessed them, he addressed
them one by one upon subjects of grave
and eternal importance. To his son David
he said, “ I have again and again thought
upon my former ways, and communed with
my heart; and as for my public actings
and carriage, in reference to the Lord’s
work, if I were to begin again, I would
just do as I have done.” He frequently
repeated the 16th, 23d, and 71st psalms,
——-the latter of which he used to call his
own. About two days before his death,
his speech began to fail so much that his
words were but imperfectly understood;
but to his wife, and some other attendants
he was heard to say, that he rejoiced to
suffer as a persecuted minister, adding
very energetically:—“ Is it not persecution
to thrust me from the work of the ministry,
l
which was my delight, and hinder me from
doing good to my people and flock, which
was my oy and crown of rejoicing, and to
chase me from place to place, till I am
wasted with heaviness and sorrow, for the
injuries done to the Lord’s prerogative,
interest, and cause ?” These were among
the last intelligible expressions he was
heard to utter. At length death terminated
all his earthly sufferings and sorrows, on
the morning of the 27th of August, 1766.
He was buried in the churchyard of
Aberdour, close by the wall, upon which
was erected a small monument, with the
following unostentatious inscription :—
Hic reconditae jacent mortuae
Exuviae D. Roberti Blair, S. S.
Evangelii apud Andreapolin
Praedicatoris fidelissimi. ()biit
Augusti 27, 1666, Aetatis suae 733*
Blair was a man of an excellent con-
stitution; and, though of a majestically
dignified mien, his deportment was humble,
affable, and courteous. In all the private
as well as public duties of his station, he
was laborious, diligent, and unremitting;
not only endearing himself to the people
of his own parish and congregation; but
to all the people of God in the district
where he lived. In the church judicatories
he bore a very distinguished character, not
only for the quickness of his apprehension,
but also for the clearness of his expositions,
and the decision which he uniformly dis-
played in all matters of public concern.
At the time when the General Assembly
resolved upon a new Exposition of the
Bible, the portion assigned to Blair was
the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes;
but the former of these only he finished
in the same year on which he died. He
* Here lie intombed the mortal remains of Mr
Robert Blair, S.S., a very faithful preacher of the
gospel at St Andrews, who died on the 27th of
August, 1666, in the 73d year ofhis age.

. ___~&_

HUGH M‘KAIL.
445



l
-~_
is said also to have cultivated, occasionally, short epigrams on various subjects, which
a taste for poetry, and to have left behind ‘ did no inconsiderable honour to the age
him a few fugitive effusions, and some I in which he lived. ‘

HUGH M‘KAIL.

ALTHOUGH all the historians of the age
in which M‘Kail lived narrate his suffer-
ings and death, yet not one of them takes
any notice of the place of his birth. We
have it, however, from authority which
has not been disputed, that he was born
of pious and respectable parents, in the
parish of Libberton, near Edinburgh; and
that they very early dedicated him to the
work of the ministry. As a scholar, he dis-
tinguished himself very highly; and as a .
student in divinity, he, at that early age,
gave sure indications of becoming a talented
preacher of the gospel.
Before he was twenty years of age, he
became chaplain and tutor in the family
of Sir James Stewart of Coltness, at that
time lord provost of Edinburgh, a gentle~
man remarkable for his attachment to the
cause of both civil and religious liberty.
In this family M‘ Kail became acquainted
with the marquis of Argyle, the earl of
Loudon, lord VVarriston, and many other


rated. Although the family of Sir James
had been friendly to the cause of the
monarch in the days of his adversity, these
things were all forgotten now, and he was
involved in the general persecution. Hav-
ing been induced to accompany his friend
Sir John Chiesly of Carswell to Edinburgh
castle, both of these gentlemen were then
made prisoners by order of the government.f
In the winter of 1661, M‘Kail, who still
abode with the family of Coltness, offered
himself for license before the presbytery of
Edinburgh, and having gone through his
probationary trials to their satisfaction, he
obtained the ultimatum of his ambition,—
viz., that he might preach “ Christ, the
power of God, and the wisdom of God,
unto salvation.”
From the last sermon which he delivered
at that time, in the High Church of
Edinburgh, from Song i. 7 .,t may be dated
the commencement of his sufferings. In
this sermon he fearlessly showed that it
kindred spirits, whose patriotic attachmentI was 110 new thing for the church to be
to the cause of Presbytery he then imbibed, iIlVOlVQd in persecution; and, amplifying
and continued afterwards to embrace with
such ardour, as to make him willing to
suffer the loss of all things in its defence.
But M‘Kail’s enjoyment of these happy
scenes was but of short duration. The
tyrannical overbearing of king Charles,
and his irreconcilable aversion to the
principles of the Covenant, urged on by a
horde of popish incendiaries, led him soon
after to overthrow the presbyterian church,
as has been already more than once nar-
l
the subject, he said,—a Pharaoh on the
throne, a Haman in the state, and a
Judas in the church, had done the work
in former times; and although in his
* From Edinburgh castle, Sir James was re-
moved to Dundee, and fined, first in £500, and
afterwards in £1000.
T “Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth,
where thou feedest, where thou makest 1713/ fioclc
to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that
. turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions i3”



4&6
SCOTS WORTHIES.

allusion to Haman and Judas he made
no application, yet Sharp and Lauderdale
thought their portraits had been very
accurately drawn; and therefore M‘Kail
was singled out as a very proper person to
be put to silence.* Accordingly, a troop of
dragoons soon after surrounded Coltness
House, in the night time; but M‘Kail,
although he had little more than a mo-
ment’s warning, escaped from his own
bedroom to another, and was almost
miraculously preserved. From thence he
escaped to his father’s house in the parish
of Libberton, where he remained under
concealment, till he found an opportunity
to go to Holland, at that time the asylum
of Scottish refugees. In that peaceful
country, apart from the shaft of persecu-
tion, and the din and carnage of civil
discord, he enlarged his stock of thee-
logical knowledge, by entering himself a
student in one of the Dutch universities.
" The following document, which is still to be
found in the records of council, affords a lamenta-
ble specimen of prelatic domination, in the times
of which we write :——“ Information having been
given that Mr Hugh M‘Kail, chaplain to Sir
James Stewart of Coltness and Goodtrees, did of
late, in a sermon preached by him in one of the
kirks of Edinburgh, most maliciously inveigh
against, and abuse his most sacred majesty, and the
present government in church and state, to the
great offence of God, and the stumbling of his
people; and that the said Sir James Stewart,
and Mr Walter his son were present, when said
sermon was preached, at least, were certainly in:
formed thereof; yet notwithstanding, did entertain
him in their family. As also, the said Mr Walter,
had emitted some speeches in a smithy, on a cer-
tain day, tending to sedition, especially anent
public differences—and had said that before busi-
ness went on long as it was going, a hundred thou-
sand would lose their lives in the three kingdoms.
--Therefore macers are ordered to cite them be-
fore the council against the 11th inst.”
Sir James got clear of these charges; but his
son, Mr Walter, on being examined, and witnesses
called, was found guilty of having uttered some-
thing tending to a spirit of liberty, and dislike of
the bishops. He was therefore imprisoned ; but
afterwards set at liberty.


M‘Kail returned to Scotland about the
year 1664, or 1665; but found the state
of the church much worse than when he
went abroad. A set of ignorant, illiterate
curates occupied the pulpits of the learned
and godly ministers who had been ejected;
and because they would not cease to pro-
claim the glad tidings of salvation, when
and wheresoever they could find oppor-
tunity, had been forced to wander upon the
mountains, and hide themselves in the
lonely glens of the wildest fastnesses which
the country afforded.
After his return, M‘Kail lived for the
most part at his father’s house ; but though
his days were spent in seclusion, they were
not allowed to pass in idleness. The sheep-
walks and valleys were his resort for prayer
and conference with those who were as
sheep without a shepherd; and to such per-
sons these were indeed times of refreshing,
—many of whom testified that he had
been with Jesus, advancing in knowledge
and true holiness; and, these things having
been reported to the curates, he became
so much the more the object of their im-
placable malice. His native land, which
had been once Beulah,——married to the
Lord—had forsaken her God, and there-
fore M‘Kail thought it a very befitting
time for weeping, and fasting, and prayer.
During one day in every week he poured
out his soul to God in godly sorrow for
his afflicted country; and it was observed,
that always after such exercises, he was
endowed with a large portion of divine
grace and strength, to impart consolation
to others, and to take comfort to himself,
of which he soon after stood so much in
need. The Spirit of God has not said in
vain, that “the secret of the Lord is with
them ‘that fear him ;” for, M‘Kail had
now an irradicable presentiment, that he
would one day fall into the hands of his
enemies, and die a martyr for the truth.
The prospect of that event, however, in


HUGH M‘KAIL.
447



no way dismayed him; for, to the sweet
experience of the “little flock” who were in
the habit of meeting him in his place of
retirement, he appeared as one coming
from the wilderness, “like pillars of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
and all the powders of the merchant.”
It was during the time he lived at his
father’s house, that the troubles in the
west country were excited by the cruelties
of Sir James Turner, who instigated his
soldiers to acts of extortion and cruelty,
unknown to, and unauthorized by, the
council.* From motives which he him-
self afterwards details, M‘Kail joined him-
self to those who then took up arms in
defence of presbyterianism, and marched
with them into Ayrshire. In this small
army of undisciplined men, there were other
ministers besides M‘Kail, all eager in de-
fence of the vilified cause. It was their
intention to march to Edinburgh with
their prisoner Turner, whose guilty con-
science kept him in constant alarm for his
life, which some would have had no ob-
jections that he should have been deprived
of; but he was saved by N eilson of Corsack,
a gentleman whom he had harassed above
measure.
moss between Cumnock and Muirkirk,.

Their route lay through a deep '
l
l
l
tion, and ill adapted for such a march in
such weather; for, only a little before this,
he had been confined to bed at Ayr, and
was accompanying the party on horseback.
Our limits will not permit us to detail the
movements of the Covenanters, and their
proceedings at Douglas, and Lanark, on
their way to the metropolis, farther than
that they renewed the Covenant at the
latter place, after a very moving sermon
by the Rev. Mr Guthrie of Tarbolton.
After the preacher had ended, the Cove-
nants were read over, article by article; at
the conclusion of each of which, the people
lifted up their hands, and sware unto the
Lord their God.—A writer of that period
says :-—“ It will be hard to parallel such
another company; so many together of
sound judgment, true piety, integrity of
heart, prudent zeal, undaunted courage
and resolution, and with so small a mixture
of persons of corrupt minds, profane con-
versation, and sinistrous ends: and, although
we would not be prodigal of men’s lives,
especially of saints, when there are so few
now to stand between the living and the
dead; yet that simple act of renewing the
Covenants gave more glory to God, and
was a greater testimony and advantage to
that covenanted cause, than (we hope) the
which they had to traverse during a heavy loss of so many as fell in its support.”
rain. M‘Kail was of a delicate constitu-
l
After leaving Lanark, they had a letter
from Sir James Stewart, encouraging
it One day some soldiers- were actually preparing % them to march forward to Edinburgh, and
to roast a poor old man alive, upon a large gridiron,
when they were desired by four countrymen to
desist. This interference only exasperated the
soldiers, and a scuffle ensued, in which the peasants
succeeded in disarming their antagonists, and re-
leasing their friend.
tary who were quartered in the parish would
avenge the quarrel of their comrades, they im-
1
Fearing lest the other mili- ;
mediately mustered a stronger party, and disarmed I
' that their friends were prevented from
the whole without harm to any but one who was
killed in resisting.
afraid of Turner’s resentment, when the circum-
Ii’ollowing up their success,--- ‘
stance should come to his kn owledge,—th ey marched '
on to Dumfries, took him prisoner, and disarmed
his troops.
informing them who were ready to join
them. By this advice, they were uninten-
tionally led into new difficulties; for,
while taking a hurried march by Bath-
gate, Sharp, alarmed at their approach, had
caused all the gates of the city to be shut,
and the passages guarded in such a way,
joining them, while Dalziel’s army cut off
all succour in the rear. Exhausted and
faint, M‘Kail was unable to proceed farther
than the water of Almond, at Cramond,



448
SCOTS WORTHIES.



from which place as he was making the
best of his way to Libberton, and passing
through Braid’s Crags, one Kennoway,
an officer of dragoons, with another per-
son, met him and made him prisoner.
Having been brought before the council
at Edinburgh, he was stripped and exa-
mined for letters, or other writings ; but
although none were found, he was com-
mitted to prison. Next day he was taken
before the earl of Dumfries, lord Sinclair
and others, and being interrogated concern-
ing the rebellion, refused to reply to sev-
eral of their questions ; which induced the
council to suspect he was possessed of
some secrets he was unwilling to divulge.
On Thursday, November 29th, M‘Kail
was again examined. He acknowledged
having been with the party in the west
country; but, even this would not satisfy the
council. They still imagined he could
make some important disclosures; and to
elicit them, that terrible instrument of
torture, the Boot,* was laid before him,
warning him, that he would certainly be
subjected to it, if he did not make confes-
sion. Having still preserved silence, he
was brought forward again ; and, although
the instrument was produced, reeking with
* This instrument was employed for the purpose
of extorting confession from criminals, and for
eliciting evidence against suspected persons. It
was a strong iron or wooden box, shaped like a


.kgg / h ;___,H’
mt. :2
numnm nnnnmlmm ‘WWW ~
ii lt'ilt hill . lililltll it!“ til llilltt l. llllltl l H l


iii : if "it l ill 1'-
[The Bat]
boot, and adapted to receive one or both legs.
\Vhere both legs were confined. as in the case of
Ravillac, the assassin of Henry IV. of France—
see his trial in Sully’s Memoirs, vol. v.—-a wedge
was driven between the knees by the force of a
mallet; and other wedges of increased thickness
1 AAHN—mm ~____--__._‘_~L______v ‘.___.___



the blood of Neilson of Corsack, the young
martyr suffered them to do their worst,
in torturing his limb beyond description,
Nothing, however, could the agonizing pain
extort. Before he received the last three
strokes, he protested before God, that he
had no disclosure to make, although all the
joints in his body were subjected to the
same usage. More he would not say than
that the rising in Galloway was caused
by the indiscretion of Sir James Turner.
Having suffered severely from the effects
of the torture, he petitioned the council to
delay proceedings against him. Two phy-
sicians and two surgeons were therefore ap-
pointed to visit him and report, which they
did, confirming the bad state of his health:
but the council allowed him only six days.
In the mean time, Anne, duchess of Hamil-
ton, and her mother-in-law, the marchioness
of Douglas, wrote to the earl of Rothes
in his favour, but their request was denied
-—and M‘ Kail,with other four, was brought
before lord Benton, justice clerk; and
Mr Murray, advocate depute. The prin-
cipal charges against M‘Kail were, “that
he had been at Ayr, Ochiltree, and Lanark,
with the rebels, on horseback, with a
sword,” 81.0.
were successively introduced, until the prisoner
gave way under the mortal agony occasioned by
the blows of the mallet. It is also recorded of
the celebrated Dr Fian, who was tried at Edin-
burgh for Sorcery, and tortured with the boots,
“wherein he continued for a long time, and did
abide so many blows in them, that his legs were
crushed and beaten together so small as might be,
and the bones and flesh so bruised, that the marrow
spouted forth in great abundance, whereby they
were made unserviceable for ever." When the
instrument was suited to receive only one of the legs
of the prisoner, the wedge was driven between the
edge of the boot and the knee. For a notice ofthe
application of this species of torture, perfectly har-
rowing in its details, see Old hilortality, chap. vii.;
and which, although found in a work of fiction,yet,
coming from the pen of Sir Walter Scott, may be
considered as possessing historical accuracy, and
cannot fail to impress the mind of the reader by
its appalling truthfulness-





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HUGH M'KAIL TORTURED WITH
1'} l 1; BOOT
HUGH M‘KAIL.
449




Having been permitted to speak to the
indictment although still very weak—
he rose and addressed the court with
great calmness; but at the same time with
the most undaunted fortitude‘. He said
that, from the conclusion of his indictment,
and from what had happened to others,
he looked upon himself as one appointed
to die, and therefore he would candidly
acknowledge that he was not ashamed of
belonging to that afflicted, persecuted
party, the Presbyterians. Adverting to
the charge of rebellion, he said, that simple
presence was his only accession to it; and
that only by his own extrajudicial confes-
sion. Indeed, there was nothing against
him but what he had himself admitted;
and therefore the advocate depute, having
again read over his confession to the
court, without any farther inquiry referred
the business entirely to them. The jury
having been called, gave in their verdict by
Sir \Yilliam Murray of Newton, their chan-
cellor.-—“ Finding Hugh M‘Kail guilty of
being with the rebels at several places,accord-
in g to his own confession before the council.”
The verdict being reported, his doom
was pronounced, declaring and adjudging
him to be taken, on Saturday, December
20th, to the market-cross of Edinburgh,
there to be hanged on a gibbet till dead,
and his goods and lands to be escheatcd
and forfeited for his majesty’s use. Upon
hearing this sentence he said, “ The Lord
giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed
be the name of the Lord.”
carried back to the tolbooth, through the

guards, the people making great lamenta- '
proved altogether ineffectual.
he immediately addressed himself to God in prayer, with great enlargement of heart, ,
in behalf of himself and those who were i the overcloudings of terror, that sometimes
i the best of men, through the frailty of flesh
tion for him. After he came to his chamber,
condemned with him. To a friend he
afterwards said, “ O how good news; to
be within four days journey of cnjoymg
the sight of Jesus Christ !” and protested, ,
He was then
“ he was not so cumbered 'how to die, as
he had sometimes been to preach a sermon.”
To some women lamenting for him, he
said, “ That his condition, though he was
but young, and in the budding of his hopes
and labours in the ministry, was not to be
mourned ; for one drop of my blood,
through the grace of God, may make more
hearts contrite, than many years’ sermons
might have done.”
The same afternoon he supplicated the
council for liberty to his father to visit
him, which being granted, his father came
next night, with whom he conversed a
little concerning obedience to parents.
After prayer, his father said to him,
“Hugh, I called thee a goodly olive-tree
of fair fruit, and now a storm hath de-
stroyed the tree and his fruit !”-to which
M‘ Kail answered, “ that his too good opinion
of him afflicted him.” His father replied,
“ He was persuaded God was visiting, not
his own sins, but his parents’ sins, so that
he might say, Our fathers have sinned and
we have borne their iniquity,”—adding, “ 1
have sinned; thou poor sheep, what hast
thou done '?” M‘Kail answered with many
groans, “ That, through coming short of
the fifth commandment, he had come short
of the promise, that his days should be pro-
longed in the land of the living; and that
God’s controversy with his father was for
overvaluin g his children, especially himself.”
Upon the 20th of December, through
the importunity of friends more than his
own inclination, he gave in a petition to
the council, craving their clemency, after
having declared his innocence; but it
During his
abode in prison, the Lord was very graciously
present with him, both in sustaining him
against the fears of death, and by expelling
and blood, are subject to. He was also
wonderfully assisted in prayer and praise


3 L
450
SCOTS WORTHIES.








to the admiration of all the hearers;
especially on Thursday night, when, being
at supper with his fellow-prisoners, his
father, and one or two more, he said
somewhat cheerfully, “ Eat to the full, and
cherish your bodies, that we may be a fat
christmas-pie to the prelates !” After
supper, he broke forth into several ex-
prcssions, both concerning himself and the
church of God, and at last used that ex»
clamation in the last of Daniel, “IVhat,
Lord, shall be the end of these wonders?”
The last night of his life he pro-
posed and answered several questions for
strengthening his fellow-prisoners, such
as z—How should he go from the tolbooth
through a multitude of gazing people, and
guards of soldiers, to a scaffold and gibbet,
and overcome the impression of all this?
He answered, by conceiving a deeper im—
pression of a multitude of angels, who are
on-lookers; according to that scripture,
“We are a gazing stock to the world,
angels, and men ;” for, the angels rejoicing
at our good confession, are present to
convey and carry our souls to Abraham’s
bosom; not to receive them, for that is
Jesus Christ’s work, who will welcome
them to heaven himself, with the songs of
angels and blessed spirits. What is the
way for us to conceive of heaven, who are
hastening to it, seeing the word saith,
“ Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,” &c.?
To this he answered, that the Scripture
helps us two ways to conceive of heaven,
1. By way of similitude, as in Rev. xxi.,
where heaven is held forth by the repre-
sentation of a glorious city, &c. 2. By
holding forth the love of the saints to
Jesus Christ, and teaching us to love him
in sincerity, which is the very joy and
exultation of heaven.
The last words he spoke at supper were
in the commendation of love above know-
ledge:—“ O but notions of knowledge
Without love are of small worth, evanishing

in nothing, and very dangerous!” After
supper, his father having given thanks, he
read the 16th psalm, and then said, “ If
there were anything in the world sadly
and unwillingly to be left, it were the
reading of the Scriptures. I said I shall
not see the Lord in the land of the living;
but this needs not make us sad, for where
we go, the Lamb is the book of Scripture,
and the light of that city; and there is
life, even the river of the water of life, and
living springs,” the. Supper being ended,
he called for a pen, saying, it was to write.
his testament in which he ordered some
few books he had to be delivered to
several persons. He went to bed about
eleven o’clock, and slept till five in the
morning, when he rose and called for his
companion, John \Vodrow, saying plea-
santly, “ Up, John, for you are too long
in bed; you and I look not like men going
to be hanged to—day, seeing we lie so long!”
After some short discourse, John said.
“ You and I shall be chambered shortly
beside Mr Robertson !” M‘Kail answered,
“ John, I fear you bar me out, because
you were more free before the council than
I was; but I shall be as free as any of
you upon the scaffold!” He then prayed
with great fervency, pleading his covenant
relation with God, and that they might
be enabled that day to witness a good con-
fession before many witnesses. His father
then bade him farewell; to whom, after
prayer, he said, his sufferings would do
more hurt to the prelates, and be more
edifying to God’s people, than if he were
to continue in the ministry twenty years.
Desiring his father to leave him, and go
to his chamber, he prayed earnestly to the
Lord to be with him on the scaffold; for
“ how to carry there is my care, even that
I may be strengthened to endure to the
end.”
About two o’clock, afternoon, he was
brought to the scaffold, with other five

<——_.,_._
HUGH M‘KAIL.
451



who suffered with him; where, in the
opinion of all who formerly knew him, he
had a fairer and more composed counte-
nance than ever they had before observed.
Being come to the foot of the ladder, he
directed his speech to the multitude on the
north, saying, “that as his years in the
world had been but few, his words should
not be many ;” after which he delivered
with a firm voice the subsequent speech
and testimony which he had before writ—
ten and subscribed.
He then sung a part of the 31st psalm,
and prayed with such power and fervency,
as caused many to weep bitterly; after which
he gave away his hat and cloak. When
he took hold of the ladder to go up, he said
with an audible voice, “I care no more to
go up this ladder, and over it, than if I were
going home to my father’s house!” Hear-
ing a noise among the people, he called
down to his fellow-sufferers, saying, “ Friends
and fellow-sufferers, be not afraid; every
step of this ladder is a degree nearer hea-
ven !”-—and, having seated himself thereon,
he said, “ I do partly believe that the noble
counsellors and rulers of this land would
have used some mitigation of this punish-
ment, had they not been instigated by the
prelates; so that our blood lies principally
at their door; but this is my comfort now,
that I know that my Redeemer liveth.
And now I do willingly lay down my life
for the truth and cause of God, the Cove-
nants and works of Reformation, which
were once counted the glory of this nation ;
and it is for endeavouring to defend this, and
to extirpate that bitter root of Prelacy, that
I embrace this rope,”-—the executioner then
putting the rope about his neck. Hearing
the people weep, he said, “ Your work is not
to weep but to pray that we may be hon-
ourably borne through; and blessed be the
Lord that supports me now. As I have been
indebted to the prayers and kindness of
many since my imprisonment and sentence,
so I hope you will not be wanting to me
now, in the last step of my journey, that I
may witness a good confession ; and that ye
may know what the ground of my encour-
agement in this work is, I shall read to you
from the last chapter of the Bible, my glory
and reward, “ Let him that is athirst come ;”
and here you see my welcome, “ The Spirit
and the bride say, Come.” He then said,
“ I have still a word to say to my friends”
——looking down the scaffold—“ Where are
you? You need neither lament nor be
ashamed of me in this condition, for I make
use of that expression of Christ, ‘ I go to
your Father and my Father, to your God
and my God,’ to your King and my King,
to the blessed apostles and martyrs, ‘and
to the city of the living God, the heavenly
Jerusalem, to an innumerable company
of angels, to the general assembly of the
first-born, to God the judge of all, to the
spirits of just men made perfect, and to
Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant ;’
and I bid you all farewell, for God will be
more comfortable to you than I could be,
and he will be now more refreshing to me
than you can be—Farewell, farewell, in
the Lord!” Then the napkin being put
over his face, he prayed a little, and, put-
ting it up again with his hand, said he had
a word more to say concerning what com-
fort he had in his death. “ I hope you per-
ceive no alteration or discouragement in my
countenance and carriage; and as it may
be your wonder, so I profess it is a wonder
to myself; and I will tell you the reason of
it. Besides the justice of my cause, this is
my comfort, that when Lazarus died, the
angels did carry his soul to Abraham’s
bosom; so that as there is a great solem~
nity here, a scaffold, a gallows, people look
ing out of windows; so there is a greater
and more solemn preparation of angels to
carry my soul to Christ’s besom. Again,
this is farther my comfort, that it is to

come to Christ’s hand, and he will pre.



4:52
SCOTS WORTHIES.






sent it blameless and faultless to the Fa- l;ath, heavy were the groans of those pre'
ther, and then shall I be ever with the
Lord. And now I leave off speaking
any more to creatures, and begin my in-
tercourse with God, which shall never be
broken off—Farewell father and mother,
friends and relations ;—Farewell the world
and all delights ;-- Farewell meat and drink;
—-Farewell sun, moon, and stars ;—Wel-
come God and Father ;—Welcome sweet
Jesus Christ, the Mediator of the new co-
venant;——\Velcome blessed Spirit of grace,
and God of all consolation ;—Welcome
glory ;—Welcome eternal life ;——and, Wel—
come death!”
He then desired the executioner not to
turn him off until he himself should put
over his shoulders,—-which, after praying a
little within himself, he did, saying, “ C
Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit,
for thou hast redeemed my soul, 0 Lord
God of truth !”—-and thus, in the 26th
year of his age, he died as he had lived in
the Lord,—
" Shouting forth with his expiring breath,
The great Redeemer’s praise. Triumphant leap’d
Into the monster Death’s devouring jaws,
And made his hollow vaults, while passing through,
With hallelujahs ring. Thus Stephen died."
His death was so much lamented by the
spectators, that there was scarcely a dry
cheek in all the streets and windows about
the cross of Edinburgh, at the time of his
execution. A celebrated historian gives
him this character, that, “ he was a youth
of 26 years of age, universally beloved, sin-
gularly pious, and of very considerable
learning. He had seen the world, and
travelled some years abroad, and was a very
comely and graceful person. I am told,”
said he, “ that he used to fast one day every
week, and had frequently, before this, sig-
nified to his friends his impression of such a
death as he now underwent. His share in
the rising Was known to be but small; and
when he spoke of his comfort and oy in his

sent.”
Meanwhile, Mackail’s fellow-sufferers,
being men of little education, who
“ lived unknown,
Till persecution dragged them into fame,
And chased them up to heaven,”
spoke their last testimonies with such meek-
ness and patience towards their enemies,
with such greatness of soul, piety, and good
sense, that they were an admiration to all.
Those who knew them before were con-
vinced that it was given them from on high
what they should speak. John Wvodrow ;
Michael Shields, an Englishman; John
Wilson of Ayr; and Humphrey Colquhoun,
were like men in the suburbs of heaven.
Colquhoun called for his Bible, laid it on his
wounded arm, and read from it apposite
passages, to the astonishment of all. When
they were taken in battle, they had
the promise of life; but, to gratify the pri~
mate’s rage and cruelty, they were put to
death, contrary to all law; and, what is
more, contrary to king Charles’ order, that
no more lives should be taken in the quar~
rel. Bishop Burnet had brought the king’s
order to this effect, to Sharp, as head of the
council, who had connived at its being kept
secret, till Mackail and his brethren were
cut off.
TESTIMONY
or
HUGH M‘KAIL.
“ Being by a great surprisal of providence,
thus staged before the world, in a matter
of so universal concernment to all that fear
God, and desire to be steadfast in his cov-~
enant, I could not forbear to leave behind
me this standing testimony, concerning the
occasion and. uses thereof, for the glory of
God, and the vindication of my profession
from the aspersions cast thereon by men.

;‘
HUGH M‘KAI L.


and the edification of those by my death,
to whom I had devoted my life in the
work of the ministry.
“ I have esteemed the government of this
church by Presbytery, to be among the chief
of the ordinances of Jesus Christ, which by
his blood he has purchased, and ascended
up on high to bestow as a gift upon it; as
being the very gospel ministry in its
simplicity and purity from the inventions
of men, and so the mean by which other
ordinances are administered, and the
most fundamental truths made effectual in
the hearts of his people, and therefore that
it ought with that same carefulness to be
contended for. Experience, both of the
having and wanting of it, hath given it. this
epistle of commendation, so that it may be
both known and read of all men ; which is
also true of the solemn engagements of the
nation thereto, by the National Covenant,
the Solemn League and Covenant, which
Ihave esteemed in their rise and renew-
ing, pregnant performances of that pro-
mise, Isa. xliv. 5., where it is evident, that
where church reformations come to any
maturity, they arrive at this degree of say-
ing, ‘ I am the Lord’s ; and subscribing with
the hand unto the Lord.’ So was it in the
days of the reforming kings of Judah, and
after the restoration from the captivity in
the days of Nehemiah. This same promise
did the Lord Jesus make yea and amen to
us, when he redeemed us from spiritual
Babylon; which is so much the greater
evidence, that these were the very motions
of God’s Spirit in our first reformers, that
they were expressly designed against the
greatest motions of the spirit of darkness
in antichrist and his supporters, and against
the greatest confirmations that ever these
abominations attained by the decrees of the
council of Trent, and that bloody bond
called the Holy League. And therefore,
whatever indignity is done to these cove-
nants, I do esteem to be no less than doing

despite unto the Spirit of grace in his most
eminent exerting of himself, but especially
declaring against the same as flowing from a
spirit of sedition and rebellion, to be a sin
of the same nature with theirs, who ascribed
Christ’s casting out of devils to Beelzebub;
and that, with this aggravation, that these
Scribes and Pharisees came never the length
of professing Christ, and submitting them-
selves to him and his ways.
“ But we are condemned to death upon
the account of this covenant, for adhering
to the duties therein sworn to, by such as
once did as much themselves as we have
done, and some of them more than some
of us: which considerations have moved me
to great fears of God’s wrath against the
land, according to the curse that we are
bound under, if we should break that cov-
enant, and in the fear of it, many times to
pour out my soul before the Lord; and as
soon as I heard of a party up in arms in
behalf of the covenant, (all other doors be-
ing shut, whereby the redress of the many
violations of it might be obtained ; and these
by manifest and unheard of violence ob-
truded upon others to go along with them,)
being bound by that covenant against de-
testable indifference and neutrality in this
matter, and to esteem every injury, done to
any engaged in this covenant upon account
of it, as done to myself,-—very conscience
of duty urged me to this against some re-
luctancy of fear of what might follow.
Upon the same reasons, at Lanark, with
the rest I declared my adherence to the
covenant, by my lifting up of my hand, after
the articles thereof were read.
“And here I cannot but with grief of
heart acknowledge my fainting in a day of
trial, that, being engaged with them upon
such accounts, I many times in fear designed
to withdraw, and at length did, which, as it
was the occasion of my falling into the
hands of the enemy, so I think among other
l things it was the cause why God delivered




45f
SCOTS WORTHIES.




me into their hands. Upon the same fear,
in all my examinations I have denied my
engagement with them, and endeavoured to
vindicate myself by asserting the real de-
signs I had to part from them, and have
utterly cast away the glory of a testimony,
which my very being in their company, as
a favourer of the ends of the covenant, and
as one willing to contribute my best endeav-
ours for the promoting of them, but especi-
ally my declaring for the covenant, did bear
unto the truth and ordinances of Jesus Christ
against this untoward generation; this I
confess to be no less than a denying of
Jesus Christ, and a being ashamed of his
words before men; but I hope the Lord,
who remembereth that we are but frail
dust, shall not lay it to my charge, and ac-
cording to his faithfulness and grace will
forgive me, who by this public confession,
take to myself shame and confusion of face,
and fly to the propitiation offered to all sin-
ners in Jesus Christ. And these things, as
they have procured this death to me as an
act of God’s justice; so they mind me of
other evils in mine own heart, that have
been the source of" this my unwillingness,
to take on Christ’s cross. My heart hath
not studied to maintain that spirituality in
walking with God, and edifying exemplari-
ness with others, that became one that had
received the first-fruits of the Spirit, and
aimed at the ministry of the gospel, living
in times of so much calamity for the church
of God, and particular afiiictions as to my-
self. If I had spent my days in groan-
ing after my house from heaven, would I
have shifted so fair occasion of being clothed
with it? Alas, that I have loved my Lord
and Master Jesus Christ so little! Alas,
that I have done so little service to him; that
I have so little labour to follow me to my
everlasting rest! This I speak to these
especially, with whom I have familiarly
conversed in my pilgrimage, that, seeing
the Lord will not grant me life to testify

my real reformation of these things, my
acknowledgment at death may have in~
fluence upon them, to study not only god-
liness but the power of it.
“ As I acknowledge that I have not been
free and ingenuous in these particulars
forementioned, so in other things, wherein
I interponed that holy name of God, as to
not being upon the contrivance of this ris-
ing in arms, nor privy to any resolution
thereanent, nor conscious of any intelligence
at home or abroad concerning it, I was
most ingenuous; and they have wronged me
much, who said that I denied upon oath,
that which they were able to make out
against me, or knew to be truth; but none
allege perjury against me, but such as are
so manifestly guilty of it before the world,
that their tongues in such allegations are
no slander.
“ Although I be judged and condemned
as a rebel amongst men, yet I hope, even in
order to this action to be accepted as loyal
before God. Nay, there can be no great-
er act of loyalty to the king, as the times
now go, than for every man to do his ut-
most for the extirpation of that abominable
plant of prelacy, which is the bane of the
throne, and the country: which, if it be not
done, the throne shall never be established
in righteousness, until these wicked be re-
moved from before it. Sure I am, those
who are now condemned as rebels against i
him, by them, are such as have spent much
time in prayer for him, and do more sin~
cerely wish his standing, and have endeav-
oured it more by this late action so much
condemned, than the prelates by condem-
ning them to death.
“ This disaster hath heightened greatly
the afflictions of our church, and ought to
teach all of you to drink the wine of aston-
ishment. Ye have not known tribulation till
now. Now we judge thgm happy that are
fallen asleep, and removed far away, and
know that God hath been taking away


HUGH M‘KAIL.
455



come. Know that God’s design is, to
make many hearts contrite, that have
been formerly too whole, and have not
lamented sufficiently the removal of his or-
dinances and ministry, and the reproach
rubbed upon the work of reformation. Be-
ware that your sorrow be not a momentary
motion of common compassion, that evan-
isheth, when it may be, there is some inter-
mission in this violent course of shedding
innocent blood; but labour to have a con-
stant impression that may sanctify the
heart ; nay, ye should live much in the ap-
prehension of approachingjudgment. Cer-
tainly the withdrawing of many from us,
and not contributing their help to the great
work they were engaged to, as well as
we; the general rising against us in many
places of the country; but, above all, this
open shedding of the blood of the saints,
which involveth the land in the guiltiness
of all the righteous blood shed from the
foundation of the world, have made Scot-
land fit fuel for the fire of God’s wrath. I
can say nothing concerning times to come,
but this, ‘ All things shall work together for
good to them that love God ;’ and so this
present dispensation. And they shall have
most comfort in this promise, who are most
willing that such afflictions as we are
brought to be the way that God chooseth
to work their good.
“ Commit wholly the management of all
matters to God, and make it your entire
study, night and day, to keep your very
garments clean. It is hard in times of so
general corruptions not to be defiled one
way or other. Be free of the sins as ye
would be of the judgments, which will cer-
tainly be such as will make all the churches
know that God is the searcher of the hearts,
and trier of the reins, Rev. ii. 23. and so will
not be mocked by these pretences, whereby
men colour their going along in an evil



his servants from the evils that were to | a present world. If simple presence
amongst them who are esteemed rebels by
men be sufficient to engage them in the
crime and punishment, (for that is all the
ground of my condemnation,) shall not God
be much more zealous of his own glory,
against all who so much as seem to go
along with this course of backsliding?
“ As a good mean and encouragement
to all the duties of our time, labour to be
rooted and grounded in the love of Jesus
Christ. This will be tender of anything
that may have the least reflection upon him,
his words or works, and will prompt the
soul to zealous appearing for him, at the
greatest hazard, and to as much willingness
to die for him, as to live that they may
glorify him. And for the encouragement
of you all in this matter, I do declare, that
ever since the day of my coming into pri-
son, God hath kept my soul free from all
amazement or fear of death ; that since my
indictment and sentence, God hath so mani-
fested himself at several times, that he hath
lifted up my soul above prelates, principal-
ities, and powers, death, and hell, to rejoice
and be glad in his salvation ; and from my
soul to account him worthy, for whom, in
this his cause, I should undergo the great-
est shame or pain ; and to the assured hopes
of eternal communion with him in heaven;
and that nothing hath more brangled my
peace, than shifting an open and free testi-
mony before my examinators, to the work
that I was engaged in.
“ I do freely pardon all that have acces-
sion to my blood, and wish that it be not
laid to the charge of this sinful land, and
that God would grant repentance to our
rulers, that they may obtain the same re-
conciliation with him, whereof Imyself do
partake. Truly, I believe many of them,
if not instigated by the cruel prelates, (at
whose door our blood doth principally lie,)
' would have used more mitigation; but that
course, from the real love that they have to , reluctancy of mind to shed blood will be so


456
SCOTS WORTHIES.


far ‘from vindicating of them, that, upon the
contrary, it will be a witness against them
in the day of the Lord.
“ I heartily submit myself to death, as
that which God hath appointed to all men
because of sin, and to this particular way
of it, as deserved by my particular sins. I
praise God for this fatherly chastisement,
whereby he hath made me in part, and will
make me perfectly partaker of‘his holiness.
I glorify him that called me forth to suffer
for his name and ordinances, and the so-
lemn engagements of the land to him, and
that he hath taken this way to take me.
away from the evil to come. The Lord
bless all his poor afflicted groaning people
that are behind.
“ Hereafter, I will not talk with flesh
and blood, nor think on the world’s conso-
lations. Farewell all my friendsnvhose com~ ‘

i
l
l
l
:
.
I
l
l

pany hath been refreshing to me in my pil-
grimage; I have done with the light of the
sun and the moon. Welcome eternal life,
everlasting love, everlasting praise, everlast-
ing glory! Praise to him that sits upon
the throne, and to the Lamb for ever!
Though I have not been so with thee as I
ought to have been in the house of my pil-
grimage, yet ‘thou hast made with me an
everlasting covenant, ordered in all things
and sure: and this is all my salvation, and
all my desire.’ Bless the Lord, 0 my soul,
that hath pardoned all mineiniquities in the
blood of his Son, and healed all my diseases!
‘ Bless him, 0 all ye his angels that excel in
strength, ye ministers that do his pleasure I
Bless the Lord, O my soul!’ Hallelujah!
“Sic Sub—HUGH M‘KAIL.”
_ “ EDINBURGH TOLBOOTH.
Dec. 22, 1666.”

JOHN NEVAY.
JOHN NEVAY was licensed and ordained a
minister in the time of Scotland’s purest
reformation, and settled at Newmills in
the parish of Loudon. Besides his sound-
ness in the faith, he was a man of remark—
able piety in conversation, and great dili-
gence in attending to all the parts of his
ministerial function. In church-judicato-
ries he was particularly zealous in contend-
ing against the several steps of defection,
that were contrary to the work of refor-
mation carried on in that period.
When the earl of Callendar and major-
general Middleton were cruelly harassing
the Covenanters, and well-affected people
in the west of Scotland, because they
would not join in the Duke of Hamilton’s
unlawful engagement in war against Eng-
land, Nevay was one of those ministers who

_____,____.__.__
assembled at the celebration of the Lord’s
Supper at Mauchlin-moor, in June, 1648,
where opposition in their own defence was
made to Callendar and llliddleton’s forces,
being attacked by them there upon the
last day of that solemnity? Besides, when
the Assembly held at Edinburgh and St
Andrews, in 1651, approved and ratified
the public resolutions for restoring the
malignants to places of power and trust in
judicatories and armies, Nevay was one of
those who faithfully witnessed and protest-
ed against that unhappy course.
And, as a conclusion to the whole, when
that chief of malignants, Charles II., was
‘’ Bishop Guthrie says, that the chief managers
here were Messrs William Airdir, William Guth-
rie, and John Nevay; and that the Covenanters
were of foot 2000, and horse 500 strong.


JOHN NEVAY.
457

restored as king over these lands—in con-
sequence of which the whole of our cov-
enanted work of reformation, which for
some time had flourished, began to be de-
faced and overturned—Nevay, being the
earl of Loudon’s chaplain, and very much
esteemed by him, was, Nov. 18, 1662, by
order of the council, cited, with some
others, to repair to Edinburgh, and appear
before the council, on the 9th of December
thereafter. He did not, however, compear
until the 23d, when he was examined; and,
upon his refusing the oath of allegiance,
he was banished, in terms of the following
bond :—
“ I, JOHN NEVAY, minister of the gospel
at Newmills, bind and oblige myself to re~
move furth of the king’s dominions, and not
to return under pain of death; and that I
shall remove before the first of February;
and that I shall not remain within the dio-
ceses of Glasgow and Edinburgh in the
mean time. Subscribed, at Edinburgh,
December 23.
“JOHN NEVAY.”
Having taken leave of his old parishion-
ers, with a sorrowful heart, he prepared for
his journey, and went to Holland, where
for some years he preached to such as
would hear him; and yet all the while he
displayed the affection of a dear and lov-
ing pastor to his old parishioners of Lou-
don, both by sending them sermons and
letters, in which he not only exhorted
them to steadfastness in midst of tempta-
tion, but even showed a longing desire to
return to his native land and parish, as ap-
pears from a letter, written some time be-
fore his death, dated, Rotterdam, October}
22, 1668 :*——“ I can do no more than pray


I have not whereof to glory, but much
whereof I am ashamed, and which may
make me go mourning to my grave; but
if you stand fast, I live. You are all my
crown and joy in this earth, next to the joy
of Jerusalem and her King, and I hope to
have some of you my joy and crown in our
Father’s kingdom, besides those that are
gone before us, and entered into the joy of
the Lord. I have not been altogether
ignorant of the changes and wars that
have been amongst you—deep calling
unto deep—nor how the Lord did sit on
all your floods as King, and did give you
many times some more ease than others;
and you wanted not your share in the
most honourable testimony that ever was
given to the truth and kingdom of Christ
in that land, since the days of Messrs
Patrick Hamilton, George Wishart, and
Walter Mill, &c., martyrs.”
That Nevay was no ordinary divine in
his day, is fully evident, from an act of
the General Assembly, in 1647; in which
he was nominated one of four ministers,
appointed to revise and correct Rouse’s
Paraphrase of David’s Psalms in Metre,
—of which he had the last thirty—and
also that elegant Paraphrase of his upon
the Song of Solomon, in Latin verse.
Both of these show him to have been a
man not only of profound judgment, but
very rare and singular abilities.
Prefixed to the sermons of the Rev.
James Borstius, an eminent Dutch divine,
at Rotterdam, will be found two copies of
Latin stanzas, signed, Joannes Nevius,
Scotus; the former of which is a para-
phrase of Isaiah ii. 1—5, consisting of
seventy—two lines, very creditable, indeed,
for you; and if I (;Ould do that W61], 1 had ‘ to the piety and scholarship of the writer.
done almost all that is required.
Iaml
Nevay’s son married Sarah von Brake],
not worthy of the esteem you have of me; 3 Whose Poetlca! Powers are famumbly ex‘
* In 1670, Charles II. made application to the
l hibited in her elegy upon a popular preach-
‘ er, and a kind friend to the British refu-
States General to remove Nevay and others fromtbe .
Dutch territories—Steven's Hist. oft/16 C/mrc/z. . gees-
In the year 1737, there was pub-



3 n
458
SCOTS WORTHIES.



_ i

lished at the Hague, the fourth edition of]
a small tract, by Sarah Nevius, entitled,
“ The Devout Disciple taught by the Lord
Jesus himself.”
There are fifty-two sermons, or rather
notes of sermons, of Nevay’s published,

upon the nature, properties, blessings, &c.
of the Covenant of Grace, in 8V0; thirty-
nine sermons on Christ’s Temptations, in
manuscript, all of which were sent over
from Holland, for the benefit of his old
parishioners of Newmills.

JOHN LIVINGSTONE.

THE subject of this memoir was born in
1603. He was son of Mr William Living-
stone, minister at Kilsyth, but afterwards
removed to Lanark. He was nearly re-
lated to the house of Callendar. After
having taught his son to read and write, he
sent him to the Grammar school of Stir-
ling, under Mr Wallace, a pious and learn-
ed man, where he, continued till summer
1617, when he returned home. In Octo-
ber following he was sent to the college of
Glasgow, where he remained four years.
In 1621, he' passed Master of Arts.
After this he lived with his father till
he began to preach, during which time he
observed the Lord’s great goodness, that
he had been born of parents who taught
him the principles of religion as soon as he
was capable of understanding anything.
In his own historical account of his life, he
does not remember either the manner or
time, particularly, when the Lord first
wrought upon his heart; only, when but
very young, he would sometimes pray with
feeling, and read the word, with delight;
but afterward often intermitted such exer-
cises. He had no inclination for the min-
istry, till a year or more after he had pass-
ed his course at college, when he had a
strong desire to study medicine, and go to
France for that purpose; but his father
refused to comply. About this time his i
father, having purchased some land in the i found before.

parish of Kilsyth, caused the title deeds to
be drawn out in his son’s name, proposing
that he should marry and live there.
Against this, however, he remonstrated,
fearing it might divert him from his stud-
ies. In the midst of these straits, he
resolved to set apart a day by himself to
implore God for more special direction; and
for this purpose he accordingly retired to
Cleghorn Wood, about a mile from Lanark,
where, after much uneasiness regarding
the state of his soul, he thought it was
made out to him, that he behoved to
preach Jesus Christ; which, if he did not,
he should have no assurance of salvation.
Upon this, laying aside all thoughts of other
things, he betook himself to the study of
divinity. He continued a year and a half
in his father’s house, studying and some-
times preaching; during which time he
wrote all his sermons before he preached
them, till one day, being to preach after
the communion at Quodquhan, and having
in readiness a sermon which he had preach-
ed elsewhere one day before, but perceiv-
ing several persons present who had heard
him preach it, he resolved to choose
a new text, writing only some notes of the
heads he was to deliver; yet, he says, he
found, at that time, more assistance in en-
larging upon these points, and more emo-
tion in his own heart, than he had ever
He never afterwards wrote










JOHN LIVINGS'I'ONE.
459




any more sermons, excepting only notes for
the help of his memory.
About April, 1626, he was invited by
Lord Kenmure to Galloway, in reference
to a call to the parish of Anwoth; but
some hinderance intervening, this design
was laid aside. In the following autumn,
he responded to another call from Tor-
phichen ; but this proved also unsuccessful.
After this he resided for some time with
the earl of Wigton, assisting for the most
part upon sacramental occasions, particu-
larly at Lanark, Irvine, Newmills, and the
Kirk of Shotts. He used to say that he
experienced more of the divine presence, in
preaching at the latter place, than at any
other, and particularly refers to Monday,
21st June, 1630, the day after a commu-
nion, when, having spent the previous night
in prayer with some pious christians, he
felt such freedom and enlargement of mind,
as he had never experienced before. He
had been visited with such misgivings of
spirit, when reflecting upon his own weak-
ness and unworthiness, and the expectations
of the people, that he thought to have
withdrawn privately, and declined the
appointment; but fearing to distrust Him
who has said :-——“ I will never leave thee,
nor forsake thee,” he entered upon the
duty, choosing for his text, Ezek. xxxvi.
25, 26:—“ Then will I sprinkle clean water
upon you, and ye shall be clean; from all
your filthiness,” 810. Here he was led
out in such a melting strain, that, by the
outpouring of the Spirit, a very percep-
tible change was wrought upon about 500
hearers, who could either date their con-
version, or some remarkable confirmation,
from that day?!‘ He farther adds :—“ Some
little of that stamp remained on me the
Thursday after, when preaching at Kil—
marnock ; but on the Monday following,
preaching at Irvine, I was so deserted, that
" See Fulfilling of the Scriptures, part i. p. 434.
Vvodrow‘s History, vol. i. p. 143.

what I had meditated upon, written, and
kept fully in memory, I could not get pro-
nounced ; which so discouraged me, that I
resolved not to preach for some time,—-at
least at Irvine; but Mr Dickson would
not suffer me to go from thence, till I
preached next sabbath, which I did with
some freedom.”
Being at Irvine the same summer, he
received an invitation from Clanniboy, to
come to Ireland, in reference to a call from
Killinchie; and, seeing no appearance of
an appointment in Scotland, he went
thither, and got a unanimous call from
that parish. Here he laboured with the
utmost assiduity among a people who had
been both rude and profane before, but
soon became the most experienced Chris-
tians in that part of the country. But he
had not been above a year there until he
was suspended by the bishop of Down.
He remained under that sentence, until
May, 1632; when, by the intercession of
Lord Castlestuart, a warrant was granted
by the king for his restoration.
Soon after, he married the eldest
daughter of Mr Bartholomew Fleming, a
merchant in Edinburgh; but in little more
than three years he was again deposed and
excommunicated. Seeing no prospect of
liberation either to ministers or professors,
be embraced the resolution of going to
New England with other ministers in the
same situation; but the expedition proving
unsuccessful, as we have already more than
once narrated, he returned to Scotland, and
took up his abode for a time with Mr
Dickson, at Irvine. His stay, however,
was short, as he soon after took his depar-
ture for Edinburgh.
About the beginning of March, 1638,
when the great body of the nation were
about to renew their testimony, he was
despatched to London with copies of the
Covenant, and letters to friends; but he
had been there only a few days, when the


460
SCOTS WORTHIES.




Marquis of Hamilton informed him that
he overheard the king say, Livingstone had
come, but he would put a pair of fetters
about his feet. Alarmed for his safety, he
bought a horse and came home by St
Alban’s and the western road. He was
present at Lanark and other places when
the Covenant was sworn; and, except at
the kirk of Shotts, as already noticed, he
says, he never witnessed such emotions of
the Spirit,-—all the people so generally and
willingly concurring; yea, thousands of per-
sons all at once lifting up their hands, with
the tears flowing from their eyes; so that,
through the whole land, the people almost
universally entered into covenant with God,
for the reformation of religion against pre-
lacy and its obnoxious ceremonies.
In 1638, Livingstone received a call,
both from Stranraer in Galloway, and
Straiton in Carrick; but he referred the
matter to Messrs Blair, Dickson, Cant,
Henderson, Rutherford, and his father;
who, having heard both parties, advised
him to Stranraer; to which charge he was
admitted by the presbytery, upon the 5th
of July, 1638, where he remained, in the
faithful discharge of his ministry, until
autumn 1648, when he was, by the nomi-
nation of the General Assembly, translated
to Ancrum in Teviotdale. Here he found
the people tractable; but so very ignorant,
and some of them so very loose in their
morals, that it was a long time before any
competent number of them were brought
to such a condition that he could ven-
ture to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. By
his diligence, however, through the grace
of God not a few began to lay religion to
heart.
In 1649, the parliament and church of
Scotland sent commissioners to treat with
the king at the Hague, in order to his
admission; but they returned without
satisfaction. However, in summer 1650,
the parliament sent other commissioners

to prosecute the foresaid treaty at Breda,
when the commission of the kirk chost.
Messrs Livingstone, Wood, and Hutcheson,
ministers; with the Lords Cassillis and
Brodie, as ruling elders, that, in name of the
church they should present and prosecute
their wishes. For several reasons Living-
stone was very unwilling to comply; the
chief of which was, he still suspected the
king not to be right at heart in respect of
the true presbyterian religion; observing,
at the same time, that many in the king-
dom were ready to receive the king home
upon any terms; but he was at length
prevailed upon by Messrs Dickson, James
Guthrie, and Patrick Gillespie, to yield
compliance. After much conference and
reasoning with his majesty at Breda, how~
ever, the commissioners were not like to
come to any satisfactory conclusion.
Livingstone observed that Charles still
continued the use of the service-book and
his chaplains, and frequently spent the night
in balls and other public parties. This,
with many other things, made him con-
clude there would be no blessing on that
treaty; which, to his unspeakable grief,
was at last concluded. Some time after,
the king set sail for Scotland, but Living-
stone refused to go on board with the
party ; and certainly would not have done
so, but for the following stratagem. When
lord Brodie and Mr Hutcheson saw that
they could not prevail upon him to come on
board, they solicited him, before parting, to
come into the ship at least, to speak of some
urgent matters; which having done, the
boat, in the mean time, that should have
waited his return, made straight for the shore
without him. The king now agreed with
the commissioners to swear and subscribe
the Covenants, National and Solemn
League ; but Livingstone, judging that such
a rash and precipitate swearing of the
Covenants would not be for the honour
of the cause they were embarked in, did




JOHN LI VINGS TONE.
461


all he could to deter Charles and the com- j
missioners from doing so until they came '
to Scotland.
would dissuade the king from his purpose,
compliance was granted; but Livingstone
afterwards remarked, that the commission-
ers, nay, the whole kingdom—not even ex-
cepting the church—were highly culpable in
When nothing, however,


restoring him to the government, without
any real evidence of a change having been
wrought upon his heart, and without a re-
nunciation of his former principles, council,
and company.
After they landed in Scotland, before
‘taking leave of the king at Dundee, he
took the liberty of advising Charles to avert
.frgr *"
' .
z; *"a
f u".
'3‘
[The Town of Dundee, in 1650.]
the impending stroke ready to be inflicted
by a victorious English army making rapid
advances upon him, by issuing a public
declaration in such a way as not to com--
promise his right to the crown of England;
and, in the mean time, desist from prose-
cutin g his title by fire and sword, until the
storm should blow over, when the nation
would be in a better mood for being governed.
But Charles did not relish this motion, say-
ing, he would not wish to sell his father’s
blood; which made Livingstone conclude, _
that his advice with regard to matters of if ence in Scotland, said, “ Let him alone; he
‘ is a good man ; and what are we, poor men
1654, when he, with Messrs Patrick Gil- ‘
state would meet with but little success.
Another instance of this he met with in

lespie and Menzies, were called up by the
protector to London, when Livingstone
proposed that the heavy fines that had been
imposed upon many in Scotland, which
they were altogether unable to pay, should
be taken off. Cromwell seemed to relish
the suggestion very well; but when it was
proposed to the council, they unanimously
. refused to listen to it.
\Vhile at London, preaching before the
protector, Livingstone mentioned the king
in prayer, at which some were greatly in-
censed; but Cromwell, knowing his influ-
in comparison of the kings of England?”



462
SCOTS WORTHIES.



‘Some time after the General Assembly
appointed Livingstone, and some other
ministers, to wait upon the protector’s army
and the Committee of Estates then with it;
but the fear and apprehension of what en-
sued, deterred him from going, and he went
home until he got the sad news of the de~
feat at Dunbar. After this Cromwell
wrote to him from Edinburgh, to come and
speak with him; but he deferred compli-
ance. It was during that winter the
unhappy difference occurred between the
resolutioners and protesters, and Living-
stone saw it to be his duty to take part
with the latter. He was present at their
first meeting in the west, at Kilmarnock,
and several other meetings afterwards ; but
not being satisfied with holding these
. meetings so often, and continuing them
so long, which he imagined made the
breach wider, he declined them for some
time.
From that period till the year 1660, he
devoted his time to the exercise of his
ministry, when he was informed that the
king had been recalled. He now clearly
foresaw, that the overturning of the whole
work of reformation would ensue, and
that the situation of all who should adhere
to the same would be perilous in the ex:
treme. But when, in 1662, the parlia-
ment and council had, by proclamation,
ordered all ministers who had been induct-
ed since 1649, and had not kept the holi-
day of the 29th of May, either to own
the prelates or remove, Livingstone fore-
saw more clearly, that the storm was
ready to burst. At the last communion
which he held at Ancrum, in October,
he says, that after sermon on Monday, it
pleased the Lord to grant him enlarge-
ment ‘of mind, and freedom of utterance
in a reasonably long discourse, anent the
grounds and encouragements to suffer for
the present controversy of the kingdom of

Christ, in appointing the government of

.-.~-
his house; after which he took his leave of
that place, although he knew nothing of
what was soon to follow.
After he had, like Elijah, eaten before a
great journey—having communicated be-
fore he entered upon suffering—he heard,
very soon, of the council’s procedure
against him, and about other twelve or six-
teen who were to be brought before them.
Before the summons could reach him, he
went privately to Edinburgh, and conceal-
ed himself there for some time, until he
could obtain certain information of the
council’s intention, whether they meant to
take their lives, as they had done those of
William Guthrie and others, or merely to
send them into exile, as they had done with
Messrs M‘Ward and Simpson. Finding
that they intended only the latter, be there-
fore resolved to appear with the rest of his
brethren. The 11th of December was the
day fixed for their examination‘f before the
council,—-the decision of which was, that
they required him to subscribe or take the
oath of allegiance, which be, upon several
solid grounds and reasons, refused. Sen-
tence was therefore pronounced, that in
forty-eight hours he should depart from
Edinburgh, and go to the north side of the
Tay; and, within two months depart out
of all the king’s dominions. He according-
ly removed from Edinburgh to Leith; but
thereafter, upon a petition, in regard of his
infirmity, he obtained liberty to remain
there until he should remove from Scot-
land. He petitioned also for a few days to
visit his wife and children, but was refused;
also for an extract of his sentence, but
could not obtain it. In 1663, he went on
board, accompanied to the ship by several
friends, and in eight days reached Rotter-
dam, where he found the rest of the ban-
ished ministers. Here he ,had frequent
opportunities of preaching to the Scots con-
gregation at Rotterdam; and in December
Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 149.



JO HN LIVINGSTONE.
463



following, his wife, with two of his children,
came over to him; but other five were left
in Scotland.
About this time, upon a retrospect of
his life, he observes, that the Lord had
given him a body not very strong, and yet
not weak; for he could hardly remember
himself wearied in reading and studying,
although he had continued seven or eight
hours without rising, and also that there
were but two recreations he was in danger
of being mastered by. The first was hunt-
ing on horseback, to which he was very
partial; although he had few opportunities
of engaging in it, yet he found it very
enticing; the other was singing in concerts
of music, of which he had some know-
ledge, and took great delight. He says
farther, that he was always short-sighted,
and could not discern any person or thing
afar off; but hitherto had found no occa-
sion for spectacles, and could read small
print as long, and with as little light
almost, as any other. And, as to his con-
stitutional temperament, he was generally
soft and benevolent, averse to debates,
rather given to caution than rashness, and
too easy to be wrought upon ;—and al-
though he could not say what Luther
affirmed of himself concerning covetous-
ness, yet he could say he had been less
troubled with secular cares, than many
other evils. He was rather inclined to
solitude than company; much troubled
with wandering of mind and evil thoughts;
in outward things, he was never rich;
and although, when in Killinchie, he
had not above four pounds sterling
of stipend a-year, he never in
want.
He farther observes, that he could not
remember any particular time of conver-
was
sion, or ever being much either cast down
or lifted up; only one night, in the Dean
of Kilmarnock’s, having been most of the
previous day in company with some

pious people from Stewarton, who were
under that exercise of mind, when he went
to bed under such heaviness, as he had
never experienced before. During night,
when fast asleep, he felt such a terror of
the wrath of God upon him, that he
thought himself in a most awful condi-
tion. It was instantly removed, however,
but he thought it was said within his
heart, “ See what a fool thou art, to desire
the thing thou couldst not endure!” In
the pulpit he was sometimes much deserted
and dejected, and again at other times
graciously assisted. He has been heard to
say that he never preached a sermon, ex-
cept two, that he would be desirous to see
in print; the first—says Wodrow—was the
one at the Kirk of Shotts, as has been
already noticed, and the other, that on a
communion Monday, at Hollywood in
Ireland. Upon both of these occasions
he had spent the previous night in con-
ference and prayer with some exemplary
Christians, without any more than ordi-
nary preparation; for, says his biographer,
his style and manner of preaching were
better adapted to ordinary hearers, than
to a learned audience. Of the Hebrew,
Chaldaic, and Syriac languages, he had
a tolerable knowledge; but he never made
any proficiency in Arabic.
He had as much of the French, Italian,
Dutch, and Spanish languages, as enabled
him to peruse their Bibles and some other
books; and, such was the opinion the
General Assembly entertained of his
abilities, that they thrice urged him very
earnestly to write a history of the Church
of Scotland, from the Reformation in
1638; but he always declined the task.
When in Holland, he spent the greater
part of his time in translating the Bible
into Latin from the original Hebrew; for
which purpose he compared Pagnin’s ver-
sion with the original text, and with the
later translations of Munster, the Tigurine.



464
SCOTS WORTHIES.


J unius, Diodati, and the English; but espe—
cially the Dutch, which he thought by far
the most accurate translation.
Whether from his long sedentary habits
or some other cause,—perhaps the growing
infirmities of old age—he could not deter-
mine ; but from the year 1664, he suffered
so much from internal pain, that he
could only walk abroad with difliculty. y
His hands, too, were so much paralyzed
that he could scarcely write; otherwise,
be blessed the Lord that he had found no-
great defection either in body or mind.
In this weak state he continued at Rot-
terdam till he was relieved from all his
earthly sufferings, on the 9th of August,
1672. Among his last words were, “Carry
my commendation to Jesus Christ, till I
come there myself ;” adding after a pause,
“ I die in the faith, that the truths of God,
which he hath helped the church of Scot-
land to own, shall be owned by him as
truths so long as sun and moon endure;
and I believe that Independency—though
there be good men and well-meaning pro—
fessors in that persuasion—will be found
more to the prejudice of the work of God,
than many are aware of.
me always abhor shows.

I have my own ;
faults, as well as other men; but he made

-‘___ __—_.._.___—___-._-__—-»——e — -_-_,— —____.__
given offence to many, through my negli-
gence; but I forgive, and desire to be for-
given.” Not being able to speak much at
a time, he said, after a short pause :-——“ I
would not have people to forecast the
worst; but there is a dark cloud above
the Reformed Churches, which prognosti-
cates a coming storm !”
There have been few Whose labours in
the gospel have been more remarkably
blessed than Livingstone’s; nay, it is
doubtful, if any, since the days of the
apostles, can produce so many convincing
and confirming seals of their ministry
Witness the Kirk of Shotts and Holly-
wood in Ireland, at which two places,
about 1500 souls were either confirmed
in the faith, or converted and brought to
Christ.
Besides his letter from Leith, 1663, to
his parishioners at Ancrum, are extant
his Memorable Characteristics of Divine
Providence, and a manuscript of his life,
of which this memoir is a short abridgment
While in his Patmos in Holland, he finish-
ed his Latin Translation of the Old Tes~
tament, which was revised and approved
of by Vossius, Essenius, and other eminent
men of the age. Before his death, it was
I have, I know, put into the hands of Luesden, to publish.

JOHN SEMPLE.
THE origin of this wonderful man is al-
together unknown, and therefore no ac-
count can be given of his early life and
habits. The first notice we have of him
is from amanuscript of Mr Gabriel Semple,
minister of J edburgh, a relation of his, in
which the subject of this biography is
represented as having acted in the capacity

of precentor to one of the Scots ministers
in Ireland,——supposed to be either Living-
stone, Blair, or Cunningham. The cir~
cumstance which led to his call to the min-
istry is singular, as he is said to have been
without a classical education; and conse-
quently could not have been received as a
1 student within any of the Universities.


JOHN SEMPLE.
465






About the time of which we write, and
till a period much later, it was the practice
for the congregation to assemble, on sab-
bath, a considerable time before the arri-
val of the minister, and join together in
singing a psalm, which, not unfrequently,
was lengthened out, almost to intolerance.
Semple being engaged in this exercise one
morning, and thinking that the minister
was tarrying unusually long, felt an irresis-
tible impulse to make some observations
upon the psalm they had been singing,
which, by the aid of the Spirit of God, he
was enabled to do, with great freedom and
enlargement of mind. The ministers,
whose names we have mentioned, having
heard of this, and judging that Semple had
an “unction from on high,” immediately
examined into his religious experience and
scriptural qualifications; and, having satis-
fied themselves that he possessed a gift of
edification, licensed him to teach and
exhort in private. Semple, having obtain-
ed this liberty, began to take a wider cir~
cuit than was at first contemplated, collect-
ing large audiences in barns and un-
occupied houses, and was so very popular
and successful, that he became the blessed
instrument of converting many souls to
God. But Providence had marked him
out for a more enlarged and useful sphere;
wherefore he left Ireland, and, coming
over to Kirkcudbright, he there under-
went a scrutinizing examination for the
ministry. Soon after, he was called to
Carsphairn, a newly constituted church and
parish. The author of the manuscript
says :—“ I had frequent occasions to be at
communions in that country, much coun-
tenanced by God,—at none more than
Carsphairn; Mr Semple always employed
the most lively ministers he could find in
the presbyteries of Dumfrias or Galloway
_-he gave the sacrament twlce a year; and
as he had the choice of ministers, so the
choice of people in Galloway and Niths-
l
1dale ordinarily repaired thither, even
twenty or thirty miles off.”
Semple was a man of strict morality
and exemplary piety; and, as such, he was
held in great veneration by all ranks of
people. He was a great check upon the
clergy, especially the indolent and worldly
part of them, who were often much afraid
of him. Coming once from Carsphairn
to Sanquhar—about twelve miles distant-—
on a Monday morning after the sacrament
there, the ministers being still in bed, got
up in all haste, to prevent his reproof;
but he, observing them putting on their
clothes, said, “What will become of the
sheep, when the shepherds sleep so long?
-—in my way hither, I saw some shep-
herds on the hills looking after their
flocks,” which, considering his age, and
early journey, so many miles after he had
preached the day before at home, had
much influence on them, and made them
somewhat ashamed.
He was one who very regularly attended
church-judicatories, from which he was
seldom absent, and that from a principle
of conscience, so that hardly any circum-
stance could hinder him fi*om his purpose;
for, going one time to the presbytery of
Kirkcudbright, twenty miles distant from
Carsphairn, when about to ford the water
of Dee. although he was told by some that
it was impassable; yet he persisted, saying,
“ I must go through, if the Lord will; I
am going about his work.”-—He entered
the stream, and the strength of the cur-
rent carrying him and his horse beneath
the ford, he fell, but immediately standing
upright in the water, he took off his hat,
and prayed a word with great deliberation ;
after which he and his horse got safely
out, to the admiration of all present.
He was also a man much given to
secret prayer, and commonly retired to the
kirk, for that purpose, before sacramental

occasions, frequently setting apart Friday
9 -
c) N


466
SCOTS WORTHIES.


for wrestling with the Lord for his gracious
presence on communion Sabbaths. He
was often favoured with‘ merciful returns,
to the great comfort of both ministers and
people ; thereafter he also appointed a week
day for thanksgiving to God.
As he was faithful and laborious in his
Master’s service, so he was also cour-
ageous and bold towards his fellow-men,
having no respect of persons, but sharply
reproving wickedness in the highest as
well as in the lowest. He was so evident-
ly a man of God, that the most wicked, to
whom he was a terror, had a respect for
him, and spoke favourably of one who
wished well to their souls ; so much so that
at one time, some person of quality calling
him a varlet, another person of the same
rank, whom he had often reproved for his
wickedness, being present, said, he was
sure if he was a varlet, he was one of God’s
varlets. At another time, a certain gentle-
man, from whose house he was going
home, sent one of his servants, on horse-
back, with a broadsword, and loaded
pistols, to feign an attack upon him in a
lonely-place in the night-time,——the ser-
vant being ordered to do all he could to
frighten him. The servant accordingly
surprised him by holding a pistol to his
breast, desiring him to deliver up his
purse, under pain of being shot; but
Semple, with much presence of mind,
although he knew nothing of the strat~
agem, answered :—“ It seems you are a
wicked man, who will either take my
life or my purse, if God gives you leave.
As for my purse, it will not do you much
service, though you had it; and for my life,
I am willing to lay it down when and
where God pleaseth; however, if you will
lay aside your weapons, I will wrestle a
fall with you for my life; which, if you be
a man, you cannot refuse, seeing I have no




weapons to fight with you.”-—After many
threats on the part of the servant, though
all in vain, he at length divulged the
whole plot, and asked Semple if he was
not afraid at first? Not in the least,
answered Semple; for, although you had
killed me, as I did not know but you
might, I was sure to get the sooner to
heaven.
Semple was one of the faithful protes-
ters, in the year 1657, who were ap-
prehended with Mr James Guthrie, at
Edinburgh, in August 1660 ; and, after ten
months’ imprisonment in the castle, was
brought before the council, who threaten-
ed him severely with death and banish-
ment. But he answered with boldness :—
“ My God will not let you either kill or
banish me; I will go home and die in
peace, and my dust will lie among the
bodies of my people.” He was accordingly
dismissed ; and went home. When re-en-
tering his pulpit, he said, “ I parted with
thee too easily before, but I shall hang by
the wicks of thee now.”
He was so much concerned for the sal-
vation of ‘his people, that, when on his
deathbed, he sent for them, and preached
to them with much fervency, showing them
their miserable state by nature, and their
need of a Saviour; with so much earnest-
ness, expressing his sorrow to leave many
of them as graceless as he had found them,
that many wept very bitterly.
He died at Carsphairn, about the year
1677, being upwards of seventy years of
age, in much assurance of heaven; often
longing to be there, rejoicing in the God
of his salvation; and, under great impres-
sions of dreadful judgments to come on
these covenanted sinning lands, when
scarce able to speak, he cried aloud
three times, “A Popish sword for thee,
0 Scotland, England, and Ireland!”


JAMES MITCHELL.
467


JAMES MITCHELL.

THE earliest account we have of this
eminent man is, that he received the de-
gree of Master of Arts, in 1656, in the
university of Edinburgh, where he received
his education for the ministry. Mr Leigh-
ton, afterwards archbishop, was at that
time principal, who, before conferring the
degree upon the students, always ten-
dered them the National and Solemn
League and Covenant. These covenants
Mitchell received with the most full
assent of his will; satisfied they contained
nothing but a brief compendium of the
moral law, binding to the duties we owe
to God and man, in our several stations,
and taking the king’s intent to be in-
cluded therein. As a proof of his fidelity
and loyalty, we may mention, that when
others were swearing fealty to Cromwell,
Mitchell took the oath of allegiance to the
king; but, how he was repaid for his faith-
ful adherence to the legal government
the sequel will discover.
The name of this Worthy has become
chiefly famous, for the bold, but unsuccess-
ful attempt, which he made on the life
of archbishop Sharp, with the view of
ridding his country of a man, whom not
only he, but thousands of the servants

of God, considered as the greatest enemy
the country had, to its political and reli-
gious liberty.
altogether, the name of Mitchell de-
serves to be recorded for his sufferings
in the cause of Reformation.
Having received a license to preach the
gospel, very soon after the Restoration, he
was, with the rest of his faithful brethren,
reduced to many hardships and difficulties. }
It would appear he went to Galloway,
about the year 1661, with a recommenda-
Apart from this however, .


tion from Mr Trail, one of the ministers
of Edinburgh, introducing him to some
pious ministers there, as “a good youth,
that had not much to subsist upon, and as
fit for a school, or teaching gentlemen’s
children,” there being no door of access
then to the ministry, for him, or any who
held his principles, while prelacy was on
the advance in Scotland.
But, whether he employed himself in
teaching, or if he preached on some occa-
sions, where he could have opportunity,
we have no certain account. We find,
however, he joined with that little faithful
band who rose in 1666; but he was not
at the engagement at Pentland,* having
been sent by Captain Arnot to Edinburgh,
the day before, upon some necessary
business, on that emergent occasion.
However, he was excepted from the in-
demnity in the several lists made out for
that purpose.
Soon after the unfortunate defeat at
Pentland, Mitchell went out to Holland,
from which country, after remaining about
nine months, he returned, in company with
some Dutchmen from Amsterdam, having
a cargo of goods to dispose of.
His return was probably about the be-
ginning of the year 1668, as it was during
the summer of that year he made the at-
tempt upon-the life of Sharp. Mitchell,
conceiving himself now excluded from
all mercy or favour from the govern-
ment, and not having yet laid down arms,
and, taking the archbishop of St Andrews
to be the main instigator of all the op
'ipression and bloodshed of his faithful
Wodrow thinks he was at Pentland; but in
his answers before the Committee, Mitchell says
1 otherwise.

468
SCOTS W ORTHIES.



brethren, formed a resolution, in 1668, to
despatch him. For this purpose, upon
the afternoon of the 11th of July, he
waited for Sharp coming down to his
coach, at the head of Blackfriars’ Wynd,
in Edinburgh. Upon this occasion
Sharp was accompanied by Honeyman,
bishop of Orkney. When the arch-
bishop entered, and had taken his seat,
Mitchell stepped to the north side of the
coach, and discharged a pistol, loaded with
three balls, in at the door—at the mo—
ment Honeyman was setting his foot in
the boot, and, when reaching up his hand
to step in, he received the shot in one of
his wrists, and the primate escaped.
Upon this, Mitchell crossed the street
with much composure, till he came to the
head of Niddry’s Wynd, where a man at-
tempted to stop him; but upon Mitchell
presenting a pistol, he let him go; after
which he went down the Wynd, and up
Stevenlaw’s Close, where, entering a house,
he changed his clothes, and came straight
to the street, as being the place where he
would be least suspected. A cry then
arose that a man had been killed; upon
which some replied, it was only a bishop,
and all was soon quiet. Upon Monday
the 13th, the council issued a proclamation,
offering areward of five thousand merks to
any that would discover the perpetrator,
with pardon to accessories; but nothing
more happened at that time.
Mitchell shifted the best way he could
until the beginning of the year 1674, when
he was discovered by Sir YVilliam Sharp,
the bishop’s brother; and, before Mitchell
was aware, he caused a number of his
servants, armed for that purpose, to ap~
prehend and commit him to prison. On
the 10th of February he was examined by
the lord chancellor, lord register, and lord
Halton; but he denied the assassination
of the archbishop; however, being taken
apart by the chancellor, he confessed that it

was he who shot the bishop of Orkney, while
aiming at the archbishop. This he did upon
assurance of his life, given by the chancel-
lor in these words :——“ Upon my great oath
and reputation, if I be chancellor, I will
save your life.” On the 12th, he was again
examined before the council; but said no-
thing more than he had done before the
committee. He was however remitted to
the justice court to receive his indict-
ment and sentence, which was,-—to have his
right hand struck off at the cross of Edin-
burgh, and his goods forfeited. This last
part was not to be executed, till his ma-
jesty’s pleasure; because, says lord Halton,
in a letter to earl Kincardine, assurance of
his life was given him upon his confession.
However, he was, on the second of
March, brought before the lords of justi-
ciary, and indicted for being concerned at
Pentland, and for the attempt on the arch-
bishop of St Andrews ; but he pleaded, Not
Guilty, and insisted, that the things alleged
against him should be proved.
The lords postponed the trial till the
25th, and, in the mean time, the council
passed an act (March 12), specifying,
“that Mr‘ James Mitchell confessed his
firing the pistol at the archbishop of
St Andrews upon assurance given him
of life by one of the committee, who had
a warrant from the lord commissioner
and secret council to grant the same;
and therefore he did freely confess, &c.”
In the said act, it was declared, “that
on account of his refusing to adhere
to his confession, the promises made to
him were void, and that the lords of justi-
ciary and jury ought to proceed against
him, without any regard to these.” About
the 25th he was brought before the usti-
ciary again; but, as there was no proof
against him, they, with consent of the
advocate, deserted the diet, pro tempore,
and he was remanded to prison.
Thus he continued until January 6th,

\‘
JA MES MITCHELL.
469




1676, when he was ordered to be examin-
ed before the council by torture, concern-
ing his being in the rebellion, in the year
1666. Accordingly he was brought be-
fore them upon the 18th, about six o’clock
P.M. Linlithgow, being preses, told him
he was brought before them to see whether
he would adhere to his former confession.
He answered, “ My lord, it is not unknown
to your lordship, and others here present,
that, by the council’s order, I was remitted
to the lords of justiciary, before whom I
received an indictment at my lord advo-
cate’s instance, to which indictment I an—
swered at three several diets; and the last
diet being deserted by my lord advocate,
I humbly conceive that, both by the law
of the nation, and the practice of this
court, I ought to have been set at liberty;
yet notwithstanding, I was, contrary to
law, equity and justice, remanded to
prison; and upon what account I am this
night before you, I am ignorant.” The
preses told him, he was only called to see
if he would own his former confession.
He replied, “ I know no crime I was
guilty of, and therefore made no such con-
fession.” Upon this the deputy-treasurer
saidz—“The pannel is one of the most arro-
Mitchell
replied, “ My lord, if there were fewer of
gant liars I have ever known.”
those persons you have been speaking of,
in the nation, I should not be this night
standing at this bar; but my lord advocate
knows, that what is produced against me
The preses then
said, “ Sir, we will make you confess.”
On the 22d, he was again called before
the court, to see if he would own his form-
er confession, when a paper was produced,
said to have been subscribed by him; but
“ You see
what is upon the table,” said the preses,
pointing to the boot, “ I will see if that
Mitchell replied,
“ My lord, I confess that by torture you
is not my confession.”
he would not acknowledge it.
will make you confess!”

may cause me to blaspheme God, as Saul
compelled the saints; you may compel me
to speak amiss of your lordships; to call
myself a thief or a murderer, and then
pannel me on it; but if you shall here put
me to it, I protest before God and your
lordships, that nothing extorted from me,
by torture, shall be made use of against
me in judgment, nor have any force in law
But to
be plain with you, my lords, I am so much
against me, or any other person.
of a Christian, that whatever your lord-
ships shall legally prove against me, if it be
truth, I shall not deny ;—but, on the con~
trary, I am so much of a man, and a
Scotsman, that I never held myself obliged
by the law of God, nature, and nations, to
be my own accuser.” The treasurer
depute said, he had the devil’s logic, and
sophisticated like him—ask him, whether
that be his subscription ? Mitchell replied,
“ I acknowledge no such thing.”
Upon the 24th, they again assembled in
their robes in the inner parliament house,
when the boots and executioner were
again presented. Mitchell was once more
interrogated; but still persisting, he was
ordered to the torture; and, knowing
that, after the manner of the Spanish in-
quisition, the more he confessed, either
concerning himself or others, the more
severe the torture would be to make him
confess the more, he thus addressed the
court :—“ My lord, I have been now
these two full years in prison, and more
than one of them in bolts and fetters,
which hath been more intolerable to me
than many deaths, if I had been capable
thereof; and it is well known, that some,
in a shorter time, have been tempted to
make away with themselves; but respect
and obedience to the express law and
command of God have made me undergo
all these hardships, and I hope, this tor
ture with patience also, that for the pre-
servation of my own life, and the life of



470
SCOTS WORTHIES.







others, as far as lies in my power; and to
keep innocent blood from your lordships’
persons and families, which, by the shed-
ding of mine, you would doubtless bring
upon yourselves and posterity, and wrath
from the Lord to the consuming thereof,
till there should be no escaping: and new
again I protest, as before.
please, call for the man appointed for the
work.” The executioner having been
called, he was tied in a two-arm chair, and
the boot brought. The executioner asked
which of the legs he should take; and the
lords bade him take any of them. The
executioner laying the left in the boot,
Mitchell drew it out again, and said,
“Since the judges have not determined,
take the best of the two; for I freely be-
stow it in the cause ;” and so put his right
leg into the boot. After this the advocate
asked leave to speak but one word; but,
notwithstanding, he insisted at great
length,——to which Mitchell answered,
“ The advocate’s word or two has multi-
plied to so many, but my memory cannot
serve, in the condition in which I am, to
resume them in particular; but I shall
essay to answer the scope of his discourse:
—~Whereas he has been speaking of the
sovereignty of the magistrate, I shall go
somewhat further than he hath done, and
own that the magistrate whom God hath
appointed is God’s depute; both the throne
and the judgment are the Lord’s, when he
judgeth for God, and according to his law;
and a part of this office is to deliver the
poor oppressed out of the hand of the
oppressor, and shed no innocent blood.
And whereas the advocate has been hint-
ing at the sinfulness of lying on any
account ; it is answered, that not only lying
is sinful, but also a pernicious speaking of
the truth is a horrid sin before the Lord,
when it tendeth to the shedding of inno-
cent blood—as in the case of Doeg.
But what my lord advocate has forged
When you

against me is false; so that I am standing
on my former ground, viz., the preserva-
tion of my own life, and the life of others,
as far as lies in my power,——the which I
am expressly commanded by the Lord
of hosts.”
Upwards of thirty questions were asked
at him during his torture, of which the
following are the most important.——“ Are
you that Mr James Mitchell who was ex-
cepted out of the king’s grace and favour?
I never committed any crime deserving to
be excluded—Were you at the battle of
Pentland? No.—Were you at Ayr; and
did you join the rebels there? I never
joined with any such—Where were you
at the time of Pentland ? In Edinburgh,
—When did you know of their rising in
arms? When the rest of the city knew
it.—When was that? When the messen-
ger came from Dumfries, and Dalziel, with
his forces, marched out at the West Port.
—Where did you meet with James Wal
lace? I knew him not at that time.—
Did you go out of town with Captain
Arnot? No.”
At the beginning of the torture, he said,
“ My lords, not knowing that I shall
escape this torture with my life, therefore
I beseech you to remember what Solomon
saith, ‘ He who showeth no mercy shall
have judgment without mercy.’ And now,
my lords, I do freely from my heart for-
give you, who are sitting judges upon the
bench, and the men who are appointed to
be about this horrible piece of work, and
also those who are vitiating their eyes in
beholding the same; and I entreat that
God may never lay it to the charge of
any of you, as I beg God may be pleased
for Christ’s sake to blot out my sins and
iniquities, and never to lay them to my
charge here nor hereafter.”
It is indeed true, that Mitchell made
a confession, upon the promise of his
life; but the managers having revoked
_‘__~
JAMES MITCHELL.
471


their promise, because he would not adhere
to his confession before the justiciary, he
was advised by some friends not to trust
too much to that promise, and be his own
accuser. “ The reader must determine”
(says Crookshanks), “ how far he was to
blame now, in not owning his confession
judicially, as they had judicially revoked the
condition upon which the confession was
made; and to put a man to torture for
finding out things for which they had not
the least proof, seems to be unprecedented
and cruel; and to bring him to a farther
trial, appears to be unjust. For, as an-
other author‘’6 has well observed,—That
when a confession or promise is made upon
a condition, and that condition is judicially
rescinded, the obligation of the promise or
confession is taken away, and both parties
are in stazfu quo. t Besides, when an open
enemy perverts and overturns the very
nature and matter of a discourse or con-
fession, by leaving out the most material
truths, and putting untruths and circum-
stances in their room, it no longer is the
former discourse and confession; and when
a person is brought before a limited judi-
catory, before whom nothing was ever con-
fessed or proven, the person may justly
stand to his defence, and put his enemies
to bring in proof against him.”
At the close of this examination, the
executioner took down his leg from a chest
on which it had been lying all the time in
the boot, and set both on the ground; and
then thrusting in the shafts to drive the
wedges, began his strokes; at every one of
which, Mitchell, when asked if he had any
more to say, answered, No I At the ninth,
he fainted through extremity of pain ; upon
which the executioner cried, “ He is gone,
my lords, he is gone 1” He was then
ordered to desist, and the lords walked
* The author of the narration of his torture;
which is inserted at large in Naphtali.
+Josh. ii. 14.

away. After Mitchell had recovered a
little, he was carried in the same chair to
the tolbooth.
Mitchell continued in prison from this
time till the beginning of next year,
when he and Mr Frazer of Brae were
sent to the Bass, where he remained till
\
t -. '
' \“i‘l
\\
l
i ‘ .
. _1

[The Bass Rock from the South-west, in 1660.]
about the 6th of December, when he was
again brought to Edinburgh, for trial;
which came on upon the 7th of January
1678. On the third of the same month,
Sir George Lockhart and Mr John Ellis
were appointed counsel for the pannel;
but Sharp was determined to have his life,
and Lauderdale gave way to it. Sir
Archibald Primrose furnished them with
a copy of the council’s act anent Mitchell;
and a day or two before the trial, waited
upon Lauderdale, who had been summoned
along with lord Rothes, lord Halton, and
Sharp. Primrose told Lauderdale, that
he thought a promise of life had been
given ; but the latter denied it. Primrose
wished that act of council to be looked
into; but Lauderdale said he would not
give himself the trouble.
\Vhen the trial came on, the proof rest-
ed mainly on his own confession—February
16, 1674—and many and long were the


SCOTS WORTHIES.


-_____..._-1_______.__1__. —___ _ _
r—__-——-- ——
reasonins on the different charges in the i The 'ur were therefore enclosed and
‘o J y ’
indictment. Sir George Lockhart defend-
ed the prisoner with great learning, to the
admiration of the audience, “ that no
extra-judicial confession could be allow-
ed as evidence, and that his confession had
been extorted from him under promise of
life; but it was overruler.” So tedious
were the pleadings that the court adjourn-
ed till the 9th, afull report of which will
be found in VVodrow’s History.
The court having reassembled on the
day appointed, lord Rothes, a crown wit-
ness, upon being shown Mitchell’s confes-
sion, deponed that he was present and saw
Mitchell subscribe the same, but that he
gave him no assurance of his life; nor did
he remember any warrant given by the
council to his lordship to that effect.
Halton and Lauderdale deponed much to
the same purpose; but Sharp swore dis-
tinctly, that he knew the prisoner at the
bar, at first sight, to be the person who shot
at him; but that he either gave him assu-
rance of life, or authorized any person to
do so, was a false and malicious calumny—
that he gave no other promise to Nichol
Somerville, than that it was his interest to
make a free confession. Somerville, how-
ever, Mitchell’s brother-in-law, deponed,
that the archbishop promised to him to
secure his life, if he could induce him to
confess. Sharp denied this, calling it a
villanous lie; and Sir William Paterson,
Mr John Vanse, and the bishop of Gal-
loway, all swore in‘ Sharp’s favour,—it be-

ing dangerous for them to do otherwise.
At the close of the pleadings Mitchell
produced a copy of an act of council issued
against him on the 12th of March, 1674,
in which the promise of an assurance of
life was distinctly recognised; and request-
ed that the original might either be pro-
duced, or the clerk permitted to furnish
extracts; but this was also overruled on
the ground of informality.

ordered to return their verdict next after-
noon, which they did; and Mitchell was
brought in Guilty. Sentence was accord-
ingly pronounced, “ That Mr James Mit-
chell be taken to the Grassmarket of
Edinburgh, upon Friday, the 18th of
January instant, betwixt two and four of
the clock in the afternoon, and there
hanged on a gibbet till he be dead, and all
his moveables, goods, and gear, escheat,
and in-brought to his majesty’s use.” No
sooner did the court break up, than the
lords found the act recorded, and signed by
lord Rothes, the president of the council.
-—“ This action,” says Burnet, “ and al'
concerned in it, were looked on by the
people with horror ; and it was such a com—
plication of treachery, perjury, and cruelty,
as the like had not perhaps been known.”
Two days after the sentence, orders
came from court for placing Mitchell’s
head and hands on some public place of
the city; but the sentence being passed,
no alteration could be made. About the
same time, his wife petitioned the council
that her husband might be reprieved for
some time, that she might see him and
take her last farewell,especially as it was
not above twelve days since she had been
delivered of a child, and at the time afflict-
ed with a fever; but no regard was paid
to it.
Such was the end of this zealous and
faithful servant of God, after four years’
unrelenting persecution. That he was a
truly pious man, notwithstanding the foul
aspersions that were cast upon him by his
enemies, all contemporary writers agree in
maintaining, by his faithful contendings
for the reformed and covenanted Church of
Scotland. The attempt which he made
upon the life of Sharp is the only act that
stands in need of vindication. And, the
reader cannot fail to have observed, that
Mitchell looked upon himself as in a state



JAMES MITCHELL.
473


of hostilities ; and, considering Sharp as one
of the chief instigators of the tyranny, op-
pression, and bloodshed, with which the
country was then visited, he thought
he had a right to take every opportunity
of cutting him off, and the more especially,
as no redress was to be found in the courts
of justice. This, however, furnishes no
plea for any private person taking it upon
himself to avenge his wrongs, where access
can be had to a lawful magistrate.
Mitchell, in his own vindication, observes,
“that the seducer, or adviser to a false
worship, was to be put to death, and that
by the hands of the witness.” Such he con-
siders to have been his own case; and
remarks farther, “ that the bishops would
say, what they did was by law and au-
thority; but what he did was contrary
to both ;” and adds-—“ The king him-
self and all the estates of the land, both
were and are obliged, by the oath of God
upon them, to extirpate the perjured pre-
lates and prelacy; and, in doing so, to have
defended one another with their lives and
fortunes—The Covenants,” he continues,
“were made upon these terms,—after
supplications, remonstrances, protestations,
and all other lawful means have been used
to that effect—as the last remedy we took
up arms; upon which condition, our no»
bility, and all the representatives of the
nation, according to the National Cove-
nant, and Solemn League and Covenant,
gave to the king both the sword and
sceptre, and set the crown upon his head;
and he accordingly received them, and,
promised and swore by the ever living
God, to use and improve them for the use
aforesaid; and especially in order to the
performing of this article, the extirpation
and overthrow of prelacy.”
While in prison, he emitted a most
ample testimony, which is to be found in
Naphtali, wherein he testifies against all
profanity; and, as the cause of all his
l
sufferings, quotes the words of Elijah,—
“ I have been very zealous for the Lord of
hosts.” In testifying against the givers and
receivers of the indulgence, as an encroach-
ment upon Christ’s crown and prerogative,
he protests before God, angels, and men,
against all acts derogatory to the work of
God and reformation ; and also against all
banishments, fines, and imprisonments, to
which the people of God had been sub-
jected for many years. When speaking
of his own sufferings, he says :—“ Now, if
the Lord, in his wise and overruling pro~
vidence, bring me to the close of my
pilgrimage, the full enjoyment of my long
looked for and desired happiness, let
him take his own way and time in
bringing me to it. And, in the mean
time, C then, my soul! sing thou the song,
—Spring thou up, 0 well of my happiness
and salvation, of my eternal hope and con-
solation !—and whilst thou art burdened
with the clog of this clay tabernacle, dig
deep in it by faith, hope, and charity ; and,
with all the instruments that God hath
given thee, dig in it by precepts and pro-
mises; dig carefully, and dig continually,
—aye and until thou come to the head and
source of the Fountain himself, from
whence the water of life floweth. Dig till
thou come to the assembly of the first-born,
where this song is most suit-ably sung to
the praise and glory of the rich grace and
mercy of the Fountain of lifc.”—When
speaking of his mortification to the world,
and other christian experiences, he says:
—“ Although, O Lord, thou shouldst send
me in the back tract and tenor of my life,
to seek my soul’s encouragement and com-
fort fi'om them; yet I have no cause to
complain of hard dealing from thy hand,
seeing it is thy ordinary way with some of
thy people,—O God, my soul is cast down
in me, from the land of Jordan, and the
hill of Hermon,—yea, though last, he
brought me to the banquetinghouse, and
30
474
SCOTS WORTHIES.



made love his banner over me among the
cold Highland hills beside Kippen, in
November, 1673, he remembered his
former lovingkindness to me; but withal,
he spoke in my ear, that there was a
tempestuous storm to meet me in the face
which I behoved to go through, in the
strength of that provision.”——After reciting
several texts of scripture, as consolatory to
him in his sufferings, he concludes at last
in the following words :-—“ And, seeing I
have not preferred nor sought after my own
things; but thy honour and glory; the good,
liberty, and safety, of thy church and peo-
ple,-—although it be now misconstrued
by many, yet I hope that thou, O Lord,
wilt make thy light to break forth as the
morning, and thy righteousness as the noon-
day; and that shame and darkness shall
cover all who are enemies to thy righteous
cause. For thou, O Lord, art the shield
of my head, and sword of my excellency;
and mine enemies shall be found liars, and
shall be subdued. Amen and Amen.”
The sentence must be put in execution,
without delay; and accordingly, upon the
18th of January, he was taken to the
Grassmarket of Edinburgh, where he seal-
ed his adherence to the cause of the
Reformation, with his blood—a victim to
the most cruel persecution that ever stain-
ed the annals of any age or country.
TESTIMONY
OF
JAMES MITCHELL.
“ I suppose some will be desirous to
know what hath brought me to this place
of suffering, to which I give no other
answer than that which Elijah gave when
threatened with death by Jezebel. ‘ Ihave
been very zealous for the Lord God of
Hosts, because the children of Israel have
forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine ,

altars, and true worship, and slain thy
prophets and ministers, and they seek my
life to take it away, this day.’ I know no
other 'reason why I am brought to this
place, but because I have lifted up my hand
to the most high God, and sworn in judg-
ment and in righteousness, from which I
cannot go back, viz., to prosecute the ends
of these blessed Covenants, which are the
very basis, and the fundamental rights and
constitution of the kingdom, which all ranks
and stations were and are equally obliged
and engaged to maintain to the uttermost
of their lives and fortunes, and from which
obligation and holy Covenants, no power
on earth is capable to loose any man’s
conscience.
“ With all my heart and soul I own and
adhere to the work of Reformation, as it
was begun and carried on in this kingdom,
according to the word of God, and to the
National Covenant, and Solemn League and
Covenant, and as it was settled amongst us
in doctrine, worship, discipline and govern-
ment, by General Assemblies, synods, pres-
byteries, kirk-sessions, and the people’s
just power to choose and call their own
lawful pastors; and I do declare, that I
judge patronage to be a popish rite, and an
usurpation in the house of God.
“ I homologate and approve of ‘ Lex
Rex,’ ‘ The Causes of God’s \Vrath,’—-to
which there be many since that time to
be added,-—‘ The Apologetical Relation,’
‘ Naphtali,’ ‘ Jus Populi,’ &c.—as orthodox
and consonant to the received principles
and doctrine of the Church of Scotland.
“ I believe that magistracy is an ordi-
nance appointed of God, as well under the
New Testament, as it was under the Old,
and that whosoever resisteth the lawful
magistrate in the exercise of his lawful
power resisteth the ordinance and appoint—
ment of God, ‘for he is God’s minister to
thee for thy good,’ and in doing good thou
needs not be afraid of him. ‘We must


JAMES MITCHELL.
475



obey the magistrate for conscience’ sake.’
But if a man simulating himself to be thus
qualified, and thereafter, when he hath
strengthened himself upon his throne, shall
abjure and falsify his oath and covenant
both to God and his subjects, and shall
transgress the law and commandment of
the Lord, which have given the magistrate
only an accumulative power to promove,
protect, and defend God’s laws, truth, and
people, from being corrupted, violated, or
any ways damnified, and for that end he
hath received both his place and power
from God and men ;-—and if the magistrate,
being in power, shall overturn the cove-
nanted work of God, his truth, and in-
terest, the fundamental and municipal laws
of the land; and, moreover, a parliament
selected according to his own mind, and
for his own use and ends, shall, as the
people’s representatives, by acts rescissory,
rescind all acts of laudable parliaments,
committees of estates, or counsellors,where-
in were contained and comprehended a
mutual bond, obligation, covenant, or con-
tract betwixt the prince and people,—-he
having divested himself of any legal right
to rule over such a people, and they being
in statu quo prius, none having right to
rule over them without their own consent :
-—if the foresaid magistrate shall then
again injure and invade the people’s lives,
religion, liberties, and laws, and make even
a simple supplicating of him a crime of
treason, contrary to the dictates of na-
ture ; and by his armed emissaries, and his
arbitrary power, carried on by the sword in
their hands, compel the Lord’s people to
relinquish and forsake the true religion
and worship of God, and make a surrender
of both their souls, consciences, lives, lands,
and liberties, and embrace a false religion,
and will-worship, and engage to serve and
worship false and idol gods at his pleasure ;
then, it necessarily followeth to be the duty
of such a people, or any part of them, to

take up arms in defence of their lives, laws,
liberties, and religion, and of their posterity,
that they may not be left in such in toler~
able bondage, and as they would not be
accounted guilty of bringing God’s wrath
upon the whole land. ‘ Hear ye the word
of the Lord, 0 king of Judah, thou and
thy servants, and thy people that enter in
by these gates, execute ye justice, and
judgment, and righteousness, and deliver
the oppressed out of the hand of the op-
pressor.’
“ I do detest and abhor that woful indul-
gence, and encroachment, and usurpation
on the crown and prerogative royal of our
Lord Jesus Christ, (both in the givers and
receivers thereof) howbeit I have very
much charity, love, and affection to many
of the ministers who have embraced the
same; for I do really think that they have
been outwitted in that matter, and have
not wickedly departed from following the
Lord; yea, I hope, they shall get their
souls for a prey, in the day of the Lord;
although they may suffer loss in building
such hay and stubble upon the rock Jesus
Christ, when their work shall be burnt by
the fire of the Lord’s jealousy. I approve
of Mr Burnet’s letter sent to the commis-
sioner thereanentf'“
“ I protest before God, angels, and men,
against all these acts of parliament and
council, which are against, or derogative
to the work of God and reformation, and
carrying on of the same, according as we
are engaged and sworn to, in these holy
bonds of the National and Solemn League
and Covenant. I abhor the shedding of
the blood of the Lord’s people, for their
adhering to the same, and the people’s
guarding such in prison-houses and scaf-
folds unto their death; whom both by the
‘i This was Mr John Burnet, minister of Kilbride,
near Glasgow, who refused, with many others of
the outed ministers, the indulgence offered them
in 1673.



476
SCOTS WORTHIES.
_,-—'—F

oath of God upon them, and by the ancient
and laudable laws of the land, and by the
law of nature, they were obliged to have
defended to the uttermost of their lives and
fortunes,—it being well known, that such
as were put to death had committed no
crime ; but on the contrary had performed
the duty, which the guarders were as much
obliged to have performed as the pannels,
if they had been as faithful to God and
men, as they were.
“ Likewise I protest against their ban-
ishment, their imprisonment, their finings,
and confinement-s, and against all the hard--
ships and perplexities of whatsoever kind
they have been put to, through the iniqui-
ties of the times, so that we may justly—~-
with our predecessors—say, that our per-
secutors have devoured us, and have
crushed us, swallowed us up like dragons,
and have filled their bellies with our deli-
cates, and have cast us out, for which cause
God gave a charge to prepare instruments
for the overthrow and destruction of such
persecutors. Because it was the vengeance
of the Lord, and the vengeance of his
temple, and so shall our remnant who cut-
live the persecution say, ‘ The violence
done to me and my flesh be upon Babylon,
and my blood be upon the inhabitants of
Chaldea ;’ let the wrath of the Lord pursue
them, for their blood and violence in their
persons and estates, and their strength
wherein they confide, and their friends and
favourites, who have consulted and con-
tinued with them in their wicked courses.
I hope the time is drawing near, and the
joints of their loins are loosening, their
knees are beginning to smite one against
another, and the handwriting beginning
to be pourtrayed upon the wall because
they have not considered what God did to
their predecessors for their idolatrous pride
and wickedness, although they know it, yet
they are become more insolent in idolatry
and wickedness, and daring against God

than ever their forefathers presumed to be,
meddling with the vessels and materials
of the Lord’s house, and with the crown
and kingly office of Christ Jesus, and have
appropriate them for their own idolatrous
ends and uses.
“ Having thus delivered myself in the
point that I have mentioned, I only add
to what I have said, that I own these
things, as my own judgment allenarly,-—
what may seem to be singular in those great
and important matters,-—not willing that
anything, wherein others may differ from
me, should be looked upon as the prin-
ciples, or persuasion of the party whereto
I adhere. I obtest that no man be so
diabolical and profane, as to charge this
upon any of my persuasion, it being but my
own, which I hope God hath approved in
me; and whom God justifieth, who dare
condemn ?”
Not having been permitted to address
the spectators, as he intended, he threw
over the scaffold, a document, the sub-
stance of which was as follows.
“ Christian peoplc,-—It being rumoured
abroad, immediately after I received my
sentence, that I would not have liberty to
speak in this place, I have not troubled
myself to prepare any formal discourse, on
account of the pretended crime for which
I am accused and sentenced; neither did
I think it very necessary, the fame of the
process having gone so much abroad, that
by a former indictment given me, near
four years ago, the diet of which was
suffered to desert, in respect the late
advocate could not find a just way to reach
me with the extrajudicial confession they
opponed to me; all knew he was zealous
in it, yet my charity to him is such, that
he would not suffer that unwarrantable
zeal so far to blind him, as to overstretch
the laws of the land beyond their due
limits, in prejudice of the life of a native
subject; first by an extreme inquiry of tor-



-§
COLONEL JAMES WALLACE. 4.77



ture, and then by exiling me to the Bass; > sins have been such as deserved a worse
and then, after all, by giving me a new death to me; but I hope in the merits of
indictment at the instance of the new Jesus Christ, to be freed from the eternal
advocate, who before was one of mine, punishment due to me for sin. I am con-
when I received the first indictment, to fident that God doth not plead with me
which new indictment, and debate in the in this place, for my private and particular
process, I refer you; and particularly to sins, but I am brought here that the work
these two defences of an extrajudicial of God may be made manifest, for the trial
confession, and the promise of life given of faith ; that I might be awitness for His
to me by the chancellor, upon his OWII despised truths and interests in this land,
and the public faith 0f the kingdom; where I am called to seal the same with
upon the verity whereof I am content to my blood; and I wish heartily that this
die, and ready to lay down my life; and my poor life may put an end to the perse—
hope your charity to me a dying man, Will cution of the true members of Christ in
be such as not to mistrust me therein; this place, so much actuated by these per-
especially since it is so notoriously admini- fidious prelates, in Opposition to whom, and
culate by act of secret council, and yet testimony to the cause of Christ, I at this
denied upon oath by the principal officers .1. time lay down my life, and bless, Ged that
of state present in council at the making he hath thought me so much worthy as to
of said act, and whom the act bears to do the same, for his glory and interest.
have been present; the duke of Lauder— 1 Finally, concerning a christian duty, in a
dale, being then his majesty’s commis- singular and extraordinary case, and anent
sioner, was likewise present ;—and which my particular judgment, concerning both
act of council was, by the lords of justi— church and state, it is evidently declar-
ciary, most unjustly repelled. This much ed and manifested elsewhere, Farewell
for a short account of the affair for which I all earthly employments; and welcome

I am unjustly brought to this place; but I Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, into whose
acknowledge my private and particular hands I commit my spirit.”

COLONEL JAMES WALLACE.

JAMES WALLACE, our next worthy, was ‘ officers in the parliamentary forces held
a brave soldier and an eminent saint. him in great respect; and he was deserv-
He was descended from an ancient and edly popular among the soldiers. In 1642.
influential family in Ayrshire. Auchans, he belonged to the marquis of Argyle’c
in the parish of Dundonald, had long been i regiment which was sent in that year to
the patrimonial seat of the VVallaces. , quell the troubles in Ireland. He was
The subject of this memoir entered the _ recalled in 1645, to oppose the victorious
army early in life ; and, by his bravery, and progress of h-Iontrose, and shortly after be
consistent deportment, rapidly rose to the was taken prisoner at the battle of Kilsyth.
rank of lieutenant-colonel. His brother , \Vhen Charles the Second came to Scot


4'78
SCOTS WORTHIES.







land, in 1650, the parliament ordered two
regiments of life guards to be embodied,
one of horse and the other of foot. In
conformity with special instructions, these
regiments were formed of the choicest
troops. Lord Lorn was appointed colonel,
and Wallace lieutenant-colonel of the
foot regiment of guards. Our Worthy was
present at the battle of Dunbar, so disas-
trous to the Scots, and he was a second
time taken prisoner. Lord Lorn strongly
recommended him to the notice of parlia-
ment for promotion, as well as an equitable
compensation for great losses which he had
sustained. It does not appear, however,
that government ever rewarded his patri~
otic services, or indemnified his private
loss. _
Wallace lived in retirement after the Re-
storation, till the year 1666, when he came
forth from his seclusion as the determined
asserter of his country’s liberties. He
was placed at the head of the presbyterian
forces, who reluctantly had recourse to
arms at the battle of Pentland.
“ In accepting the dangerous post to
which he was chosen,” says Dr M‘Crie,
“ Wallace could be actuated only by the
most disinterested motives. He had no
private quarrel to revenge; he had given
no personal offence to the government;
and, as he was not involved in the circum-
stances which led to the first rising, he
had no cause to be alarmed for his own
safety. The prospects, when he first en-
gaged in the design, were far from being
flattering, especially to one of his know-
ledge and experience in military affairs,
and he had it in his power to retire, as
others did, after he reached the west, and
saw the real state of those who were in
arms. Nor was his conduct, during the
short time that he commanded, discredit-
able to his military talents; especially
when we take into consideration the small
number of men which he had under him,

the miserable manner in which most of
them were equipped, and the want of infe-
rior officers to conduct. ‘ Wallace himself
was a gentleman godly and resolute; but
such an undertaking was for a man of mira-
cles.’ By the line of march which he chose,
he gave an opportunity to the friends of
the cause, in the most populous counties,
if they had been disposed, to join its stand-
ard. He prevented general Dalziel from
obtaining that advantage which he sought,
for attacking him during his march. If
the government had been disposed to sup-
press the insurrection without bloodshed,
he gave them an opportunity of accom-
plishing this by the moderate letter which
he sent to the general of the royal forces.
The ground which he chose on Rullion
Green, and the disposition which he made
of his men, was the very best, when he
had to oppose an enemy three times the
number of his own troops. By fighting at
the time he did, instead of delaying, as he
knew he could easily do, he provided for
the better escape of his men, in the event
of their being worsted; and, indeed, the
loss actually sustained was less than it
would in probability have been, if, without
engaging, he had disbanded his army
during the night. The battle of Pentland-
hills was a well-fought field, not a dis-
graceful rout, like that which afterwards
happened, under a very different leader, at
Bothwell-bridge.
“ On the loss of the battle, colonel
Wallace left the field in company with
Mr John Welsh, and escaped the pursuit
of the enemy. After riding to a Sllfl'lClQIll-
distance, they turned their horses adrift,
and slept during the remainder of the
night in a barn. Having concealed him-
self for some time, Wallace at last got
safely out of the kingdom. The battle of
Pentland was fought on the 28th of
November; and on the 4th of December,
the privy council issued a proclamation


COLONEL JAMES WALLACE.
479


prohibiting all persons from harbouring or
corresponding with colonel VV'allace, or
any of those who had been in arms with
him, under the pain of being treated as
accessory to the late rebellion. On the
15th of August, Wallace, and six others
who had absconded, were found guilty, and
condemned to be executed as traitors, when
they shall be apprehended, and all their
lands and goods to be forfeited to his
majesty’s use. This sentence was ratified
by parliament in 1669 ; but was rescinded
at the Revolution.”
For several years colonel Wallace was
obliged to wander from one part of the
continent to another for the sake of
security. For the same reason he assumed
the name of Forbes. In the year 1670,
he was on the borders of Germany.
When he thought the search after him
had relaxed, he settled in Holland, taking
up his residence at Rotterdam. Even
there he was not permitted to remain
unmolested. He attended the stated
ministrations of Messrs Robert MacWard
and John Hog, of the Scottish Church in


[Old Scottish Church, Rotterdaru.]
that city ; and, to the joy of his expatriated
clerical and lay brethren, \Vallace was
induced to undertake the office of elder.

The congregation, however, was not to be
long favoured with the acceptable services
of colonel Wallace. and his beloved pastor
Mr MacWard. They, as Well as Mr
John Brown, formerly minister of Wam-
phray, were obnoxious to Charles, who
could not brook the idea that they should
be comfortable and respected in the land of
their adoption. It is notorious that the
king, if he did not originate, heartily enter-
ed into every measure suggested for the
annoyance or destruction of his noncon-
forming presbyterian subjects. It might
have been thought, now that these good
men had exiled themselves, that the active
persecution would be stayed. But it was
far otherwise. The British cabinet, we
verily believe, never gave a greater proof
of its weakness and implacability than it
did in the present instance. Spurred on
by Sharp, the king wrote a holograph
letter to the States-General, entreating
them forthwith to expel from the United
Provinces, Robert MacWard, John Brown,
and colonel James Wallace, whom he
characterized as rebels, unworthy of the
least countenance; and urging the States
if they had any respect for his request, to
lose no time in complying with it. But
the States- General, to their honour, were
not to be hurried into an unjustifiable
measure, merely to gratify the resentment
of the king and his ministers. They pro-
perly viewed a compliance with the request
of Charles as leading to eneroachments on
their prerogative, and accordingly enjoined
their ambassador in London to acquaint
his majesty, that the States-General did
not feel at liberty to molest the individuals
referred to, or, indeed, any one who, for
similar reasons, sought refuge in the
Netherlands. Neither did they wish to
become the instruments of uncalled-for
oppression in the hand of an English
monarch, whose jurisdiction, they con-
ceived, did not extend into foreign terri-



480
SCOTS \IVORTHIES.





tories, and in whose unreasonable de-
mands, especially, they respectfully, yet
pointedly, declined acquiescing. Charles,
however, was not so easily to be rebuffed.
By his extreme urgency, and the extrava-
gant colouring which he gave the whole
affair, representing it as a matter that in-
volved his personal safety, and the peace
of the realm, the States were at length
induced, as
measure, in order, if possible, to pacify his
majesty, and to convince the accused, that
the Dutch government were exceedingly
averse to interfere.
King Charles continued so to annoy
the Dutch government, that the States,
unwilling to incur his majesty’s threatened
displeasure, and even hostility, came to the
following resolution on the 6th February,
1677:——“ It is found good hereby to de-
clare, that although the foresaid three
Scotsmen have not only not behaved and
comported themselves otherwise than as
became good and faithful citizens of these
States, but have also given many indubi-
table proofs of their zeal and affection for
the advancement of the truth, which their
High Mightinesses have seen with plea-
sure, and could have wished that they
could have continued to live here in peace
and security. Considering the risk they
run, however, and with what pressing
earnestness his majesty had repeatedly in-
sisted, by three several missives, and ver-
bally through his envoy extraordinary, and
with great reason apprehending a breach
between his majesty and these States, as
Sir William Temple has expressed him-
self on the subject in terms that cannot be
mistaken, they feel themselves necessitated,
in order to obviate so great an evil at this
conjuncture, to cause the foresaid three
Scotsmen withdraw from this country ; and
that, consequently, notice shall be given to
the foresaid James Wallace, Robert Mac-
mediators, to devise some
\Vard, and John Brown, in order that.


they may be able to avail themselves of
the good intentions of their High Mighti-
nesses, in having their effects properly
disposed of before the 5th of March next;
and for this end. an extract of this resolu-
tion of their H. M. shall be sent to the
counsellors of the States of Holland and
West F riesland, in order that due notifica-
tion may be given, and the foresaid S cotsmen
may regulate their proceedings accordingly.
They shall also find enclosed for their be-
hoof, separate instruments ad omnes popu-
Zos,” &c.
The instrument referred to in the pre—
ceding decree, so far as related to colonel
Wallace, was in these terms ; and Messrs
MacYYard and Brown had each one to
the same purport :—
“ The States General of the United
Netherlands, to all and every one who
shall see or read these presents, health.
“ Be it known and certified, that James
Wallace. gentleman, our subject, and for
many years inhabitant of this State, lived
among us highly esteemed for his probity,
submission to the laws. and integrity of
manners. And therefore. we have resolv-
ed affectionately to request, and hereby do
most earnestly request, the Emperor of the
Romans, and all Kings, Republics, Princes,
Dukes. States, Magistrates, or whomso-
ever else, our friends, and all that shall
see these presents, that they receive the
said James ‘Wallace in a friendly manner,
whensoever he may come to them, or
resolve to remain with them. and assist
him with their council, help, and aid;
testifying that for any obliging, humane,
or kindly offices done to him, we shall be
ready and forward to return the favour to
them and their subjects whensoever an
opportunity offers. For the greater con-
firmation whereof, we have caused these
presents to be sealed with our seal of
office, and signed by the president of our
assembly, and have ordered them to be



COLONEL JAMES WALLACE.
481


countersigned by our first secretary, in our
assembly, the sixth day of February, 1677.”
The fact that the States refused the de—
mand of king Charles, coupled with the
above ample certificate in favour of those
whom he bitterly accused, convincingly
shows the extreme reluctance of the Dutch
government to comply. But the report
which Sir William Temple made to his
court must not be omitted. His words are
remarkable :»-—“ This business hath been
the hardest piece of negotiation that I
ever yet entered upon here, both from the
particular interests of the towns and pro-
vinces of Holland, and the general esteem
they have of MacWard being a very quiet
and pious man; but chiefly from the firm
persuasion they have, of not being obliged to
it by any bare letter of his majesty, without
any sentence having passed against them
by which they are adjudged rebels and
fugitives. And, on the contrary, after a
sentence of banishment against MacWard
and Brown, which, they say, is by all
writers esteemed wholly to extinguish their
subjection, and, consequently his majesty’s
right of declaring them rebels after they
are banished and become subjects to an-
other state. But I found the king’s hon-
our so far engaged in this matter, by three
several letters which must have been
public, that I have left no sort of argu-
ments unessayed with the prince, the pen-
sioner, and deputies, both of the provinces
and towns, to procure his majesty’s satis-
faction, and make it pass for a thing so
necessary to despatch, that it hath taken
up two long debates in the States of Hol-
land these two days past, though their
meeting was intended but for five days, and
for no other business but the levies of
monies necessary for the campaign.”
The Scottish kirk-session, at Rotterdam,
recorded their unfeigned sorrowin being dc-
prived of colonel \Vallace, “ the most pain-
ful and useful elder thcyhad amongst them.” ;


Mr Mac W'ard retired to Utrecht, or its
immediate neighbourhood, along with Mr
Brown and colonel Wallace. The colo-
nel, who was particularly obnoxious to
Charles, by reason of the active share
which he took against the royal cause at
Pcntland, did not consider himself safe,
even in the desirable society and prudent
seclusion of his two clerical friends. He,
therefore, reluctantly quitted them and
hastened to a more secure concealment on
the borders of France.
Colonel W'allace’s name was continued
on the sessional rollfx‘ During his seclu-
sion he addressed the subjoined letter,
which throws light on his character and
circumstances, to the widow of William
Mure of Caldwell, then residing in Rot-
terdam:
“ Elect lady, and my worthy and dear
sister,——Yours is come to my hand in most
acceptable time. It seems that all that
devils or men these many years have done
(and that has not been little) against you,
to daunt your courage, or to make you in
the avowing of your Master and his perse-
* “The Session (March 18, 1677.) taking into
consideration the great loss the congregation is at
by being deprived of their brother, Mr Wallace,
who made it his work from day to day to visit
families, instructing in the principles of religion,
and exhorting them to the exercise of family-
worship, and all christian duties, appoints that
some expedient mean may be thought upon to
supply this great. defect, which the session doth
judge very expedient; and that, because the said
Mr Wallace. in presence of all the session, some
few dayes before he went away, did declare, that
through mercy he had found his paines, both in his
visitations of families, and at his own chamber, in
some more successful, than he had expected, which
he earnestly intreated might be intertained, lest the
beginnings of some warmth and affection to the
truth he had found in many, might coole again."
The Session (January l678) “unanimously con-
cluded, that there should be five elders, besides
Afr lVallace, w/zom yet they own as sac/2, notwith-
standing of wlzaz‘ is gone against/Hm ; and also five
deacons.”-See Dr Steven’s Hist. of the SCOZlis/Z
Church in Rotterdam, p. .50.




3 P
482
SCOTS WORTHIES.





cuted interests to lower your sails, has‘
prevailed so little, that your faith and
courage is upon the growing hand, an
evidence indeed as to your persecutors, of '
perdition, but to you of salvation and that
of God. It seems when you at first by
choice took Christ by the hand to be your
Lord and portion, that you wist what you
did; and that, notwithstanding of all the
hardnesses you have met with in hiding by
him, your heart seems to cleave the faster
to him. This says you have been admitted
unto much of his company and fellowship.
My soul blesses God on your behalf, who
hath so carried to you, that I think you
may take those words among others spoken
to you, ‘ You have continued with me in
my afflictions: I appoint unto you a king-
dom.’ It seems, suffering for Christ, losing
anything for him, is to you your gain.
More and more of this spirit may you
enjoy, that you may be among the few (as
it was said of Caleb and Joshua) that
follow him fully, among the overcomers,
those noble overcomers mentioned, Revel.
ii. and iii., among those to whom only (as
picked out and chosen for that end) he is
saying, ‘You are my witnesses.’ Lady,
and my dear sister, I am of your judgment,
and I bless his name that ever be counted
me worthy to appear in that roll. It is
now a good many years since the Master
was pleased to even me to this, and to call
me forth to appear for him; and it is true
those forty years bygone, (as to what I
have met with from the world,) I have
been as the people in the wilderness; yet
I may say it, to this hour, I never repented
my engagements to him, or any of my
ownings of him; yea these rebuts, to say
so, I got from men were to me my joy and
crown, because I know it was for his sake
I was so dealt with ; and this, it being for
his sake, I was ready in that case (as Christ
says) when men had taken me upon the,
one cheek. for his sake, to turn to theml

the other. Never was Iadmitted to more
nearness, never was my table better cover-
ed than since I left Rotterdam. Let us take
courage, and go on as good soldiers of
Jesus Christ, enduring hardness. O for
more faith! O for more faith among his
people ! As to this people, there is nothing
to be seen in their way that is promising
of any good; but, on the contrary, O! I
fear the Lord has given them up unto
their own hearts’ lusts. They do indeed
walk in their own counsels. That same
spirit of persecution, and these same prin-
ciples, that are among you are here; but
as God is faithful, they shall be all broken
to pieces, and turned back with shame,
that hate Zion. Wait but ‘a little; they
are digging the pit for themselves. The
Lord hath founded Zion, and the poor of the
people shall trust in it. Let us mind one
another. My love to all friends whom you
know I love in the Lord. God’s grace be
with you, and his blessing upon your little
ones, whom he hath been a father to.
In him I rest. Yours as formerly,
“ JA. WALLACE.”
Colonel Wallace returned to Rotterdam
in 1678; but, to the unspeakable grief of
the congregation died, there at the close of
the same year. In discharging the duties
of ruling elder in the Scottish Church,
he was beyond all praise. Like his divine
Master he went about continually doing
good; and the spontaneous testimonies
borne to his patriotism, and his unwearied
zeal for the furtherance of vital godliness
among the flock over whom be jointly pre-
sided, entitle him to be held in grateful
remembrance. The colonel rightly view-
ed the duties of an elder as involving
obligations more sacred and binding than
the world generally regards this ecclesias-
tical office as embracing He studied, as
every conscientious man will, who enters
into a similar engagement, to attend to
those apostolic injunctions which St Paul



JOHN WELWOOD.
483

has recorded for the direction of the suc—
cessive overseers in the church of God.
This excellent person expired in the arms
of his tried friend, Mr MacWard, who has
given a particular account of the colonel’s
triumphant death in the following letter to
the Rev. John Blackadder, minister of T ro-
queer :—“ I doubt not but you have heard
of the removal of worthy and great Wal-
lace, of whom I have no doubt it may be
said he hath left no man behind him in
that church, minister nor professor, who
hath gone through such a variety of tenta-
tions, without turning aside to the right ‘
hand or to the left. He died in great
serenity of soul. He had lived abroad such
an ornament to his profession, as he was
not more lamented by us than by all the
serious English and Dutch of his acquaint-
ance, (who were many,) as having lost the
man, who as a mean was made use of by
the Lord to keep life amongst them; yea,
the poor ignorant people of the congrega-
tion of Rotterdam,(besides the more serious
and knowing amongst them,) bemoan his
death, and their loss as of a father. And
they have good reason; for I must say, he
was the most faithful, feckful, compassion-
ate, diligent, and indefatigable elder, in the
work of the Lord, that ever I knew at-
home or abroad; and as for his care, solici-

churches lay more upon him than upon
hundreds of us, so that the church of God
hath lost more in the removal of that man
than most will suffer themselves to believe.
Only we who know it, have this to com-
fort ourselves, that the residue of the Spirit
is with Him who made him such, and that
the Great Intercessor lives to plead his
own cause, and the causes of his people’s
souls. I forgot to tell you, that when the
cause for which he suffered was mentioned,
when it was scarce believed he understood
or could speak, there was a sunshine of
serene joy looked out of his countenance,
and a lifting up of hands on high, as to
receive the confessor’s crown, together with
a lifting up of the voice with an Aha, as to
sing the conqueror’s song of victory. In a
word, he fell asleep in the furnace, walk-
ing with the Son of God, and now his
bones will rise up with the bones of the
other great witnesses buried in a strange
land, as a testimony against the wrong
done to Christ, and the violence used
against his followers by this wicked gener-
ation, whom the righteous Lord in his
time, from him who sitteth upon the throne
to the meanest instrument that hath put
the mischiefs he framed into a law in
execution, will make a generation of his
wrath, of special wrath, which must answer
tude, and concernedness, in the work and i and keep proportion unto the wrongs done
people of God, I may say, the care of all the l
to the Mediator.”

JOHN
WELWOOD.
THIS intrepid servant of Christ was son ‘ tive was born about the year 1649.
After
of the Rev. James \Velwood, some time having gone through a regular course of
minister at T indergarth, in the county of training for the ministry, he received his
Dumfries, and brother to Messrs Andrew license; but, on account of the turbulence
and James W'elwood, doctors of medicine of the times, it does not appear that he
in London. The subject of this brief narra- . was ever ordained to any particular incum-



4841
SCOTS WORTHIES.
_,..___r _





bency. Mention is indeed made of his
having preached five or six times for his
father, in the parish of Tindergarth.
On these occasions his sermons are said to
have been blessed with more marked effects
of good among the people there, than had
been discernible in the labours of his father
during the whole course of his ministry.
Besides his eminent piety and faithful-
ness in preaching, Welwood was singularly
fervent in pressing home the duties of the
christian life; and particularly, in institut-
ing and encouraging fellowship and social
meetings vfor prayer and conference, which
be frequently attended himself. Upon one
occasion, among many others, at New-
house, in the parish of Livingstone, the
night being far advanced, he said, “ Let
some one pray, and be short, that we may
get to our apartments before it be light !”
It happened, however, to be the turn of a
person, who excelled in the gift of prayer;
and, before he was done, daylight had
shone into the house. “ James, James,”
said Welwood, “your gifts have the start
of your graces !” and to the rest his
counsel was :——“ Be advised, all of you, not
to follow him at all times, and in all things,
otherwise there will be many outs and ins
in your tract !”
In 1677, there was held an Erastian
meeting of the actually indulged and non-
indulged ministers, got up by the indulged
party, in order, as they pretended, to bring
about and establish a union between the
parties; but rather, in reality, a conspir-
acy without the smallest semblance of hon-
our, or veracity. Welwood, Mr Cameron,
and another minister, were called before
the meeting, and threatened with deposi-
tion, for their freedom in preaching up
separation from the actually indulged; but
these men declined their jurisdiction, as
being no lawful judicatory of Jesus
Christ; composed as it was of men against
whom they had lifted up a testimony.

At this crisis, some of the indulged party
waited upon Mr Hog, who had not been at
the meeting, to ask his advice regarding
Welwood; to whom Mr Hog returned the
following laconic reply :—“ His name is
Welwood; but if you take the injudi-
cious step of deposing him, he may per-
haps turn out the Torwood in the end.”
Soon after this, it would appear that
Welwood had received a call from the
parish of Tarbolton, in Ayrshire; or, to
adopt the language of the dominant party
of the day-—-“ had intruded upon that parish
and congregation.” Information to that
effect, says Wodrow, was lodged against
him, before the council at Edinburgh, on
the 1st of November, who immediately
appointed lords Glencairn and Rothes to
see that he was turned out and apprehend-
ed; but what was the result cannot now
be learned, as Wodrow makes no farther
mention of it. It has been ascertained,
however, that he continued to preach; and
the following are the principal gleanings
that have been picked up.
When going to preach one Sabbath
morning, the laird, on whose ground the
tent had been erected, caused it to be
removed, and set up on the property of
another proprietor. Welwood having
observed this, remarked very coolly,-——that
in a short time that same laird would not
have a furrow of land, that he could call
his own :—“ Let alone a little,” said he,
“and he will turn out in his true colours !”
——and so it actually happened; for, having
soon after been convicted of adultery, he
became most contemptible and miserable,
being, as was said at the time, one of
York’s four-pound Papists.
About two years after this, perceiving
the indications of a bright day about to
dawn upon the persecuted church, he said
to one William Nicholson, a native of
Fife :—“ Ye shall have a brave summer of
the gospel this year; and for your further



JOHN WELWOOD.
485





encouragement, even an old man or woman
may live to see the bishops down, and yet
the church not delivered: but ere all be
done, we will get a few faithful ministers
in Scotland. But keep still amongst the
faithful mourning remnant that is for God;
for there is a cloud coming on the church
of Scotland, the like of which was never
heard of ; for the most part will turn to
defection. But I see, on the other side of
it, the church’s delivery, with ministers and
Christians, such as you would be ashamed
to open your month before!”
Among his last public appearances, he
preached at Boulterhall in Fife, from these
words,—“ Not many wise men after the
flesh, not many mighty, not many noble,
are called ;”f in which he wished that all
the Lord’s people, whom he had placed in
stations of distinction both there and every-
where, would express their thankfulness,
that the words not many were not not any,
and that the whole of them were not ex-
cluded. Towards the close of the sermon
he said, “ If that unhappy prelate, Sharp,
die the death of all men, God never spoke
by me.” The archbishop had a servant,
who, upon liberty from his master on
Saturday night, had gone to visit his
brother, who was a servant to a gentleman
near Boulterhall. Next day he accom-
panied his brother to church, and Welwood,
having observed a person with Sharp’s
livery, desired him to stand up; for he
had something to say to him. “ I desire
you,” said he, “before all these witnesses,
when thou goest home, to tell thy mas-
ter, that his treachery, tyranny, and wick-
ed life, are near an end; and his death
shall be both sudden, surprising, and
bloody; and as he hath thirsted after, and
shed the blood of the saints, he shall not
go to his grave in peace!” After he had
returned home, the bishop asked the young
man at supper if he had been at a conven-
' I Cor. i. 26.

ticle; to which he replied, he had; and,
having told his master the text, and several
things connected with the discourse, he at
length particularly delivered the message
with which he had been intrusted. Sharp
pretended to treat it lightly; but his wife
said, “ I advise you to take more notice of
that; for I hear that these men’s words
are not vain words.”
Soon after this VVelwood went to visit
Perth, where he lodged in the house of one
John Barclay. This it appears was his
last journey in the service of his Master.
Being naturally of a delicate constitution,
and having, previously, been exposed to
many privations, added to a deep concern
about the state of his own soul and those
of others; besides being greatly depressed
in spirit on account of the afflicted state of
the church, a gradual decay began to steal
upon him, in which he lingered until the
beginning of April, when death relieved
him of all his earthly cares and sufferings.
During the time of his illness, so long as
he was able to speak, he laid himself out
for the good of souls. None but such as
were looked upon to be friends to the per-
secuted cause knew that he was in town;
and his practice was to call them in, one
family after another, at different times, and
discourse to them about their spiritual
state. His conversation was convincing,
edifying, and comforting. Many came to
visit him; and, among the rest, one Ayt-on,
younger of Inchdarney in Fife, a pious
youth about eighteen years of age, to whom,
on his giving him an account of the great
tyranny and wickedness of prelate Sharp,
\Velwood said :—-“ You will shortly he quit
of him : and he will get a sudden and
sharp off-going; and you will be the first
that will take the good news of his death
to heaven!” This literally came to pass
the May following.
About the same time, he said to another
_ person who came to visit him:-—“ That


486
SCOTS ‘w ORTHIES.





many of the Lord’s people should be in
arms that summer for the defence of the
‘gospel; but he was fully persuaded they
would work no deliverance; and that,
after the fall of that party, the public
standard of the gospel should fall for
some time, so that there would not be
a faithful minister in Scotland, excepting
two, to whom they could resort, to hear
or converse with anent the state of the
church; and they would also seal the testi-
mony with their blood—that after this
there should be a dreadful defection and
apostasy; but God would pour out his
wrath upon the enemies of his church and
people, when many who had made defec-
tion from his way, should fall among the
rest in this common calamity; but this
stroke, he thought, would not be long ; and,
upon the back thereof, there would be the
most glorious deliverance and reformation
that ever was in, Britain, after which the
church should never be troubled any more
with prelacy.”
When drawing near his end, in conver-
sation with some friends, he used fre-
quently to communicate his own exercise
and experience, with the assurance he had
obtained of his interest in Christ; saying,
“ I have no more doubt of my interest in
Christ, than if I were in heaven already.”
At another time he said :-—“ Although I
nave been for some weeks without sensible
comforting presence, yet I have not the
least doubt of my interest in Christ: I
have often endeavoured to ,pick a hole in
my interest, but cannot get it done.” On
the morning of his death, when he ob-
served the light of day, he said :-—“ \low
eternal light, and no more night and dark-
ness for me ;” and, that night, be exchanged
a weak body, a wicked world, and a weary
life, for an immortal crown of glory, in
that heavenly inheritance which is prepared
and reserved for such.
The night after his death, the body was



removed from John Barclay’s house into
a private room, belonging to one Janet
Hutton, till his friends might consult about
his funeral ; that Barclay might not be put
to trouble for concealing him. A report
was quickly spread, that an intercommuned
preacher had died in town, upon which the
magistrates ordered amessenger to go and
arrest the corpse. Next day, a consider-
able number of his friends, from Fife, came
to town to attend his burial ; but the magis-
trates would not suffer him to be interred
in Perth. In support of their authority
they ordered the town militia to be called
out, and imprisoned John Bryce, boxmastei
or treasurer to the guild ry, for refusing to
give out their arms. However, they at
length gave his friends leave to carry the
body out of town, and bury it beyond the
precincts, in any place they chose ; but any
of the inhabitants, who were observed ac--
companying the funeral, were imprisoned.
After they had gone out of town, his friends
sent two men to Drone, not far from
Perth, to prepare a grave in the church-
yard of that place. These men went to
Mr Pitcairn the minister—one of the old
resolutioners—and desired the keys of the
church-yard gate of the parish ; but he re-
fused to give them. They went over the
wall, however, and dug a grave; and there
repose in peace the ashes of this zealous
servant of God.
Only one of his sermons has appeared
in print, said to have been preached at
Bogle’s-hole, a farm in the upper ward of
Lanarkshire, from the words of Peter,—
“ And if the righteous scarcely be saved,
where shall the ungodly and the sinner
appear?”
It is said that a few of his religious let-
ters to pious friends and acquaintances
are yet extant, in manuscript ; but nothing
remarkable may now be expected, either
in the writings of Welwood, or any of the
succeeding Vi’vorthies. The times in which


_____
WILLIAM GORDON OF EARLSTOUN.
487



they lived were so peculiarly harassing,
owing to the persecutions that were insti-
tuted against them, by being hunted from
place to place, that they could neither
find time nor opportunity for writing;

and, not unfrequently, any small fragments
they might from time to time have collect-
ed, having been intrusted to the hands of
timid or false friends, were by them either
destroyed or lost.

WILLIAM GORDON OF EARLSTOUN.

WILLIAM GORDON of Earlstoun was son
to the renowned reformer, Alexander
Gordon of Earlstoun, and was lineally
descended from the well-known Alexander
Gordon who entertained the followers of
John WVickliffe, and who, having a New
Testament in English, used to read it at
their meetings at the wood of Airds, in
the vicinity of Earlstoun. Having thus
had the advantage of a religious education,
he began very early to follow Christ. In
1637, Mr Rutherford in his letters thus
admonishes him :—“ Sir, lay the foundation
thus, and ye shall not soon shrink nor be
shaken; make tight work at the bottom,
and your ship shall ride against all storms,
-—if withal your anchor be fastened on
good ground, I mean within the Vail!”
And indeed, by the blessing of God, he
began, when quite a youth, to distinguish
himself by his piety and religion, as well as
by a firm attachment to Presbytery, and
the covenanted work of Reformation; in
which he continued steadfast and immov-
able, till he lost his life in the honourable
cause.
What hand he had in Public affairs
during Cromwell’s usurpation, cannot now ;
well be said; but we may suppose him to '
have been on the side of the remonstrants.
The first public testimony he gave, after 3
the restoration of Charles I I., recorded in ,
‘reasons, why he could not comply with
history, was about 1663, when some com-

missioners, appointed by the council to
inquire into the opposition then made by
the people to the settlement of curates at
Kircudbright and Irongray—knowing Gor-
don’s attachment to the presbyterian inter-
est—were determined either to compel his
acquiescence in settling an episcopalian
incumbent in the parish of Dalry in Gal-
loway, where, by the once established laws,
he had some right in presenting; or, if he
refused to concur, which they had every
reason to suspect he would, to bring him
to further trouble. Accordingly, the com-
missioners wrote him a letter, in the fol-
lowing tenor :——“ Finding the church of
Dalry to be one of those to which the
bishop hath presented an actual minister,
Mr George Henry, fit and qualified for the
charge, and that the gentleman is to come
to your parish this Sabbath next, to preach
‘ to that people, and that you are a person
of special interest there, we do require you
to cause this edict to be served, and the
i congregation to convene and countenance
I. him, so as to be encouraged to prosecute
{his ministry in that place.
Your loving
friends and servants,
GALLOWAY,
DRUMLANARK.”
“ LINLITHGOW,
“ ANNANDALE,
To this letter Earlstoun returned a very
respectful answer, showing, upon solid




488
SCOTS WORTHIES.



their unjust demand :—-“ I ever judged it
safest to obey God, and stand at a distance
from whatsoever doth not tend to God’s
glory, and the edification of the souls of
his scattered people, of which that congre-
gation is a part. And besides, my lords,
it is known to many that I pretend to lay
claim to the right of patronage of that
parish, and have already determined there-
in, with the consent of the people, to a
truly worthy and qualified person, that he
maybe admitted to exercise his gifts among
that people; and for me to countenance the
bearer of your lordships’ letter, were most
impiously and dishonourably to wrong the
majesty of God, and violently to take ,- way
the Christian liberty of his afflicted people,
and enervate my own right.”
This was just what they wanted ; for, on
the 30th of July following, “ The lords of
council ordered letters to be directed, to
charge William Gordon of Earlstoun to
compear before them, to answer for his
seditious and factions carriage :” in other
words, his refusing to comply with prelacy;
to hear the curates; and for favouring and
hearing the ousted ministers. And farther,
on November 24th of the same year,—
“ The council being informed that the
laird of Earlstoun kept conventicles and
private meetings in his house, do order
letters to be directed against him, to com-
pear before this council, to answer for his
contempt, under pain of rebellion.” All
this, however, damped not the courage of
this faithful confessor of Christ, in adher-
ing to his persecuted gospel ; but his
enemies passed a still more severe and rig-
* Here observe, that though this gentleman
mentions the right of patronage, yet it is with this
proviso or limitation,—-the choice or consent of the
people ; otherwise, says be, it would wrong the
majesty of God, take away the Christian liberty of
the people, and invalidate his own right: and how
unlike is this to the species of patronage and claim
of patrons at this time, when nothing but absolute
power and arbitrary measures will satisfy them!

orous act against him, in which it was ex—
hibited, that he had been at several conven-
ticles—sas they were pleased to call these
meetings—where Mr Gabriel Semple, a
deposed minister, had preached in the
woods of Corsack and Airds; and heard
texts of scripture explained, both in his
mother’s and in his own house, by ousted
ministers :—“ And being required to enact
himself to abstain from all such meetings
in time coming, and to live peaceably and
orderly, conform to law,’7 he refused to do
so. They therefore sentenced him to be
banished, and to depart furth of the king-
dom within a month, and not to return
under pain of death; and, during that time
to live peaceably, under the penalty of
£10,000, or otherwise to enter his person
in prison.
This sentence, however, it would appear,
Earlstoun altogether disregarded,—and
though we have no particular account of
his future sufferings, we are certainly in-
formed that he was subjected to many
vexations hardships. In 1667, he was
turned out of his house, which was convert-
ed into a garrison for Bannatyne and his
party.
brought with it fresh troubles, until the
22d or 23d of January, 1679, when he
emerged out of them all, arrived at the
haven of everlasting rest, and obtained his
glorious reward, in the following manner.
Having some business to settle—perhaps
Almost every subsequent year
with a view never to return—he was pre-
vented from joining that suffering handful
who were then in arms near Bothwell; but
sent his son, who took part in the action.
With all possible expedition he hastened
to their assistance; but not having heard
of the Covenanters’ disaster, he was met
near the field of battle by a party of English
dragoons who were in pursuit of the suffer-
ers. Like a valiant champion of Christ, he
refused to surrender, or comply with their
demands. He was therefore put to death


KING AND KID.
489


upon the spot. His friends not being able
to obtain his slaughtered body, and his son
being among the fugitives, it was interred
in the church-yard of Glassford, remote
from the tombs of his ancestors. Although
a pillar or monument was erected over his
grave ; yet, neither “ sculptured urn nor
M
Thus fell a renowned Gordon; a gentle-
man of high and honourable attainments
devoted to religion and godliness, and an
, unyielding supporter of the presbyterian
, interest in that part of the country where
he dwelt.
him, that he lived a patriot, a christian,
It may very truly be said of
animated bust” pointed it out, because of a confessor; and died a martyr for the
the severity of the times.*
cause of Christ.

JOHN
KING AND JOHN
KID.
NOTHING more seems to be known of these '
distinguished martyrs than a brief account
of their sufferings, comprising the period
between the years 1670 and 1679; and,
it is very probable that their names might
have been lost in oblivion, or at least passed
over in comparative obscurity, had they
not been thought worthy to seal their testi-
mony with their blood. In the times of
which we treat, hundreds, who suffered the
loss of all things for the cause of Christ,
are now altogether unknown, except in the
imperfect traditionary chronicles of the
families from which they were descended.

, Bothwell.
it His son Alexander Gordon here narrowly
escaped being taken, by means of one of his
tenants, who, knowing him as he rode through
Hamilton, made him dismount, put on women’s
clothes, and rock the cradle. After this, he went
over to his brother-in-law, Mr Hamilton, to re-
present the low case of the united societies to the
churches of the Netherlands; he was by them
called home, and when returning back he was ap-
prehended by the enemy, and put to the torture;
but by means of his friend, the Duke of Gordon,
his life was spared. However, he was sent to the
Bass, and from thence, to Blackness, in 1683,
volution. It is to be lamented, that neither he,
after this, nor his son Sir Thomas, fully followed
the steps of their ancestors.
where he continued till he was liberated at the re- '

Hundreds, too, finished their mortal pil-
grimage in foreign climes, of whom no ac-
count was ever transmitted to the land of
their birth; but the two eminent individu-
als, united in this brief memoir, will live on
the page of history, so long as time endures.
The earliest account we have of King
is, that he was for some time chaplain to
lord Cardross, and that he was apprehend-
ed and committed to prison, in the year
167 4 ; from which, however, he was liberat-
ed, upon a bond and security for 5000 merks,
to appear when called. Next year he was
again taken into custody, having been ap-
prehended in Cardross house; but he was
soon rescued by a few country people who
had profited by his ministry. He was after-
wards taken, a third time, near Hamilton,
with about seventeen others, and marched
to Evandale, where they were all retaken
by the victorious Covenanters at Drumclog,
whither they had been conveyed by Claver-
house. From that time he devoted himself
to the service of his Master, by preaching
to the persecuted party till their defeat at
The circumstances attending
his final capture are somewhat romantic ;
but as there is nothing improbable in the
account, we give it upon the testimony of


3 Q
490
SCOTS WORTHIES.



a person, who vouched for its accuracy :—
“ King having been on a visit to the laird of
Blair, in the parish of Dalry, near Kilwin-
ning, to whom he had been formerly chap-
lain, one Bryce Blair, a farmer, who had
been groom there while King was in the
family, came and desired a visit also. King
went accordingly; and delivered a short
discourse on the Saturday night following.
On the Sabbath morning, a party of the
enemy—said to be Crichton’s dragoons—-
being in quest of him, two of them, in dis-
guise, came to an old man feeding cattle
near Blair’s house, and asked him if he knew
where that godly minister, Mr King, was ;
for they were afraid he should be taken, as
the enemy were in pursuit of him; and if
they knew where he was they would secure
him from them. The old man, overjoyed,
cried, ‘ I’ll run and tell him.’ The men
followed hard after, and, finding one of the
family servants waiting on King and his ser-
vant’s horses, they immediately dismount-
ed; and, having driven their own horses
into the standing corn, threatened the
servant not to stir from the spot, upon pain
of death. One of them immediately took
his own saddle, and, putting it on King’s
horse, said, ‘ Many a mile have I rode
after thee, but I shall ride upon thee now !’
“ By this time the rest of the party had
surrounded the house; and, King and his
servant being in bed, they immediately
commanded them to rise. While the ser-
vant was putting on his master’s spurs, one
of the soldiers damned him, saying, was he
putting a spur on a prisoner? The ser-
vant replied he would put on what he
pleased, for which he received a blow from
the soldier, who, in his turn, was also
assailed by one of his companions, with an
oath, reproving him for striking a prisoner
while offering no resistance. Thus King
and. the servant were both marched off for
Glasgow, attended by one David Cum-
ming, a native of the parish, as guide.


For this man the party pressed a horse,
that they might get forward the more
speedily; but they had not proceeded far,
when the animal became quite furious
and unmanageable, so that Cumming was
obliged to dismount and walk the rest
of the road. It is added, that the horse
became quite calm and docile, as soon as
he understood that he was on the way
home.” In reference to his apprehen-
sion, the following very striking account
has also obtained currency :—“ A party
of English dragoons are said to have
been there at the time, and one of them,
on horseback, having called for some
ale, drank to the confusion of the Cov-
enanters. One of his companions hav-
ing asked him at the stable-green port,
where he was going, was answered,—‘ To
carry King to hell.’ But the wicked
wretch had proceeded only a short way, in
high merriment, when his carbine went off
and shot him dead on the spot.” “ God
shall shoot at them with an arrow: sud-
denly shall they be wounded.”
It would appear that Kid had been ap-
prehended at the same time. Whether he
had ever been ordained, or was only a pro-
bationer, there is no certain account. His
presence, however, with the covenanted
party, was deemed sufficient to infer the
highest penalty of the law, and he was ac-
cordingly indicted along with King, for
having been in the rebellion, and for having
preached at field conventicles. They were
both brought before the council at Edin-
burgh, on the 9th of July. King at once
acknowledged that he had been with those
who had taken up arms in defence of their
rights; Kid confessed that he had preached
in the fields ; but only in two places where
there were men in arms. Both signed
their confession, which was afterwards pro-
duced in evidence against them. Kid was
again examined before the council, on the
if Ps. lxiv. 7.



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JOHN KID.
491


_.—'——_
12th, and put to the torture. It is said,
indeed, that he was more than once
in the boots, which he bore with ex-
emplary patience and meekness. King
was re-examined on the 16th before the
court of justiciary, and Kid on the
day following. On the 22d, they were
served with indictments, and their trial
came on upon the 28th. Counsel were
allowed to appear in their defence; but no
exculpatory proof was admitted. Imme-
diately after their indictments were read,
the king’s advocate produced their confes--
sion in evidence, when, after the pleadings,
and a petition in behalf of King had been
read and refused, they were both brought
in Guilty, and sentenced to be hanged at
the market-cross of Edinburgh, on Thurs-
day, the 14th of August, and to have their
heads and right hands out off, and disposed
of at the pleasure of the council.
It was on the forenoon of this day that
the king’s act of indemnity was published;
and, to grace the solemnity, these two
noble martyrs, who were denied a share in
it, were brought forth in the afternoon, for
execution. It is related by an eyewitness,
that as they approached .the fatal spot,
walking arm in arm, Kid, looking at his
fellow-martyr with a cheerful countenance,
said :—“ I have often heard and read of a
Upon the scaffold they
exhibited a very remarkable degree of
magnanimous serenity, and submitted to
their sentence with much placidity and joy
—a joy with which none of their persecu-
tors could intermeddle. Their heads were
cut off on another scaffold prepared for
kid sacrifice I?”
the purpose?
Thus ended the lives of these two wor-
thy ministers and martyrs of Jesus Christ,
after having owned their allegiance to
Zion’s King, and having given a faithful
Their heads and right hands were cut off, and

testimony against popery, prelacy, erasti an ‘
ism, and for the covenanted work of Re-
formation in its different parts and periods. I
TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN KID.
“ Right worthy and well-beloved specta-
tors and auditors :-—Considering the bodily
distempers I have been exercised under
since I came out of the torture, viz., scarce
two hours out of my naked bed in one day,
——it cannot be expected I should be in case
for saying anything to purpose, in such a
juncture; especially, seeing I am not as yet
free of it; however, I cannot but reverence
the good hand of God upon me for good,
and desire with all my soul to bless him
for this present lot.
“ It may be, there are a great many here,
that judge my lot very sad and deplorable :—
I must confess death in itself is very terrible
to flesh and blood; but as it is an outlet to
sin, and an inlet to righteousness, it is the
Christian’s great and inexpressible pri-
vilege. And give me leave to say this :—
“ 1. That there is something in a. Chris-
tian’s condition, amidst all his sufferings,
that ever will be to him springs of peace
and joy and comfort. This is my mercy,
I have somewhat of this to lay claim unto.
viz., the intimations of pardon betwixt God
and my soul. And as concerning that for
which I am condemned, I magnify his
grace, that I never had the least challenge
for it; but on the contrary, judge it my
honour that ever I was counted worthy to
be staged upon such a consideration.
“ 2. Another thing renders the most de-
spicable sufferings of Christians and mine
sufferable, and that is, a felt and sensible
afiixed to the Netherbow Port of Edinburgh, be- ; Presence from the Lord: Strgngthening the
side that of Mr Guthrie.
l soul when most put to it.



492
SCOTS WORTHIES.
..____’v_.-___’___________._.____a .-_..n.__.r~__ ‘



“ 3. The exercising and putting forth of
his glorious power is able to transport the
- soul of the believer and mine above the
reach of all sublunary difficulties; and
therefore, seeing I have hope to be kept by
this power, I would not have you to look
upon my lot, or any other that is, or may
be in my case, in the least deplorable;
seeing we have ground to believe, that in
more or less he will perfect his power and
strength in weakness. ’
“ 4. That I may come a little nearer to
the purpose in hand, I declare before you
all, in the sight of God, angels, and men,
and in the sight of that sun, and all that he
has created, that I am a most miserable
sinner, in regard of my original and actual
transgressions ; and well is it with me this
day, that ever I heard or read that faith-
ful saying; ‘ Jesus Christ came into the
world, to save sinners, of whom I am chief.’
“5. I must also declare in his sight, I
am the most unworthy that ever opened
the mouth to preach the unsearchable
riches of Christ in the gospel; and this is-
the main thing for which I must lay down
my tabernacle this day, to wit, That I did
preach Christ and the gospel in several
places; for which I bless him, as I can,
that ever such a poor obscure person as I
am, have been thus privileged by him, for
making mention of his grace, as I was
able.
“ 6. I am also afraid the Lord is intend-
ing to multiply his strokes upon the land.
We have walked seven times contrary to
him, and therefore we may lay our account
(unless repentance prevent it) that he will
walk seven times contrary to us : there is
more than ground to fear, that a sword is
bathed in heaven, a glittering sword, sharp-
ened and furbished against thee, O guilty
and harlot Scotland!
“ 7. For that other clause in mine in-
dictment, upon which my sentence of death
is formed, viz., personal presence twice or


thrice with that party, whom they called
the rebels-——for my own part, I never judg-
ed them, nor called them such. For re-
bellion against his majesty’s person or law-
ful authority the Lord knows my soul ab-
horreth it, name and thing: loyal I have
been, and will every Christian to be so;
and I was ever of this judgment, to ‘ give
to Cmsar the things that are Ceesar’s, and
to God the things that are Got’s.’
“ 8. Since I came to prison I have been
much branded with many things, which I
must call aspersions, whereof J esuitism is
one. The Lord, before whom I must stand
and be judged by and by, knows, I have a
perfect abhorrence of that thing, and that
was never my temptation, directly nor
indirectly; though I must confess, some
few years ago some were very pressing with
me, that I might conform and embrace
prelacy; but for popery, and that trash,
it came never nearer my heart, than the
pope’s conclave, and the Alcoran, which
my soul abhors.
“ 9. I have been also branded with fac~
tiousness, divisive and seditious preaching
and practices. I must confess, if it be so,
it was more than ever I was aware of.
According to the measure God has given
me, it was my endeavour to commend
Christ to the hearts and souls of the peo-
ple, even repentance toward God, and faith
toward our Lord Jesus Christ, according
to the word of God, Confession of Faith,
and Catechisms Larger and Shorter. Yea,
I did press them also, when God did cast
it into my way, to remember their sworn
Covenant, in doctrine, worship, discipline,
and government; and that they would
make it their work to stand to it in sub-
stance and circumstance, seeing it is so
cried down in this day; and, if this be divi-
sive preaching, I cannot deny it.
“ 10. I am pressed in conscience to hear
my testimony and abhorrence of every in-
vasion, usurpation, and encroachment that




JOHN KID.




is made, or has been against Christ’s royal
prerogative, crown, and kingdom, originate
upon, and 'derivate from that which they
call the supremacy. I was never free to
say a confederacy with those, who, I judge,
have in a great part said a confederacy
with that thing. And the Lord is my
record, I was never in my conscience for
that that is called the Indulgence, neither
first nor second, as it was tendered by the
council, and as it was embraced by a great
many godly and pious men in this land.
Yea, it was never lawful nor expedient to
me: and in effect, this is one of the main
grounds why I am rendered obnoxious to
so many imputations, that I have been all
along contrary to that Indulgence in my
judgment. I confess, I have been of that
judgment; but I die in my judgment con-
trary to it: and this I crave leave to say
without any offence given to the many
godly and learned that are of another
judgment. ‘
“ 11. In the next place, though to many
I die desired, yet I know to not a few my
death is not desired; and it is the rejoicing
of my heart, that I die in the faith of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who hath loved me,
and given himself for me, and in the faith
of the prophets and apostles, and in this
faith—that there is not a name under
heaven by which men shall be saved, but
the name of J esus,—and in the faith of the
doctrine, discipline, and worship of the kirk
of Scotland, as it is now established ac-
cording to the word of God, Confession of
Faith, Catechisms Larger and Shorter.
Likeas, I join my testimony against popery
and perjury, profanity, prelacy, heresy,
supremacy, and everything contrary to
sound doctrine.
“ In the close, as a dying person, and as i
l .
I and Covenant, together with an acknow-
one who has obtained mercy of the Lord
to be faithful, I would humbly leave it upon
godly ministers, to be faithful for their

peace in such a day, when so many ways
are taken for the injuring of him, his name,
way, sanctuary, ordinances, crown, and
kingdom. I hope there will be found a
party in the land, that will contend for him,
and his matters, upon all hazards. And
as faithfulness is called for in ministers, so
they should concern themselves, that they
countenance not, nor abet anything that is
inconsistent with former principles and
practice.
“ I am therefore pressed in conscience to
make honourable mention of all these great
and glorious things that God has done in
Scotland,'since the year 1638,——the abun-
dant measure of his Spirit that was poured
out upon his servants and people at the
renewing of the National Covenant twice
in that year, and once in the year follow-
ing,——the blessed efficacy that the gospel
had at that time in all corners of the land.
and the great things that followed upon it,
which, while improved, made our land de-
sirable. ,
“ I bear my testimony to the Solemn
League and Covenant, as it was pressed
and sworn in England, Scotland, and Ire-
land, in 1643; yea, as it was timed and
taken by the representatives and body of
these three lands ;—which tie is binding,
and can by no power on earth be infringed,
whether secular or ecclesiastic, and that
it was our glory to be counted a people
married to the Lord, from one generation
to another, from henceforth and for ever.
“ I cannot but make mention of that
honourable and noble practice that this
land was privileged with, viz., after two
defections, the Lord put it into the heart
of both state and church to renew these
Covenants once again, viz., both the
National Covenant, and Solemn League
ledgment of sins, and engagement to
i duties, and that in the close of the year;
Lord and Master, and not to hold their i
—which performance was attended with



494
SCOTS WORTHIES.


so much of the Lord’s power and presence,
that it was like a resurrection from the
dead to all that were witnesses, yea, to
both speakers and hearers, that many were
forced to cry out, ‘ The joy of the Lord is
our strength; God, of a truth, is here.’
“I dare not but add this in the case
wherein I now stand, viz., I cannot but add
my concurrence with, and adherence to, all
those public testimonies, protestations, and
declarations, that have been owned, evin-
ced, and emitted by all the presbyterian
ministers and professors of old and of late,
since this work began; and particularly, I
dare not but join my approbation of, and
adherence to, the testimony and protesta-
tion of those renowned and eminently
worthy gentlemen, ministers and professors,
that appeared against the public resolutions,
for taking in the malignant party into judi-
catories and armies ;-—as also, I join my
cordial adherence to and with them that
protested against the two pretended assem-
blies at St Andrews and Dundee, which
endeavoured to approve what the Commis-
sion had done in the year 1650, and 1651,
in reference to intrusting the malignant
party ;—which, as was said by the protest-
ing Worthies, laid the foundation to all
that is come, or may come upon us. I
hope this will not offend any.
“ I am bound in conscience likewise, in
the next place, to testify my dislike and ab-
horrence of that cruel, horrid, and barbar-
ous, unheard of, and unparalleled deport-
ment and practice of that Act Rescissory,
wherein at one dash, by an act of that pre~
cipitant parliament, they endeavoured to
rescind, annul, and expel all these great and
glorious things, that the strong hand of the
Lord had done in Scotland, for more than
twenty years bygone ;--yea, I proclaim my
abhorrence of all the confusions, blood and
murder, fining, confining, imprisonment,
stigmatizings, with all other inexpressible
cruelties that have issued from that cursed


act these nineteen years bygone. And
moreover, I leave my testimony against all
other confusions, imprisonment, and blood,
that is or may be intended against those
of the land that desire to keep their
garments clean, whether in prison, or out
of prison.
“ As concerning that which is the
ground of my death,-——viz., preaching here
and there in some corners :-—I bless my
God, I have not the least challenge for it,
and though those that condemned me are
pleased to call such preachings rendez-
vouses of rebellion, yet I must say this of
them, they were so far from being reputed
such in my eyes, that if ever Christ had a
people, or party, wherein his soul took
pleasure, I am bold to say, these meetings
were a great part of them : the shining and
glory of our God was eminently seen
amongst these meetings; the convincing
power and authority of our Lord went out
with his servants in these blasphemously
nicknamed conventicles. O that Scotland
were a mourning land, and that reforma-
tion were our practice, according as we are
sworn in the Covenant!
“ I recommend my poor wife, and young
one, to the care and faithfulness of the God
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ;_the God
that hath fed me to this day, and who is
the God of my salvation, be their God and
my God, their father and my father! I am
hopeful that Christian friends and relations
will not be unmindful of them when I am
gone.
“Lastly, I leave my testimony to the
cross of Christ, and bless him that ever he
counted me worthy to appear for him in
such a lot as this: all glory to him that ever
I heard tell of him, and that ever he fell
upon such a method of dealing with me as
this; and therefore let none that love
Christ, and his righteous cause, be offend-
ed in me. And as I have lived in the
faith of this, that the three kingdoms are



JOHN
KING.
495




married lands; so I die in the faith of it,
that there will be a resurrection of his
name, word, cause, covenants, and of all
his interests therein, though I dare not
determine the time when, nor the manner
how, but leave all these things to the in-
finitely wise God who hath done, and will
do all things well. O that he would re-
turn to this land again, repair our breaches,
take away our backslidings, and appear for
his work! O that he were pacified to-
wards us I O that he would pass by Scot-
land again, and make our time a time of
love ! Come Lord Jesus, come quickly,—
himself hasten it in his own time and way.
‘ The Lord is my light, and my life; my
joy, my song, and my salvation!’ The
God of his chosen be my mercy to-day, and
the enriching comforts of the Holy Ghost
keep me up, and carry me fair through, to
the glory of his grace, to the edification of
his people, and to my own eternal advan-
tage. Amen.
TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN KING.
“ Men and Brethren :——~I do not doubt,
but many that are spectators here, have
some other end than to be edified by what
they may see in the behaviour, and hear in
the last words of one going into eternity.
But if any of you have ears to hear, which
I nothing doubt but some of this great
gathering have, therefore I desire your ears
and attention, if the Lord shall help, and
permit, to speak a few things.
“ 1. I bless the Lord, since infinite wis-
dom and holy providence hath so carved
out my lot to die after this manner, that I
die not unwillingly, neither by force. I
bless the Lord, I die not as a fool: though
I acknowledge I have nothing to boast of
mvself ; I acknowledge I am a sinner, and l

.____ _.-~___.__
one of the chiefest that have gone under
the name of a professor in religion, yea,
amongst the unworthiest of those that
have preached the gospel ; my sins and
corruptions have been many, and have
defiled me in all things, and even in the
doing and following of duty, I have not
wanted my own sinful infirmities and weak-
ness: so that I may justly say, I have no
righteousness of mine own, all is vile like
filthy rags. But blessed be God, that
through faith in Christ’s righteousness I
have obtained mercy; and that through him
and him only, I desire to hope for, and have
a happy and glorious victory over sin, Satan,
hell, and death ; and that I shall attain to
the righteousness of the just, and be made
partaker of eternal life. ‘ I know in whom
I have believed, and that he is able to keep
that which I have committed to him against
that day.’ I have in my poor capacity
preached salvation in his name, and as I
have preached, so do I believe ; with all my
soul I have commended, and yet I do com-
mend to all of you, the riches of his grace,
and faith in his name, as the alone and
only way whereby ye can be saved.
“ 2. It may be, many may think—but I
bless the Lord without any solid ground,
——that I suffer as an evil-doer, and as a
busybody in other men’s matters; but I
reckon not so much on that—having the
testimony of my conscience—for it was the
lot of our blessed Lord Jesus himself, and
also the lot of many of his eminent pre-
cious servants and people, to suffer by the
world as evil-doers; yea, I think, I have so
far ground not to fear such a lot, that I
count it my nonsuch honour. And oh?
what am I, that I should have been hon--
oured so, when so many \Vorthies have
panted after the like, and have not come at
it; and my soul rejoiceth in being brought
into conformity with my blessed Lord and
Head, and such blessed company, in this
way and lot; and I desire to pray, that l


496
SCOTS WORTHIES.





l
may be to none of you to-day a stone of ‘
stumbling, and a rock of offence : and bless-
ed is he that shall not be offended in Christ
and his poor followers and members, be-
cause of being condemned by the world as
evil-doers.
“ As for these things for which sentence
of death was passed against me,-—I bless
the Lord, my heart doth not condemn me.
Rebellious I have not been, neither do I
judge it to be rebellion, for me to have en-
deavoured, in my capacity, to do what pos-
sibly I could, for the ruined and borne-
down interest of our Lord and Master, and
for the relief of my poor brethren afflicted
and persecuted, not only in their liberties,
privileges, and persons, but also in their
lives ;-—therefore it was that I joined with
that poor handful. My heart doth not
condemn me of any disloyalty; I have been
loyal, and do recommend it to all to be
obedient to the higher powers in the Lord.
And, that I preached at field meetings,
which is the other ground of my sentence;
—-I am so far from acknowledging that
the gospel preached that way was a ren-
dezvousing in rebellion, as it is termed, that
I bless the Lord that ever counted me
worthy to be a witness to such meetings,
which have been so wonderfully counte-
nanced and owned, not only to the convic~
tion, but even to the conversion of many
thousands; yea, I do assert, that if the
Lord hath had a purer church and people
in this land than another, it hath been in
and among these meetings in fields and
houses, so much now despised by some,
and persecuted by others. That I preach-
ed up rebellion and rising in arms against
authority,——I bless the Lord, my conscience
doth not condemn me in this, it never be-
ing my design.
“ 3. I have been looked on by some, and
misrepresented by others, as having been
of a divisive and factious humour, and one
that stirred up division in the church; but

I am hopeful, that ye will give me charity,
being within a little to stand before my
Judge, and I pray the Lord that he will
forgive them that did so misrepresent me.
As I ever abhorred division and faction in
the church, as that which tends to its ut—
ter ruin, if the Lord prevent it not; so I
would, in the bowels of my Lord and Mas-
ter, persuade and exhort both ministers and
professors, ‘ If there be any consolation in
Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fel-
lowship of the Spirit, if any bowels of
mercy.’ And as I am willing to lay down
my tabernacle, so also I die in the faith of
the Holy Scriptures, and in. the faith of
the apostles and primitive Christians, and
protestant reformed churches, and particu-
larly of this church of Scotland, whereof I
am a poor member, that hath been so
powerfully carried on against so much op-
position, by the mighty power and goodness
of God.
“ 4. I hear my witness to the doctrine
and worship, discipline and government of
the church of Scotland, by kirk sessions
and presbyteries, synods and General As-
semblies. As also, I hear my witness and
testimony unto our Solemn Covenants,
National and Solemn League betwixt the
three kingdoms, which sacred and solemn
oaths, I believe, cannot be dispensed with,
or loosed by any person or party upon the
earth, but are still binding upon these na~
tions, and will be so for ever hereafter.
Also I hear my witness and testimony unto
our public confessions of sins, and engage-
ment to duties, and that either as to what
concerns the reformation of our families or
persons, or the reformation of the whole
land in general; as also the Causes of God’s
wrath, the rejecting of which is to be fear-
ed to be one of the greatest causes of God’s
Wrath this day against our land. I also do
bear witness and testimony to the protes-
tation given in against the controverted as-
semblies in their public resolutions, for



JOHN KING.
497




bringing in the malignant party into places
of power and trust, contrary to our solemn
engagements and obligations to God. I
also adhere to our Confession of Faith,
Shorter and Larger Catechisms. I bear
witness and testimony against popery,
which is so greatly increased ; yea, so much
countenanced and professed openly by
many, and that without the least punish-
ment. I bear witness against that anti-
christian prelacy, now established by law,
contrary to our vows to the almighty God;
and against the rescinding of our solemn
engagements and oaths, as a thing that
calls for divine vengeance, and against all
oaths and bonds contrary to our Covenant
and engagements, especially the oath of
supremacy, the declaration against our
covenant, and that bond called the bond
of peace; and that horrid bond so fre-
quently imposed against the meetings of
his people in houses and fields, intended for
the down-bearing of the gospel and inter-
est of our Lord and Master, with all these
bonds, public and private, contrary to our
obligations and oaths to God.
“5. Moreover, I bear my testimony to
all the testimonies given both formerly and
of late by our suffering and banished wit-
nesses, and to all the testimonies of our first
witnesses, noblemen, gentlemen, and others,
that have suffered in this city and kingdom,
who cheerfully laid down their lives with
admirable divine assistance, and to all
these who have laid down their lives, either
formerly, or of late in the fields. As also,
to all those who have sealed their testi-
monies either with forfeitures, imprison-
ment, or banishment, on this account, score,
and quarrel. And particularly I hear my

testimony against that horrid violation
done to our Lord Jesus Christ, and that
by usurping upon his royal prerogatives,
and in spoiling him of his crown, sceptre,
sword, and royal robe, by taking the
princely ornaments to invest a man, whose
breath is in his nostrils, through that
woful supremacy so much applauded, and
universally owned, even by those, of whom
better things might be expected; I mean
the indulged, and such as countenance them
in that way, even to the ruining and rent-
ing of the church, which is also, too, too
evident by sad and doleful experience.
“ 6. In the last place, let not my death
he grievous to any of you ;~—I hope it will
be more, profitable both for you and me,
and for the church and interest of God,
than my life could have been. I bless the
Lord, I can freely and frankly forgive all
men the guilt of it, even as I desire to be
forgiven of God. The Lord visit Scotland
with more and more faithful pastors, and
send a reviving day to the work and people
of God. In the mean time, ‘Be patient,
be steadfast, unmovable, always abounding
in the work of the Lord ;’ and live in love
and peace one with another, and the Lord
be with his afflicted, groaning people that
are behind.
“Now I bid farewell to all my friends
and dear relations ; farewell my poor wife
and child, whom I leave on the good band
of Him, who is better than seven husbands,
and will be ‘a father to the fatherless.’
Farewell all creature-comforts, and wel-
come everlasting life, everlasting glory,
everlasting love, and everlasting praise,
‘ Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that
is within me.’ ”


498
SCOTS WORTHIES.



JOHN BROWN.

JOHN BROWN, the well-known author
of several highly prized works on practi-
cal divinity, is the next ‘Vorthy that claims
our respectful notice. Much obscurity
hangs over his early history. His mother,
an intelligent and a pious person, had the
honour to rank among her correspondents
the famous Samuel Rutherford.
ing to Mrs Brown from Aberdeen on the
13th March, 1637, Rutherford thus refers
to the subject of this memoir, who was
then a mere youth :——“ I rejoice to hear
your son John is coming to visit Christ,
and to taste of his love. I hope he shall
not lose his pains, or rue that choice.
I had always, ‘as I said often to you,’ a
great love to dear Mr John, because I
thought I saw Christ in him more than
in his brethren. Fain would I write to
him to stand by my sweet Master; and
I wish you would let him read my letter,
and the joy I have, if he will appear for,
and side with my Lord Jesus.” In an-
other letter to a different correspondent,
Rutherford also expresses himself as fol-
me to Mr John
Brown; I could never get my love off
that man, I think Christ hath something
to do with him. ”
On completing his academical studies,
he was ordained minister of Wamphray, in
the presbytery of Lochmaben. He was
indefatigable in his pastoral labours in that
parish, as well as throughout Annandale.
He continued at Wamphray till after the
restoration of Charles the Second. For
the conscientious and bold stand which he
made against the introduction of prelacy
he was cruelly treated, and deprived of his
In writ-
lows :—“ Remember
benefice. On the 6th November, 1662, he I

was placed at the bar of the council, char-
ged with “abusing and reproaching some
ministers for keeping the diocesan synod
with the archbishop of Glasgow, calling
them perjured knaves and villains. He
acknowledged that he called them false
knaves for so doing, because they had pro-
mised the contrary to him. The council
ordained him to be secured a close prison-
er in the tolbooth till further orders.”
In consequence of the severities to
which he was subjected, by being confin-
ed in a damp cell during the winter of 1662,
he was induced to send in a representation
to the council, setting forth, “that he had
been kept close prisoner these five weeks
by-past, and seeing, that by want of free
air and other necessaries, for maintaining
his crazy body, he is in hazard to lose his
life; therefore, humbly desiring warrant
to be put at liberty, upon caution, to enter
his person when he should be command-
ed. ” The lords of council “ordain the
suppliant to be put at liberty forthwith of
the tolbooth, he first obliging himself to
remove and depart off the king’s domin-
ions, and not to return without license
from his majesty and council, under pain
of death.” The alternative was a hard
one, but rather than pine away in a
dungeon, he chose to bid a last adieu to
his beloved flock and his numerous friends
in Scotland, and repair to Rotterdam,
where several of his acquaintance had
already taken refuge. Brown was allow-
ed two months, from the 11th of De-
cember, to prepare for his final depar»
ture from his native country; and, in the
spring of 1663, he landed on the conti-
nent. He resided partly at Utrecht and

‘g
JOHN
BROWN.
499



.—
partly at Rotterdam. Though he preached
frequently in both places, he was never ad-
mitted minister of any congregation abroad.
In the year 1673, the English congregation
at Middleburg, in Zealand, were desirous
to have him as their pastor. He remained,
however, at Rotterdam, where, in 1676, he
was brought forward as a candidate along
with his friend Mr MacWard, when the
Dutch government generously agreed that
a second minister should be appointed for
the Scottish Church in that city. Both
candidates, being men of tried worth and
ability, found strenuous supporters in the
congregation. The consistory, by a ma-
jority of votes, elected Mr MacW’ardf’i
Brown was extremely useful at Rot-
terdam. He assisted the ministers of the
Scottish Church, not merely in the pulpit,
but also in regularly visiting their people.
For a while he peaceably enjoyed the
christian society of his expatriated brethren,
and consoled by his printed writings and
private‘ letters, the dear friends among
1* The following particulars, hitherto unpublish-
ed, regarding this election, are extracted from the
Records of the National Scottish Church in Rotter-
dam, of date, January 13, I676 :—
“ The whole Session being conveened upon Mon-
day after the thanksgiving sermon for the Lord's
Supper celebrated the day before, after prayer it
was motioned, whether the election should run
upon Mr John Carstaires, who was in Scotland, or
upon the other two worthy men that are now here
in town, and by plurality of votes it was carried,
that upon the consideration of the inconvenience
of worthy Mr Carstaires his absence, the vote
should only run upon the two worthy men. viz., Mr
Robert MacIVard and Mr John Brown, who are
in town. '2. It was proposed, whether upon some
considerations, it were better to vote, or to cast
lots, and it was carried not to cast lots, but to vote.
3. It was motioned, whether to vote verbally, and
by mouth, or that every man should write, were
most expedient, seing that voting in write
would have this advantage, that none would be
byassed to give their vote, from any respect they
might carry to the judgment of others. So it was
carried to give their votes in write, by taking an
halfsheet of paper, on the upper end whereof (all

whom he now dwelt, as well as those whom
he had been forced to leave behind. But
this peace was soon broken in upon by the
unworthy interference of King Charles.
He insisted that the States General should
remove from the United Provinces, colo-
nel Wallace, John Brown, and Robert
MacWard, because they were obnoxious
to his Majesty. The States, with great
reluctance, interposed in this delicate
matter ; and, as we have already fully stat-
ed in our Life of Colonel Wallace, persuad-
ed rather than forced these three VVor-
thies, to withdraw from Holland. This
occurred in February, 1677. For a short
period they were in Germany; but it was
not long till they were permitted to recross
the frontiers of Holland, and take up
their abode in the vicinity of Utrecht.
Mr MacWard, when corresponding with
his session about a successor, thus speaks
of Brown, who was at this time living with
him in prudent retirement :-—“The Lord
hath suffered men to rob you of Mr
being withdrawn) Mr Hog [Minister of the church]
wrote his vote, and so wrapping up the paper to
cover the name, did seal the same at both ends, con—
forme to which, it went round about to all the mem-
bers of the session, only Robert Caldham, who
could not write, did desire Mr Hog to write down
the person’s name which secretly he spoke of to him.
Thereafter it was motioned, who should open the
paper, that he might give a faithful report who the
person was that carried the vote, with whose report
the Session should rest satisfied, that the votes ofpar-
ticular members should be kept secret, out ofrespect
to both the worthy men that were in the leet.
It was voted that Mr Hog should open the pa-
per, who thereupon retiring to his study, and re-
turning againe, gave his report, that Mr Robert
Mac Ward carried it,after which it was thought hard
by some, that the votes should be kepthid and se-
cret, alledging that there was none there, that need
ed to think shame of his vote, whereupon, for re-
moving jealousies, it was agreed, that the paper
containing the particular votes should be shewed to
all, which being seen it was found that Mr
Mac‘Ward had six votes, and that Mr Brown
had only three.”—— Consist. Itcgz'st. vol. ii. (Jan.
1675- Oct. 1697);). 6.





500
SCOTS WORTHIES.








Brown, of whom I have confidence to
say, for a conjunction of great learning,
soundness in the faith, fervent zeal for the
interests of Christ, and the souls of men,
together with his unwearied painfulness
while upon the brink of the grave, spend-
ing his life to give light to others, and lay-
ing out his great receivings for the vindi-
cation of precious truth; contradicted and
blasphemed by adversaries, I know no min-
ister alive (though the residue of the Spirit
be with him) that would fill his room if he
were removed; and, whatever particular
churches or persons may think, Mr Brown
would be missed out of the church of God
at this time, that the greatest men he left
behind would count themselves obliged to
mourn over that miss. Yea, whatever others
may think, it is beyond delate with me,
if our captivity were this day returned,
that this Mr Brown, now removed from
the Scottish congregation of Rotterdam,
would, by a General Assembly, be pitch-
ed upon to fill the most famous place in
the Church of Scotland.”
In the following year Brown returned to
Rotterdam, and was received by his attach-
ed friends with open arms. His sojourn in
this world was now drawing to a close.
Having gone to Amsterdam on a visit, he
died there in the month of September,1679.
Of Brown it may with the greatest
truth be affirmed, that his heart was in his
work.* Deeply impressed with the respon-
sibility of the ministerial office, it seemed
ever his grand and primary aim, faithfully
and affectionately to discharge its important
duties. Rather than violate conscientious
scruples, or relax in his firm adherence to
the sacred cause, he willingly “ suffered the
loss of all things ;” and, like numbers of his
”“ “ Mr Russell shewed to the Session, (Oct. 12,
1679,) that Mr John Brown, before his death, had
appointed 100 guilders to be given to the Session,
for use of the poor, after the selling of his books.”
Consist. Regz'st. vol ii. (Jan. 1675.— Oct. 1697,
p. 6.)

brethren equally minded, he meekly and
cheerfully here many indignities and pri-
vations, which a despotic prince, by means
of fiend-like emissaries, cruelly delighted
to inflict. The subjoined extract is from a
sketch of his character which was written,
immediately after his decease, by Mr Mac-
VVard to a friend in Scotland z——*
“ During all the space we were toge-
ther in the country, I observed him, (his
chamber being just above mine,) to be as
much in prayer and communion with God
as ever I observed any, yea more, insomuch
that my esteem for him grew above what
it had been, though I had good cause.
There was no minister now alive in the
Church of Scotland, in the same class with
him in my esteem and account of abilities,
fixedness, faithfulness, and pure zeal ac--
cording to knowledge; and to sum up all, 1
must say, alas !-—the witness of the Church
of Scotland; the man who withstood the
present course of desertion; the man who,
in resisting the adversaries of the truth of
all sorts and sizes, was helped to do val-
iantly, and made able to do exploits for his
God; the man who, while the archers, (his
brethren I mean, for they were the how--
men,) have sorely grieved him and shot at
him and hated him, yet his bow abode in
its strength, and the arms of his hands were
made strong to his very grave; ay, by the
hands of the mighty God of J acob.——How
hateful soever it may render us to such
who hated a man so greatly beloved of
his Lord and Master, to have the
reasons of what I said rendered, yet as
the Lord may, and I hope shall, prepare
me to bear the load above the burden
they had already laid upon my loins, so
they must prepare themselves to hear
these set before them. And, my friend, I
give you warrant moreover to let as
many know as you please, that however
* Wodrow MSS, Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh,
1 vol. lviii. art. 108.




JOHN BROWN. 501





some were pleased to give it out that there
was a difference and dryness betwixt us,
(because many wish it, and would have
it had been S0,) yet it pleased the Lord
to keep us, till death hath now made a
separation, of the same sort and senti-
ments in all things relating to the public
work and interest of Christ, yea, we were
more so than ever.”
Brown was famous for learning and
faithfulness, warm zeal, and true piety.
He was an able preacher; in contro-
versy, he was acute, masculine, and
strong; in history, plain and comprehen-
sive; in divinity, substantial and correct;
the first he discovers in his Latin
work against the Socinians, and in his
treatise De Causa Des’ contra Anti- Sab-
batarios, which is greatly valued by the
learned. There is also a large manuscript
history, entitled, Apologia pro Ecclesia,
eta, anno Domini 1660, consisting of 1600
pages in 4to, which he gave to Mr Charles
Gordon, sometime minister at Dalmeny, to
be by him presented to the first free Gener-
al Assembly of the Church of Scotland, and
which, accordingly, was presented to the
General Assembly of 1692. Of this his-
tory, the Apologetical Relation seems to be
an abridgment. His letters and other pa-
pers, particularly the History of the Indul-
gence, written and sent home to his native
country, manifest his great and fervent zeal
for the cause of Christ. And his other
practical pieces, such as that on J ustifica-
tion; on the Romans ; Quakerism the Way
to Paganism ; the Hope of Glory; and
Christ the Way, the Truth, and the Life;
the first and second parts of his Life of
Faith ; and Enoch’s Testament opened up,
8.30. ;——all evidence his solid piety, and real
acquaintance with God and godliness.
The Dutch entertained a high opin-
ion of Brown’s theological attainments.
Professors Leydecker and Spanheim, and |
Messrs Borstius, a Brakel and Koelman,l

distinguished native divines, were his inti-
mate friends ; and, by their united and in-
dividual commendations and labours, were
instrumental in extensively disseminating
the able treatises on practical religion, writ-
ten by Brown, during his exile. It is
not our intention to analyze the numerous
books of which he was the author. \Ve may
. here mention, as not generally known, that
several of his more popular writings were
circulated in Holland, some years previous
to being printed in the English language,
by means of the translation of Mr James
Koelman, who obtained the manuscripts
from the author, and rendered them into
Dutch with extreme fidelity. We have
seen seven editions of this foreign version
of Brown’s “ Christ the Way, the Truth,
and the Life,” and different impressions of
some of his other productions, which are
still prized in Holland. This eminent per--
son is repeatedly styled,in the register of the
Scottish Church at Rotterdam, “ a painful
helper” in the cause of their divine Master.
Did our limits permit, we would willingly
dilate on his acknowledged erudition, and
the ability and singular zeal by which he
was distinguished both at VVamphray and
Rotterdam. His memory let us devoutly
cherish! By the grace of God he was what
he was; and in studying the writings and
life of Brown, we cannot fail to admire his
enlightened piety, and earnestly desire to
follow him as he followed Christi)“
For an account of the Rev. John Brown, and
a complete chronological list of his works, see Ed-
inburgh Chrz'stz'anlnstructor, vol.xxi pp 659-668;
vol. xxiii. pp. 827-83] ; also, the numbers for No-
vember and December, 1840, of the New Series of
that periodical. from the pen of the Rev. Dr Burns
of Paisley. Among the latest public acts of Mr
Brown, may be mentioned the ordination of the
martyr, Mr Richard Cameron, which took place in
the Scottish Church, Rotterdam, in the year
1679; Messrs MacWard and Koelman assisting
on that solemn occasion.- Consist. Papers Qf
Scottish C/z Rott.


502
SCOTS WORTHIES.





TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN BROWN.
“ Reader,—-Because some, not knowing
what was the true cause of my silence and
speaking nothing in public, as my worthy
and dear brother, Mr MacWard did, while
we were both of us to depart out of Rot-
terdam, in order to our going out of the
United Provinces,-—in obedience to the
resolution of the States-general, taken in
compliance with the importunate urging of
the king of Britain, contrary to their own
inclinations, being sufficiently convinced of
the injustice of the thing, and of the injury
done to us,——might wonder how it came
that I gave no testimony unto that cause,
for which I was as hardly pursued and
persecuted in strange cities as the rest, and
might hence suppose that my zeal for that
glorious cause, of owning and witnessing
for Christ’s truth, ordinances, and interest,
was cooled, and that sinful fainting and base
timorousness had seized upon me, to the
scandal and offence of the worthy and
valiant sufferers for that cause—to the
grief and trouble of the godly, who yet ad-
here unto that persecuted cause—and to
the rejoicing of the hearts of apostates'
from, and enemies to, the same :—I thought
I was called of the Lord, and under an
obligation to lay hold on this unexpected
occasion and opportunity, to the end I
might remove, so far as I could, all occa-
sion of mistake or stumbling in this matter.
As to that which was the real cause of
my not appearing in public at that time, I
shall not need to say much, seeing it is abun-
dantly well known to all the. Scottish con-
gregations in Rotterdam, and to many
others in that city, that by reason of much
sickness and infirmity of body, under which
I had been for half a year before, occasion-



ed. by the recurring of that chronic dis-
temper which hath afflicted me these eleven
years by-pastr—I was not in case to visit
friends and acquaintances in that city, and
salute them at my departure; nor in case
to preach, as I had purposed, for some diets
before that day. This, and nothing else,
was the true cause of my not appearing in
public, whether to preach a farewell sermon
unto that people unto whom I had for a
long time had liberty and opportunity of
preaching the gospel, or to give any public
testimony unto that noble cause, for which
I had been exiled fourteen years before,
and forced to live all that time in a strange
country.
“ I cannot but acknowledge it to have
been a rare and singular dispensation of
love and grace in God, towards such an
unworthy sinner as I am, that he should
have at first honoured me with banishment,
with six others of his faithful and worthy
servants, with whom I was never worthy
to be named in one day ; and that now, after
he had so wonderfully delivered me from
so many deaths in which I have been these
eleven years past, I should have a second
crown put upon my head, and be honoured
with a second exilement, together with my
dearly beloved brother, after all the rest of
our exiled number were fallen asleep in the
Lord, and enjoying their rest above, after
all their labours and toil here below for
their Lord and Master z—Mr Livingstone,
that great seer and famous divine; zeal-
ous Mr Trail; constant and faithful Mr
Nevay; steadfast and public-spirited Mr
Simpson; and pious Mr Gardner. Herein
I ought to rejoice, and, through his grace,
shall rejoice, that the free grace of God
will yet once more, before I go hence and
be no more in this valley of tears, put
me to undergo a little more for my Lord
and King; and, at last, have me called
and accounted a sufferer for his name and
truth, with my brother, zealous, faithful.




JOHN BROWN.
503


and magnanimous Mr MacW'ard, and
that valiant and faithful old soldier of
Jesus Christ, colonel James Wallace. '
“ Let no man think, that all this lun-
righteous usage, and these injuries I am
put to suffer upon the account of the truth
and interest of Jesus Christ, have in the
least darkened the glory, beauty, and good-
ness of that cause in my esteem, or abated
my affection thereunto, and zeal therefor.
I thank the Lord, all these things do con—
tribute more and more to the confirming
of my soul, in the certain persuasion and
full conviction that this course of defection
and apostasy from the truth and interest
of Christ is hateful and abominable in the
eyes of the Lord, and an iniquity that the
righteous Lord will not suffer to go unpun-
ished, even in the sight of the nations, that
all flesh may tremble before him, and see
how jealous he is for his name and glory.
And I account it my mercy, that I have
this occasion and call, before I receive my
last summons to depart hence, and, before
my decaying tabernacle fall into pieces, to
bear witness to the truth, which is now
blasphemed and buried under heaps of
obloquy and reproach, and to give testi-
mony against this unparalleled catastrophe,
begun in the year 1660, and carried on
since, in Britain and Ireland, by a profane,
predominating, popish, prelatical, malig-
nant, and erastian faction, conspiring
against the Lord and against his Anointed;
who are not satisfied with their own
treacherous and perfidious apostatizing
from the truth, which they once outwardly
owned, defended, and appeared for, in
their several capacities,—in pulpits, assem-
blies, councils, parliaments, and in arms
against king and court, and all that were
engaged against the same; but with rage,
cruelty, inhumanity, and barbarous perse-
cution, do also compel, and with a God-
daring audacity and hellish fury force all,
so far as they can, to blaspheme. and join

with them in the same excess of wicked-
ness and rebellion against the Most High.
“ Though it be but little that I can say
in my present circumstances, wherein, upon
several accounts, I am much out of case
to speak to this great and weighty matter
as I ought, yet not knowing how soon it
may please the Lord, after many granted
issues from death, and unexpected deliver-
ies fi'om the very mouth of the king of ter~
rors, to put an end to my tossings in this
valley of sin, trouble, and distance from
him, I durst not at this present be wholly
silent; but finding myself called of the
Lord to witness a good confession for
him, and for his oppressed truth and
interest, now trod under foot, and tram-
pled upon with the highest insolence, con-
tempt, and audacity, I resolved to speak
a few words to a few heads of things, unto
which other particulars may be reduced.
1. “And first,—to begin with that
horrid sin of covenant-breaking, whereof
the land and the inhabitants thereof stand
in a high measure guilty before the Lord.
It pleased the Lord to choose that land,
and to set his love upon it, because he
loved it; and we became a special people
to himself, above all people that are upon
the face of the earth, so that, though all
the earth be the Lord’s, yet we became a
peculiar treasure unto him, above all peo-
ple. What a wonderful mercy was this,
that the Lord should have made choice of
Scotland, above all other lands, to be his
peculiar covenanted people; and that he
should have avouehed us for his people, and
caused us to avouch him to be our God,
by a solemn Covenant, and that so fre-
quently; for, at five several times did the
Lord bring that land into covenant with
him, and moved them to devote themselves
to the Lord to be his, to own and stand
for the crown, privileges, and prerogatives of
Jesus Christ, to receive and submit to his
doctrine, discipline, and government, and to


504
SCOTS WORTHIES.



have all things done in the house of the God
of heaven, according to the mind and com-
mand of the God of heaven. And what a
singular dispensation of love and favour
was it, that the Lord should have carried
on this work so far, as at length to have
brought the neighbour kingdoms of Eng-
land and Ireland into the same bond of the
covenant, whereby these islands became
the Lord’s in another manner, and more
nighly related to him, than was the whole
continent beside. Was not this the pecu-
liar glory of these lands, to have the God
of the whole earth so nearly related unto,
and engaged for them; and they to become
his espoused land, his peculiar inheritance
and covenanted kingdoms! But now, be-
hold, not only hath there been in the year
1660, and since,-—a manifest, shameful,
wicked, and impudent departing from our
oaths, vows, covenants, promises, engage--
ments, resolutions, declarations, attesta-
tions, proclamations, acts, actings and do-
ings, contrary to what we had sworn, and
that solemnly, with hands lifted up to the
Most High God, with direful imprecations if
we should not stand to the covenant, and
promised under the pain of all the curses con-
tained in the book of God, as we should
answer to him in the great day, when the
secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed.
2. “ That work of Reformation, public and
private, in church and in state, which was
intended by the covenant-obligation, and
in the same sworn to be endeavoured by all
ranks of people, in their several places and
capacities, was, so long as we remained
faithful and singlehearted in prosecuting
the ends of the covenant, owned and coun-
tenanced of the Lord. Endeavours to pro-
move it were blessed, and the work was
carried on with signal demonstrations and
appearances of the Lord from heaven, to the
comfort and establishment of his people,
and to the conviction and terror of enemies.
How is this whole work overthrown! How

are the bulwarks of our defence against pop-
ery removed! And how is the work of re—
formation, that had caused no small ex-
pense of blood, watchings, tears, prayers,
and fastings, overturned in a moment, yea,
and razed to the very foundations ! That
matters now are already at this pass, and
running in this cursed channel, who cannot
see that have eyes in their head, and see
about them ? Since our covenant-obliga
tions were shamefully taken away, and this
first stone of Babel was laid, hath it not
been obvious to all that would not wilful-
ly shut their eyes, what a tendency all
acts, conclusions, consultations, ways, and
courses taken, have had hereunto? The
inundation of irreligion, profanity, blasphe-
my, atheism, and all sort of wickedness that
attended this woful catastrophe, and came
in, as a flood, overruning the whole land,
carrying multitudes away who formerly
seemed at least outwardly religious and so~
her, and wheeling many into that woful and
destructive gulf of indifferency and neutral-
ity in all matters of religion, yea, and blunt-
ing the edge of not a few who formerly
seemed zealous for religion and the cause
of Christ,——is a direful but too evident and
plain demonstration of a spirit prone and
strongly inclining to a returning unto
Egypt; and this quickly appeared in the
kindly reception and setting up of those
abjured prelatical captains, the first foun-
dation of the Romish apostolical hierarchy,
and is a presage of blackness of Egyptian
darkness at hand.
3. “ I must in the next place take notice,
that as it was the great honour and advan-
tage of the Church of Scotland, acknow-
ledged by such abroad as had any Christian
concernments of these matters,—so it was
a signal evidence of the special favour of
God unto, and blessing upon her, that, to-
gether with purity of doctrine, and re-
nouncing of antichristian and heretical er-
ror, he granted unto her reformation in




JOHN BROWN.
505





worship, discipline and ‘government, so
that she had purity of gospel-worship, ac-
cording to the pattern of the New Testa-
ment; and also, according to the same
patterns, gospel-discipline, and government;
and the Lord set the beauty of his orna-
ment in majesty among us. Hence at the
very beginning of reformation in doctrine
and worship, we had the gospel-discipline
of the house of God duly exercised, and
presbyterial government, in its principal
part set up, in General Assemblies, held
twice a year; and, as truth did spread
through the land, popish abominations were
abandoned, and faithful reformed ministers
planted and settled. Together with this,
the nature, end, and extent of church-dis-
cipline and power was, after no small
pains, fully cleared in the Second Book of
Discipline, unanimously agreed upon and
established; and all this was sweetly car-
ried on and put in exercise, until licen-
tious court parasites, in love with papists,
and not loving the wholesome and gentle
yoke of Jesus Christ , but desiring rather
to follow their lusts without any curb or
control, did bring the king first into adis-
like thereof, and thereafter unto a mani-
fest opposition thereunto. Now was this
government and discipline so countenanced

and blessed of the Lord, that it could not i
but be manifest to all, that it was the true
appointment and institution of Jesus Christ;
which afterward, in the Assembly of di-
vines at Westminster, called together by
the parliament of England to search after
a government and discipline most agreeable &
to the primitive pattern, in prosecution of
the ends of the Solemn League and Co-
venant—was found to be the only govern-
ment and discipline that came nearest to the
primitive pattern, instituted by Christ and
his apostles, of all that offered any pre-
tence thereunto. But now, notwithstand-
ing all this, this government and discipline
‘ other ways imaginable.
Christ, countenanced and confirmed by
his signal appearances in the behalf there-
of, that once looked forth as the morning,
fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and ter-
rible as an army with banners, are now
changed into despicable and disorderly
routs !.
4;. “ As for prelacy, which is now again
reintroduced, all who would be found
faithful to Christ, and to his interests,
must bear witness against it, being a
plant which our heavenly Father never
planted; a dominion in the church, not
only destitute of all warrant from the
laws of Christ, but expressly prohibited
by Christ and his apostles, and repugnant
to the government instituted by our
Lord; a power deriving no authority
from, and having no dependence upon
Christ, the head of the church, and sole
fountain of all legitimate church power and
authority; the mere result of pride, am-
bition, and affectation of worldly pomp-and
greatness; the posts and constant troub-
lers of our church; the sworn slaves of
the court, by which only they stood; and
prostituting faith, conscience, religion,
and all honesty, to their ambitious and
avaricious lusts,——an which
church, and state too, at length, through
the good hand of God upon them, did spue
out, as an abominable, loathsome burden,
and cast over the hedge, with all imagi-
nable detestation and abhorrence, and with
universal acclamations of joy, throughout
the whole land, and did bar the door
against their re-entry by renewed cove-
nants, vows, and engagements, and all
Yet now is this
evil, our
isame- abjured prelacy re-established in
of the house of God, instituted by Jesus ,
all its former antichristian grandeur and
tyrannical usurpation, neither out of love.
to the government itself, nor out of love to
the persons installed, being deservedly con-
temptible to all, in whom is any measure
of true ingenuity, for their treachery, per~



3 s
506
SCOTS WORTHIES.


g

fidy, avarice and pride; but merely to
please the king, and out of pure enmity
to the reformation, and to the gospel-
government of Christ’s house, and a
desire after fleshly liberty and carnal
licentiousness.
5. “ That which I shall mention in the
next place is, that which was laid as the
ground of the preceding evil, and of all
the concomitant and consequent corrup-
tions in the church, and which will neces-
sarily perpetuate the same, and reduce the
church and all her interests to nothing,
viz., the supremacy in ecclesiastical mat-
ters, assumed by, and granted to the
king, as head of the church, no less than
of the commonwealth; and this now screw-
ed up to a supra-papal height, wherebyi
Christ is dethroned and spoiled of hisI
royal prerogative and glory, as only Head
and King to and over his visible church
and kingdom; for he will not admit of a
co-rival or competitor, nor suffer any to
share of that glory which is due to him
alone ; and yet by this supremacy, a power
in church matters is granted to the king,
and that as his essential right, and inher-
ent in the crown, equal to that which
Christ himself assumeth and exerciseth
in such things as belong to the external
government of church administrations;
yea, this power granted to the king is made
superior to that which Christ exerciseth;
for the king in all his injunctions and im-
positions must be obeyed, though he com-
mand in and about the worship of God, as
such, what Christ hath not commanded,
/and consequently hath prohibited; as also
though he inhibit and discharge what
Christ hath most expressly enacted and
enjoined.
“ What is this but an evil against which
our worthy predecessors laboured with much
faithfulness and zeal, constantly opposing
all those encroachments, and legally, to
their power, defending the just rights of‘

Christ as King, and the privileges of his
church and kingdom, by testimonies, pro-
testations, declinatures, and sad sufferings?
—-an evil against which we stand solemn_
ly engaged, from the king upon the throne
to the meanest subject, both by the Na
tional Covenant and by the Solemn League
and Covenantl—an evil, finally, wherein
we have exceeded and far outstripped
those of England, and so have more than
justified them in what they have done of
this kind !
6. “ The next thing that I shall mention
is that Act of Council at Glasgow, where-
by so many faithful and honest labourers
in the Lord’s vineyard, to the number of
three hundred and above, more than the
third part of the whole ministry of Scot-
land, were at once thrust out from their
Work, banished from their flocks, and made
to wander with their families, they knew
not whither. I shall not altogether justify
the too ready submission that was given
unto this tyrannical act, whether by myself,
or others; supposing that as matters then
were stated, we were called of the Lord to
stand to our post, until we had been per-
sonally and particularly thrust from our
charges; yea, I conceive, hereby we give
too great encouragement to the enemy, to
proceed in their intended work, to which
this was an open door,-—the consideration
of which, with other circumstances, and sad
consequences of this too ready yielding,
should have moved us to have fed our
flocks, until personal force had particular-
ly enforced our departure.
7. “ Who can mention or recall to mind,
without lamentation and W0, the inhu-
manity and cruelty, which are exercised
to this day, to the end this defection
from, and rebellion against the Lord may
be fixed, established, and perpetuated to af-
ter generations l—VVhat a strange and
wonderful matter is this, that noncompli-
ers, or nonconformists, must be so used, be-


JOHN BROWN.
507






cause they cannot turn so quickly as others
do, who seem to have shaken off all the faith
and all the fear of God, nor turn so pro-
digiously profane and irreligious, as to shake
off so easily all the bonds and obligations of
oaths, vows, engagements, covenants, and
whatever can either bind persons, as men,
or as Christians, to steadfastness and con--
stancy ! What then can all this cruel and
barbarous persecution tend to, but to
drive persons either to manifest and open
atheism, of to avowed rebellion against
God, in practising contrary to conscience,
which always giveth forth its mandates and
prohibitions in the name and authority of
God l—particularly, how is it to be regret-
ted and lamented, that the faithful minis-
ters of Jesus Christ are thus hunted, har-
assed, searched for, and drawn into prisons,
for preaching the kingdom of Christ, and
the poor people in like manner troubled
for hearing of them !
8. “ I cannot but declare my dissent from,
and dissatisfaction with, all compliances
with this course of defection and apostasy
from the Lord, and opposition to, and
manifest war waged against, the Lord and
his Anointed ; against his truth, his cause,
his ordinances, his work, and his interest, first
and last, whether by seeing or accepting of
presentations and collations, or by bonds,
subscriptions, promises,—yea or by si~
lence, as being contrary to our solemn
oaths and vows, made to the Most High,
and also to our Covenants, sworn with
hands lifted up to the Most High God, and
a partaking of the sin of these open ene-
mies to Christ and his cause; anda eon-
firming of them in their wicked courses of
opposition to all the concerns of our Lord.
Especially and particularly, I must bear
witness against the accepting of the In-
dulgence, considered in itself, as a provok-
ing sin before the Lord; renouncing of
the former ground ministers stood upon,
and call by which they acted, and autho—

rity with which they were clothed; a con-
senting unto and confirming of the usurp
ed supremacy; a subordinating of the min-
istry and of ministers, in their most spirit-
ual and ministerial acts, in dispensing word,
sacraments, and church censures, unto the
magistrate; an overturning of our former
orthodox and presbyterian grounds; a
wronging of the churches and the lawful
pastors, in their just liberties and privi-
leges ; a condemning of all our former con-
tendings and pleadings and assertings of
the true prerogative of Christ, as king of
his church; a wreathing an Erastian yoke
upon the neck of the church and her min-
isters, and consequently a violating of our
sacred bonds and obligations.
9. “I shall not take much notice of the
screwing up of the prerogative in civil
matters, many pegs above whatever was
formerly; nor of the many iniquitous acts
and actings, tending to the prejudice of the
subjects as to their civil rights and privi-
leges, and to the hurt and detriment of the
common good, which rulers should by all
lawful means seek to promote, and not
seek their own greatness and establish-
ment; for, when rulers have destroyed the
spiritual rights and privileges of their sub-
jects, as Christians, it is but a small mat-
ter to rob them also of what is their due,
as men, and as members of the civil
society.
“10. I must not forget to bear witness
unto that loyal and magnanimous attempt
to set the crown again upon the head of
our Lord; to deliver the whole land from
the insupportable yoke of tyranny, and un-
just and illegal oppression both of soul and
body; to recover the rights and privileges
of the church, which by wicked hands
had been robbed and taken away; to vin-
dicate, according to the Covenants of the
Lord, the just and lawfiil rights and liber-
ties of the subject; to re-establish, ac-
cording to solemn oaths and vows, the


508
SCOTS WORTHIES.





true and only lawful government of the terprise and adventure, in the year 1666
house of God ;——I mean that laudable en- ] which ended in the defeat at Pentland.*
HENRY HALL

OF HAUGHHEAD.

THE subject of this brief memoir was a
native of the parish of Eckford, in Tiviot-
dale. Having had a religious education,
he began very early to mind a life of holi-
ness, in all manner of godly conversation.
In his younger years he was a most zeal»
ous opposer of the public resolutions that
took place in 1651 ; insomuch that, when
the minister of Eckford complied with that
course, he refused to hear him, and went
often to Ancrum to Mr John Livingstone.
After the restoration of Charles I I., being
harassed by the malicious persecutions of
the curates and other malignants for his
nonconformity, he was obliged to leave
his native country and go to England, in
1665, where he made himself singularly
useful in propagating the gospel, by in-
structing the ignorant, and procuring min-
isters to preach among the people, who, be-
fore his coming, were very rude and bar-
barons. In 1666, he was taken prisoner
on his way to Pentland, to assist his cove-
nanted brethren, and imprisoned with some
others, in Cessford castle. By divine pro-
vidence, however, he soon escaped, through
the favour of his friend the Earl of Rox-
burgh, a relation of his, to whom the castle
then belonged. He retired now to North-
umberland, where, from that time till 1679,
he lived, much beloved by all who knew
him, for his care and anxiety in propagating
the gospel of Christ in that country; so
that his blameless life and. conversation
drew love, reverence and esteem, even from

his enemies. About 1678, the severity of
the persecution in Scotland compelled
many to wander about in Northumberland,
as one Col. Struthers was violently pursu-
ing all Scotsmen in those places. Haugh-
head was present at the skirmish near
Crookham, where Thomas Kerr of Hay-
hop, one of his nearest intimates, a gallant
and religious gentleman, fell. Upon this
he was obliged to return to Scotland,
where he wandered up and down in the
hottest of the persecution, mostly with Mr
Donald Cargill and Mr Richard Cameron.
During that time, besides his many other
christian virtues, he signalized himself by
an ardent zeal in defence of the per--
secuted gospel in the fields. He was one
of those four elders of the Church of Scot--
land, who, at the council of war at Shaw-
head-muir, June 18, 1669, were chosen,
with Messrs Cargill, Douglas, King, and
Barclay, to draw up the “Causes of the
Lord’s Wrath against the Land,” which were
to be the causes of a fast on the day fol-
lowing. He had, indeed, an active hand
in the most part of the transactions a-
mong the Covenanters at that time, as
being one of the commanding officers in
that army, from the skirmish at Drumclog,
to their defeat at Bothwell-bridge.
After this, being forfeited, and diligently
searched for and pursued, to eschew the
violent hands of his indefatigable perse-
cutors, he was forced to go over to Hol-
land—the only refuge then of our Scots suf~
' Abridged from one of the VVodrow MSS., in the Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh.


HENRY HALL OF HAUGH-HEAD. 509


ferers. But he had not remained there iin haste for his men, and after putting up
long, until his zeal for the persecuted in- his horse in another house, he came to
terest of Christ, and his tender sympathy them as a stranger, and, pretending a great
deal of kindness to them both, requested the
pleasure of having a glass of wine with
them. After each had partaken of a glass
and were in some friendly conference, the
governor, wearying that his men came not
up, threw off the mask, and laid hands on
them, saying, they were his prisoners,
commanding the people of the house in the
king’s name to assist; but they all re--
fused except one Thomas George a wait-
er, by whose assistance he got the gate
shut. In the mean while, Haugh-head, be-
ing a bold and brisk man, struggled hard
with the governor until Cargill got off;
and after the scuffle, as he was going off
himself, having got clear of the governor,
Thomas George struck him on the head
for the afflicted remnant of his covenanted
brethren, who were then wandering in
Scotland through the desolate caves and
dens of the earth, drew him home again,
choosing rather to undergo the utmost se-
verity of the persecutors’ fury, than live at
ease in the time of J oseph’s affliction; mak-
ing the generous choice of Moses, who
preferred to the momentary enjoyment of
earthly pleasures, affliction with the people
of God. Nor was he very much concern~
ed about the riches of this world; for he
hesitated not to give his ground to hold
field-preachings on,”‘: when few or none
else would do it; for he was still a true lov-
er of the free and faithful preached gospel,
and was always against the Indulgence.
About a quarter of a year after his re-
turn from Holland, he was for the most
part with Mr Cargill, lurking as privily as
they could about Borrowstounness, and
other places on this and other side of the
Firth of Forth. At last they were taken
notice of by these two bloody hounds, the
curates of Borrowstounness and Carriden,
who soon smelled out Mr Cargill and his
companion, and presently sent information
to Middleton, governor of Blackness castle,
who was a papist. After consultation he
commenced immediate pursuit, and having
ordered his soldiers to follow him at a dis-
tance, in order to avoid suspicion, he with
his man rode after them till they came to
Queensferry; where, perceiving the house
vhere they alighted, he sent his servant off
with a carbine and wounded him mortally.
However, he got out; and by this time the
women of the town, who were assembled
at the gate to the rescue of the prisoners,
conveyed him out of town. He walked
some time on foot, but scarcely spoke, save
only to cast some little reflection upon a
woman whose interposition had prevented
him from killing the governor,—an event
which would have tended greatly to facili-
tate his escape. At last he fainted, and
was carried to a country house near
Echlin ; and although surgeons were speedi-
ly brought, yet he never recovered the use
of his speech afterward. Dalziel, living
near by, was soon apprized of the circum-
stance, and came quickly with a party of
the guards, and seized him; and, although
every one saw the gentleman just dying,
The Rev Ml. George Barclay, who was very yet such was Dalziel’s inhumanity, that he
public at this time, and had his hand at many a carried him to Edinburgh. But he died on
good turn, and was a blessed instrument to the ed- the Way thither, and made an end of his
ification of many souls, but got a waff of that mur-
earthlyupilgrimagg t0 receive his heavenly
derin east-wind, in the rear 1679. said, “The best . - .
g .' i .‘ crown. H1s corpse was carried to the Can-
days that ever he had in preaching of the gospel L
were in the bounds belonging to the laird of“ Ongate tolbOOth: Where it 1a)’ three dais
Haugh-head, worthy Henry Hall, &c.” _; without burial: and even then, tllOUgll hlS




SCOTS WORTHIES.
friends convened for that end, it could not





510

_.\____—____
be granted. At- last they caused him to
be buried clandestinely in the night; for
such was the fury of these limbs of anti-
christ, that after they had slain the witnes-
ses, they would not suffer them to be de-
cently interred, which is another lasting
evidence of the cruelty of these times.
Thus this worthy gentleman, after he
had in an eminent manner served his day

and generation, fell a victim to prelatic
fury. Upon him was found, when he was
taken, a rude draught of an unsubscribed
paper, afterwards called the Queensferry
Paper; which the reader will find inserted
at large in W'odrow’s History, 'vol. ii.
Appendix, No. 56; the substance of
which is contained in Crookshank’s His-
tory, and in the Appendix to the Cloud
of Witnesses.

RICHARD CAMERON.

This devoted Worthy was born in
Falkland, in the shire of Fife, where his
father was a merchant. He was of the
episcopal persuasion at first; but after he
had completed his course of learning, he
was for some time thereafter schoolmaster
and precentor to the curate of Falkland.
He sometimes attended the sermons of the
I‘ndulged, as he had opportunity; but at

last it pleased the Lord to incline him to
go out and hear the field preaching; which
the curates understanding, they endeavour-
ed partly by flattery and partly by threats,
and at last by more direct persecution, to
make him forbear. But such was the
wonderful working of the Lord by his
powerful Spirit upon him, that having got
a lively discovery of the sin and hazard of
prelacy, he deserted the curates altogether;
for no sooner was he enlightened anent
the evil of prelacy, than he began more
narrowly to search into the state of things,
that he might know what was his proper
and necessary duty. The Lord was pleas-
ed to discover to him the sinfulness of the
Indulgence, as flowing from the ecclesias-

tical supremacy usurped by the king; and
being zealous for the honour of Christ,%
he longed for any opportunity to give al
testimony against the Erastian acknow-l
ledgment of the magistrate’s usurped pow--
er over the church. This made him
leave Falkland, and go to Sir Walter Scott
of Harden, who attended the indulged
meetings. Here he took the opportunity,
notwithstanding of many strong tempta~
tions to the contrary, to witness in his
station against the Indulgence. Parti-
cularly on sabbath, when called to attend
the lady to church, he returned from the
entry refusing to go that day; spending it
in his chamber, where he met with much
of the Lord’s presence, as he himself
afterwards testified, and got very evident
discoveries of the nature of these tempta-
tions and suggestions of Satan, which
threatened to prevail with him before;
and upon Monday when he gave a reason
to the said Sir Walter and his lady why
he went not to church with them, he took
occasion to be plain and express in testify-
ing against the Indulgence in its origin
and nature. After which, finding his
service would be no longer acceptable to
them, he went to the south, where he met
with the Rev. Mr John Welch. He staid
some time in his company, and Mr \Velch
finding him a man e very way qualified for the
ministry, pressed him to accept a license
to preach: this, however, he for some time


RICHARD CAMERON.
511.






refused, because having obtained such clear l set the fire of hell to their tails i” He went,
discoveries of the sinfulness of the Indulg-
ence, he foresaw that he would be required
to testify explicitly against it, as he should '
have opportunity to preach the gospel in
public. But the force of his objections be
ing answered by Mr ‘Nelch’s serious so-
licitations, he was prevailed on to accept of
a license from the ejected ministers, who
were then preaching in the fields, and had
not yet complied with the Indulgence.
Accordingly he was licensed by Mr \Velch
and Mr Semple, at I—Iauglrhead in T iviot-
dale, at the house of Henry Hall. Here
he told them, he would be a bone of con-
tention among them; for if he preached
against a national sin among them, it
should be against the Indulgences, and for
separation from the I ndulgcd.
After he was licensed, they sent him at
first to preach in Annandale. He said,
how could he go there? He knew not
what sort of people they were. But Mr
Welch said :—“ Go your way, Richie, and
' 1” ‘sex: .
-, 15." ;“\


and the first day he preached upon that
text :— “ How shall I put thee among the
children,” 820. In the application he said,
“Put you among the children, the offspring
of robbers and thieves; many have heard
of Annandale thieves!” Some of them got
a merciful cast that day, and told it after--
wards, that it was the first field—meeting
that ever they attended; and that they
went out of curiosity, to see how a minis»
ter could preach in a tent, and people sit
on the ground. After this, he preached
several times with Mr \Velch, Mr Semple,
and others, until 1677, that he and Mr
W'elwood were called before that Erastian
meeting at Edinburgh, to be deposed, for
their freedom and faithfulness in preaching
against the sinful compliance of that time.
After this he preached at Maybole, where
many thousands of people were assembled
together, it being the first time that the
sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was there
dispensed in the open fields.’3g At this time
I’ -
.~<~" ‘iv
.\
4?,‘
I’ ‘ \
is *sxj/ ' "/"4‘ "1'4
. A,
--a
‘1/
57/1.’
'= 7 "if;
‘ \ /’A-/Jl// I.
I "/6’ :Wx
W2’?
Q}, Ina.’
r"
I
[Dispensing the Lord’s Supper in the Fields]
' Those who dispensed the sacrament of the Lord's Supper here, were Messrs Archibald Riddle,
John \Velch, Andrew Morton, Patrick \Varner. George Barclay and others.


f _


512
SCOTS WORTHIES.


he used much more freedom in testifying
against the sinfulness of the Indulgences,
for which he was also called before another
meeting of the indulged in Galloway; and
a little thereafter, he was again called be-
fore a presbytery of them, at Sundewall in
Dunscore in Nithsdale. This was the third
time they had designed to take his license
from him. Here it was that Robert Gray,
a Northumbrian, who suffered afterwards
in the Grassmarket, in 1682, Robert Nel-

son and others, protested against them for .
such conduct. At this meeting they pre-
vailed with him to give his promise, that
for some short time he should forbear such
an explicit way of preaching against the
Indulgence and separation from them who
were indulged; which promise lay heavy
on him afterwards, as will appear in its
own proper place.
After giving this promise, and finding
himself by virtue thereof bound up from
declaring the whole counsel of God, he
turned somewhat melancholy; and to pass
the period of time specified by the promise,
in the end of the year 1678, he went over
to Holland, where he conversed with Mr
MacWard and others of our banished Wor-
thies. In his private conversation and ex-
ercise in families, but especially in his pub-
lic sermon in the Scots Kirk of Rotterdam,
he was most refreshing to many souls.
In this sermon he dwelt chiefly upon con-
version, his text being :-—“ Come unto me,
all ye that labour and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest.”* His sermon
was both satisfying and agreeable to Mr
MacWard, Mr Brown, and others, who
had been sadly misinformed by the Indul~
ged, respecting his character and mode of
preaching; for in this instance he touched
on no public matters in reference to the
church, except in prayer, when lamenting
the deplorable case of Scotland by defec-
tion and tyranny.

"f' Mat. xi. 28.

About this time Mr MacWard said to
him :-—“ Richard, the public standard is now
fallen in Scotland; and, if I know any
thing of the mind of the Lord, you are call-
ed to undergo your trials before us; there-
fore go home, and lift the fallen stan-
dard and display it publicly before the
world; but before ye put your hand to it,
go to as many of the field-ministers—for
so they were yet called—as ye can find,
and give them your hearty invitation to go
with you; and if they will not go, go alone,
and the Lord will go with you!”
Accordingly he was ordained by Mr
MacWard, Mr Brown, and Roleman, a
famous Dutch divine. When their hands
were taken off his head, Mr MacWard
continued his still, and cried out :—-“ Behold
all ye beholders; here is the head of a faith-
ful minister and servant of Jesus Christ,
who shall lose the same for his Master’s
interest, and shall be set up before sun
and moon, in the view of the world !”
In the beginning of 1680, he returned to
Scotland, where he spent some time in go-
ing to such ministers as had formerly kept
up‘ the public standard of the gospel in
the fields, but all in vain; for the perse-
cution after Bothwell was then so bet a-
gainst all who had not accepted the Indul-
gence and indemnity, that none of them
would venture upon that hazard except
Donald Cargill and Thomas Douglas,
who came together, and kept a public
fast day in Darmeid-muir, betwixt Clydes-
dale and Lothian; one of the chief causes
of which was the reception of the duke of
York, that sworn vassal of antichrist, into
Scotland, after he had been excluded from
England and several other places. Hav-
ing met several times among themselves to
form a declaration and testimony, they at
last agreed upon one, which was publish-
ed at the market»cross of Sanquhar, June
22, 1680; from which circumstance it is
commonly called the Sanquhar Declara-


RICHARD CAMERON.
513


tion. After this they were obliged for some
time to separate one from another, and go
to different corners of the land; and that
not only upon account of the urgent call
and necessity of the people, who were then
in a most starving condition, with respect
to the free and faithful preached gospel,
but also on account of the indefatigable
scrutiny of the enemy, who, for their bet--
ter encouragement, had, by proclama-
tion, offered 5000 merks for apprehending
Cameron, 3000 for Mr Cargill and Mr
Douglas, and 100 for each of the rest,
who were concerned in the publication of
the foresaid declaration.
After parting, Cameron to
Swine-knowe in New Monkland, where he
had a most confirming and comforting
day, upon that soul-refreshing text :—-—“ And
a man shall be a hiding place from the
wind and a covert from the tempest;
as rivers of water in a dry place; as the
shadow of a great rock in a weary
land.”* In his preface he said, he was
fully assured that the Lord, in mercy to
this church and nation, would sweep the
throne of Britain of that unhappy race of
the name of Stuart, for their treachery and
tyranny, but especially their usurping the
royal prerogatives of Christ; and this he
was as sure of as his hands were upon that
went
cloth; yea, and more sure, for he had that
by sense, but the other by faith.
When he came to preach about Cum-
nock, he was much opposed by the Lairds
of Logan and Horsecleugh, who represent-
ed him as abad character and Jesuit. But
yet some of the Lord’s people, who had re-
tained their former faithfulness, gave him
a call to preach in that parish. When he
began, he exhorted the people to remem-
ber that they were in the sight and pre-
sence ofaholy God, and that all of them
were hastening to an endless state of
well or we. One Andrew Dalziel who
’* Is. xxxi. '2.

was in the house, it being a stormy day,
cried out, “ Sir, we neither know you nor
your God!” Cameron, musing a little,
said :——“ You, and all who do not know
my God in mercy, shall know him in his
judgments, which shall be sudden and sur-
prising in a few days upon you ; and I, as
a sent servant of Jesus Christ, whose com-
mission I bear, and whose badge I wear
upon my breast, give you warning, and
leave you to the justice of God!” Ac-
cordingly, in a few days after, the said
Andrew, being in perfect health, took his
breakfast plentifully, and before he rose
fell a vomiting, and vomited his heart’s
blood into the very vessel out of which he
had taken his breakfast, and died in a
most frightful manner. This admonish-
ing passage, together with the power and
presence of the Lord going along with the
gospel dispensed by him, during the little
time he was there, made the foresaid two
lairds desire a conference with him; to
which he readily assented. After which
they were obliged to acknowledge that
they had wronged him, and desired his
forgiveness. He said, from his heart he
forgave the wrongs they had done to him ;
but for those which they had done to the
interest of Christ, it was not his to for-
give, adding, that he was persuaded they
would be remarkably punished for it.
To the laird of Logan he said, that he
should be written childless; and to Horse-
cleugh, that he should suffer by burn—
ing,—both of which afterwards came to
pass. ,
Upon the fourth of July following
being eighteen days before his death, he
preached at the Grass-water-side near
Cumnock. In his preface that day, he
said:-“ There are three or four things I
have to tell you this day, which I must
not omit, because I will be but a break-
fast or four-hours to the enemy some day
or other shortlv; and then mv work and
I. h) c
o '1‘



514
SCOTS WORTHIES.







my time will both be finished. 1. As
for king Charles II. who is now upon the
throne of Britain, after him there shall
not be a crowned king of the name of
Stuart in Scotland.‘% 2. There shall not
be an old Covenanter’s head above ground,
that swore these covenants with uplifted
hands, ere ye get a right reformation set up
in Scotland. 3. A man shall ride a day’s
journey in the shires of Galloway, Ayr, and
Clydesdale, and not see a reeking‘housc
nor hear a cock crow, ere ye get a right
reformation ; and several other shires
shall be little better. 4. The rod that
the Lord will make instrumental in this,
will be the French and other foreigners,
together with a party in this land join-
ing them; but ye that stand to the tes-
timony in that day, be not discouraged at
the fewness of ‘your number; for, when
Christ comes to raise up his own work in
Scotland, he will not want men enough to
work for him.”
In the week following, he preached in
the parish of Carluke, from these words,
“Shall the prey be taken from the mighty,
or the lawful captive delivered ?”t And the
sabbath following, at Hind-Bottom, near
Crawfordj ohn,he preached from these words,
“ Ye will not come to me that ye may have
life.°’i; During sermon he was seen to weep,
and the greater part of his hearers also,
so that few dry checks were to be seen
in the assembly. After this to the day of
his death he for the most part kept his
chamber door shut until night; for the
mistress of the house where he staid, hav-
ing been several times at the door, got no
admission. At last she forced it up; and,
finding him very melancholy, earnestly de-
sired to know how it was with him. He
said :—“That weary promise I gave to these
ministers has lain heavy upon me, and for
* King James II. never took the coronation oath
of Scotland.
'I- Isa. xlix. 24. 1 John v. 40.

which my carcass shall dung the wilder-
ness, and that ere it be long 3”
near his end, he had such a large earnest
of the Spirit, that longing for full posses-
sion of the heavenly inheritance, he sel-
dom prayed in a family, asked a blessing,
or gave thanks, but he requested patience
to wait for the Lord’s appointed time.
The last sabbath* he preached was with
Mr Cargill in Clydesdale,from these words,
“ Be still, and know that I am God ; Iwill
be exalted among the heathen, I will be
exalted on the earth.”t That day he said,
he was sure that the Lord would lift up a
standard against antichrist that would go
to the gates of Rome, and burn it with fire,
and that “blood” should be their sign
and “ no quarter” their word; and ear-
nestly wished that it might begin in Scot-
land. At their parting, they concluded to
meet the second sabbath after this at
Craigmead; but he was killed on the
Thursday thereafter. And the sabbath fol-
lowing, Mr Cargill preached in the parish
of Shotts, from that text,——“Know ye not
that there is a prince and a great man
fallen this day in Israel ?” v
The last night of his life, he was in the
house of William Mitchell of Meadow-
head, at the water of Ayr, where, about
twenty-three horse and forty foot had con-
tinued with him that week. That mor-
nin g a woman gave him water to wash his
face and hands; and having washed, and
dried them with a towel, he looked at his
hands, and laid them on his face, saying :—
“This is their last washing, I have need to
make them clean, for there are many to
see them!” At this the woman’s mother
wept, when he said z—“Weep not for me, but
Being now
it Another account bears, that his last sermon
was preached at the water of Rennan in Galloway,
and that it was a very prophetical one. But
" though he might have preached there, yet accor-
ding to the time and place, it does not appear to
have been the last sermon that he preached.
“l‘ Psal. xlvi. 10.


RICHARD CAMERON.
515



for yourself and yours, and for the sins of a
sinful land, for ye have many melancholy,
sorrowful, and weary days before you.”
The people who remained with him
were in some hesitation, whether they
should abide together for their own de-
fence, or disperse and shift for themselves.
But that day, being the 22d of July, they
were surprised by Bruce of Earlshall;
who, having got command of Airley’s
troop and Strachan’s dragoons, upon no-
tice given him by Sir John Cochran of
Ochiltree,* came furiously upon them a-
bout four o’clock in the afternoon, when
lying on the east end of Ayr’s-Moss—
When they saw the enemy approaching,
and no possibility of escaping, they all
gathered round Cameron while he delivered
a short prayer in which this expression oc-
curred three times :—“ Lord, spare the green,
and take the ripe !” When ended, he said to
his brother, with great intrepidity z—“Come,
let us fight it out to the last; for this is the
day that I have longed for, and the day that
I have prayed for, to die fighting against
our Lord’s avowed enemies ; this is the day
that we will get the crown !” And to the
rest he said z—“Be encouraged, all of you, to
fight it out valiantly, for all of you that fall
this day I see Heaven’s gates open to
receive you.”
But the enemy approaching, they imme-
diately drew up eight horse, with Cameron
on the right; the rest, with valiant Hack-
ston on the left, and the foot in the cen-
” It is said Earlshall got £500, and Ochiltree
10,000 merks. However, some time after, one
morning about break of day, a fiery pillar of
a bloody colour, seemingly about two yards long,
was seen hanging about that house. The same
day, about two o’clock afternoon, the castle
took fire, and was, with charters, plate. and all,
burnt down to the ground.
father while it was burning, “This is the vengeance
of Cameron’s blood!” That house was never built
-for the new house, estate, and all, are gone from
that race to others.
The son said to the 3

tre; where they all behaved with much
bravery, until overpowered by a superior
number. At last Hackston was taken
prisoner, as will afterwards be more fully
Cameron was killed on the
spot, and his head and hands cut off by
one Murray, and taken to Edinburgh.
The headless body was thrown into ahole in
Ayr’s-Moss. Upon a green hillock in the
Moss, a simple tombstone marks his grave.
Solemn recollections have often been
elicited at Cameron’s grave, and sublime
expressions uttered on the hallowed spot.
Here a little afterwards, did Peden sit
down. He meekly raised his eyes to hea-
ven, and ejaculated, “Oh to be wi Richie !’
Peden, too, had his full share of troubles,
and when these were over, his ashes
at length reposed not far from Cameron’s.*
His father being in prison for the same
cause, they carried the head and hands to
him, to add grief unto his formersorrow,
inquiring if he knew them. Taking his
son’s head and bands, which were very
fair—being a man of a fair complexion,
like himself—he kissed them and said :-—“I
know, I know them; they are my son’s,
my own dear son’s ; it is the Lord; good is
the will of the Lord, who cannot wrong me
nor mine, but has made goodness and mercy
to follow us all our days!” After which,
by order of the Council, our Worthy’s head
was fixed upon the Nether-bow port, and
his hands beside it, with the fingers upward.
Thus this valiant soldier and minister
of Jesus Christ came to his end, after he
had been not only highly instrumental in
turning many souls unto God, but also in
lifting up a faithful standard for his royal
Lord and Master, against all his enemies,
and the defections and sinful compliances
of that time. One of his and Christ’s de-
clared enemies, when he looked at his
head at Edinburgh, gave him this testi-
narrated.
See Lights and Shadows of Scottish Character,
page 51.



. 5
SCOTS WORTHIES.



16
monyz—“There’s the head and hands of a
man who lived praying and preaching, and
died praying and fighting.” And wher-
ever the faithful contendings of the once
famous covenanted church of Scotland
are honourably made mention of, this, to
his honour shall be recorded of him.
After he was slain, there was found up-
on him a short paper, or bond of mutual
defence, which the reader will find insert-
ed in “fodrow’s History, and in the Ap-
l
l
pendix to the Cloud of WVitnesses. There
are some few of his letters now published
with Mr Renwick’s Collection of Letters,
but the only sermon of his that appeared
in print formerly, is the one preached at
Carluke, entitled, Good News to Scotland,
published in 1733. He wrote also in defence
of the Sanquhar Declaration, but we can
give no account of its ever being published.
Some more of his sermons have [lately
been given to the world.

DAVID HACKSTON 0F RATHILLE'I‘.

DAVID HACKSTON of Rathillet, in F ife-
shire, is said in his younger years to have A
given no symptom of religious feeling,
until it pleased the Lord, in his infinite
goodness, to incline him to hear the gospel
then preached in the fields, in consequence
of which he became such a true convert,
that after a mature deliberation upon the
controverted points of the principles of
religion in that period, he at last embarked
himself in that noble cause, for which he
afterwards suffered, with a full resolution
to stand and fall with the despised, perse-
cuted people, cause, and interest of Jesus
Christ.
Hackston does not seem to have distin-
guished himself by any public appearance,
until the 3d of May, 1679, when we’ find
him, with other eight gentlemen, going in
quest of one Carmichael, who had been
commissioned by the archbishop to harass
and persecute all he could find in the shire
of Fife, for nonconfbrmity; but not finding
him, when they were ready to drop the
search, they providentially met with their
arch-enemy himself. So soon as they de—
scried his coach, one of them said, “It seems

their inclination moved them.
hands ;” and proposed that they should
choose one for their leader, whose orders
the rest were to obey. Upon this Hack-
sten was chosen for their commander, but
he refused, in consequence of a difference
subsisting betwixt Sharp and him in a
civil process, wherein be judged himself to
have been wronged by the primate; which
deed he thought, would give the world
ground to think it was out of personal
pique and revenge. They then chose
another, and came up with the coach, got
the bishop out, and wounded him. VVher
he fell to the ground, they ordered him to
pray; but instead of that, seeing Rathillet
at some distance,-—having never alighted
from his horse,——he crept towards him on
his hands and his feet, and said, “Sir, I
know you are a gentleman, you will pro-
tect me.”—~To he answered,
“ I shall never lay a hand on you.” At last
which
he was killed; after which every one ap-
proved or condemned the action just as
However
the deed was wholly charged upon him and
his brother-in-law, Balfour of Kinloch,
’ although he had no active hand in it.
that the Lord hath delivered him into our l
About the latter end of the same month



DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET.
517


of May, that he might not be found want-
ing to the Lord’s cause upon any emer-
gency, Hackston, with some friends from
Fifeshire, made common cause with a few
Covenanters at Evandale, where, after the
declaration, subsequently called the Ruth~
erglen Declaration, had been drawn up by
himself and Mr Hamilton, he repaired a-
long with Mr Douglas to the market-cross
of that same town, and upon the anniver-
sary day, the 29th of May, where they
extinguished the bonfires, and published the
said testimony, they returned to Evandale,
where they were attacked by Claverhouse,
upon the first of June, near Drumclog.
Hackston was on this occasion appointed
one of the commanding-officers,-—-Mr
Hamilton being commander-in-chief, Where
he behaved with much valour and gal-
lantry during that skirmish. After this
Hackston was a very useful instrument
among that faithful remnant, to which his
repeated protests against the corrupt and
Erastian party bear witness. He had also
an active hand in the most part of the
public transactions among them, until that
fatal day, the 22d of June, where he and
his troop of horse were the last upon the
field of battle at Bothwell bridge.
But this worthy and religious gentleman
being new declared a rebel to the king—
though no rebel to Zion’s King—and a
proclamation issued out, offering a reward
of 10,000 merks to any who could inform
against, or apprehend, either him, or any of
those concerned in the death of the arch-
bishop of St Andrews, he was obliged to
retire out of the way for about a year,
during which time he did not neglect
to attend the gospel in the fields, wherever
he could hear it faithfully preached. But
it could not be expected that this should
continue long; and accordingly, upon the
22d of July, 1680, having been a few days
with that little party, who attended Mr,
Richard Cameron at Ayr’s-Moss, theyA

were surprised by Bruce of Earlshall.
Airley’s troop, and Strachan’s dragoons.
Being commander-in-chief of that little
band, when he saw the enemy approaching
fast, he rode off, followed by the rest, for
the purpose of securing proper vantage-
ground; but seeing that this could not be
obtained, they turned back, and drew up
quickly, eight horse being on the right, and
fifteen on the left, and the foot, who were
but ill armed, in the centre. He then
asked if they were all willing to fight;
and, receiving a favourable answer, both
armies advanced. A strong party of the
enemy’s horse coming hard upon them,
our horsemen fired, killing and wound-
ing several of them, both horse and foot.
Upon this they advanced to the enemy’s
very faces, where, after giving and receiv-
ing fire, Hackston being in fi'ont, and
finding the horse behind him in disorder,
galloped in among them, but escaped with-
out any damage; however, being assailed
by several, with whom he fought a long
time, he at length stuck in a bog; when the
foremost of them, one Ramsay, an old ac-
quaintance, followed him in, and being on
foot, they fought for some time with small
swords, with but little advantage on either
side. Closing at length, he was struck
down by three of the dragoons, who, com-
ing behind him, wounded him severely on
the head. After this he was with the rest
of the prisoners carried to the rear, where
they gave them all the character* of brave,
resolute men. He was next brought to
Douglas, and from thence to Lanark,
where Dalziel threatened to roast him alive
for not satisfying him with answers. After
which he and other three prisoners were
" Some of these bloody enemies said, that that
handful were men of the greatest courage that ever
they set their faces to fight against although they
had been at battles abroad: and that if they had
been as well trained, horsed and armed, as they
were, they would surely have been put to flight.
Few of them escaped; for their shots and strokes





518
SCOTS WORTHIES.





taken to Edinburgh, where, by order
of the council, they were received by the
magistrates at the Watergate. Hackston
was set on a horse’s bare back, with his face
backward, and the other three laid on a
bar of iron, and carried up the street, with
Mr Cameron’s head on a halbert before
them, to the Parliament Close, where
Hackston was taken down, and the rest
loosed by the hands of the hangman.
He was immediately brought before the
council, where his indictment was read
by the chancellor, and himself examined;
which examination, and his answers there-
to, being elsewhere* inserted at large, it may
suffice here to observe, that being asked if
he thought the bishop’s death murder? he
told them, that he was not obliged to an-
swer such questions ; yet he would not call
it so, but rather say, it was not murder.
Being further asked, if he owned the
king’s authority, he replied :—“ That though
he was not obliged to answer, yet as he
was permitted to speak, he would say
something to that ;—1. That there could
be no lawful authority but what was
of God, and that no authority stated in a
direct opposition to God, could be of God,
and that he knew of no authority nor jus~
ticiary this day in these nations, but what
were in a direct opposition to God, and so
could neither be of God, nor lawful; and
that their fruits were evincing it, because
they were setting murderers, sorcerers,
and such others, at liberty from justice,
and employing them in their service, and
making it their whole work to oppress,
kill, and destroy the Lord’s people.” Bishop
Paterson asked, “ If ever Pilate and that
judicature who were direct enemies to
were deadly, of which few recovered ; for though
there were but nine of the Covenanters killed, yet
there were twenty-eight of the enemy killed, or
died of their wounds in a few days.-- Walker’s
Memoirs, p. 56.
it See his Letters and Answers in the Cloud of
Witnesses.

Christ, were disowned by him as judges ?”
to which he said, “ he would answer no
perjured prelate in the nation.” Paterson
replied, “ He could not be called perjured,
since he never took that sacrilegious cov-
enant.” Hackston answered, “ That God
would own that Covenant, when none of
them were to oppose it. ” Notwithstand-
ing these bold, free, and open answers,
they threatened him with torture; but this
he altogether disregarded.
Being brought again before the council
on the 20th, his answers were much to
the same purpose. The chancellor call-
ed him a vicious man: he replied, “that
while he was so, he had been acceptable to
him; but now, when otherwise, it was dif~
ferent.” Being asked whether, “ if set at
liberty, he would own that cause with his
blood,” he answered, “ that both their fa’
thers had owned it with the hazard of their
blood before him.” Then he was called by
all a murderer. He answered, “ God should
decide it betwixt them, to whom he refer-
red it, who were the greatest murderers in
his sight.” Bishop Paterson’s brother,
in conference, told him, that the whole
council found that he was a man of great
parts, and also of good birth. Hackston
said, for his birth he was related to the
best in the kingdom, which he thought lit-
tle of; and as for his parts, they were very
small ; yet he trusted so much to the good-
ness of that cause for which he was a pris-
oner, that if they would give God that
justice as to let his cause be debated, he
doubted not to plead it with all that spake
against it.
Upon the 27th he was taken before the
court of justiciary, where he declined the
king’s authority as an usurper of the prero-
gative of the Son of God, whereby he had
involved the land in idolatry, perjury, and
other wickedness; and declined them, as
exercising under him the supreme‘ power
over the church,usurped from Jesus Christ


DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET.
519



and therefore durst not, with his own
consent, sustain them as competent judges;
regarding them as open and stated enemies
to the living God, and competitors for his
throne and power, belonging to him only.
011 the 29th he was brought to trial,
when the council, in a most unprecedented
way, appointed the manner of his execution;
for they well knew his judges would find
him guilty. Upon Friday the 30th, being
brought again before them, and asked if
he had any more to say; he answered,—
“What I have said I will seal.” They then
told him they had somewhat to say to him,
commanding him to sit down and receive
his sentence. He complied, but at the same
time, told them they were all murderers;
for all they had was derived from tyran-
ny; and that these years bygone, they had
not only tyrannized over the church of God,
but also grinded the faces of the poor; so
that oppression, perjury, and bloodshed,
were to be found in their skirts.
Upon this he was removed from the bar,
drawn backward on a hurdle to the place
of execution at the cross of Edinburgh.
None were suffered to attend him but two
bailies, the executioner, and his servants.
He was permitted to pray to God, but not
to speak to the people. Having reached
the scaffold, his right hand was struck off,
and alittle after his left ; which he endured
with great firmness and constancy. The
executioner being long in cutting off the
right hand, he desired him to strike on
the joint of the left; which being done, he
was drawn up to the top of the gallows
with a pulley, and suffered to fall down from
a considerable height upon the lower scaf-
fold, three times, with his whole weight, and 7
then fixed at the top of the gibbet; after
which the executioner, with a large knife
cut open his breast, and pulled out his
heart before he was dead; for it moved
when it fell on the scaffold. The monster
then stuck his knife in it, and showed it on \
iall sides to the people, crying, “ Here is the
heart of a traitor!” At last he threw it
into a fire prepared for that purpose ; and,
having quartered his body, his head was
fixed on the Nether Bow ; one of his quar-
ters, with his hands, at St Andrews; an_
other at Glasgow; a third at Leith, and the
fourth at Burntisland.—Thus fell this
champion for the cause of Christ, a sacri-
fice to prelatic fury, to gratify the lust and
ambition of wicked and bloody men. But
Hackston’s memory still lives; -—-though
whether his courage, constancy, or faithful—
ness, had the pre-eminence, it is hard to
determine.
TESTIMONY
OF
DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET.
To A CHRISTIAN FRIEND-
“ I know this late dispensation of Provi-
dence will occasion much sadness to you
and other lovers of the Lord’s truth, now
in this day, when so few, by their practice,
prove themselves to be zealous for God, or
lovers of his truth; but instead of that
growth in the graces of God’s Spirit, and
steadfastness which should be in Christians,
have made defection from the truth, and
are fallen from their first love, to the
strengthening the hands of usurpers of
the crown of Christ, in their unlawful
encroachments on the privileges of the Son
of God. Wherefore I entreat you, and all
I others, as you would not offend God, and
l provoke him to more anger, do not mur—
mur, but bless and praise him, and submit
to him in all humility ; for if this be one of
the steps of Zion’s deliverance, and God’s
glory, why should not we praise him for
everything? If we had the manner of our
delivery at our carving, we would spoil
it.—He is the wisdom of the Father, who
sits at the helm and orders all affairs. The



520
SCOTS W ()RTHIES.



faith of this would silence all suggestions
from Satan, our own hearts, and misbelief.
Idesire you would charge all that have
love or affection to me, not to be sad on my
account, but rather to rejoice on my behalf,
that God hath so honoured me in all I have
been trysted with: for, as he took me when
[was a slave to Satan and sin, and cast
his love upon me, and plucked me as a
brand out of the fire, and brought me into
covenant with him, to promote and carry
forward his work, without fear of what man
can do unto me; and as he helped me to
make the bargain with him upon good
terms, which was a renouncing of my own
strength, and a resolution to do all in his
strength ; so now he hath been faithful in
all things to me, and bath furnished me
sufficiently for what he hath called me to,
and hath passed by my many gross failings
and breaches of my conditions to him, and
bath done to me above what I could ask
of him. O that I could commend him to
all, and stir up all to fear, admire, and
praise him, and believe on him ! But the
lukewarmness and want of love to God, and
indifferency in Christ’s matters, (which in
his condescendency to his church he hath
reserved as his declarative glory) and neu-
trality in these things, are come to so great
a height among professors, that I think
God is laying a stumhlingblock before
them, one after another, that when they
are fallen (whom he will have to fall) he
may be glorified in his justice, by bringing
that stroke of vengeance that seems to be
hanging over these lands ;—because of the
fearful idolatry, perjury, bloodshed, blas-
phemy, and other abominations, the whole
land is this day guilty of. Think it not
strange that I say, all are guilty; there are
none free, nor shall be reputed free in the
sight of God, but mourners in Zion. Lord
grant repentance, and a spirit of mourning;
brokenness and contrition of spirit is the
only sacrifice well-pleasing unto God; and

I prove all guilty.
tives (and so we in them) established these
sins, in our national. decrees, which we
F irst. our representa-
have homologate ir owning them ever
after; and much more have we homologate
their sins, in contributing, one way or other,
to the strengthening of their hands against
God ;—as alas, but few are free of this, this
day! O that preachers would preach re-
pentance, and professors would exhort one
another to mourn, in secret and together.
because of sin; and with their mourning
would believe ;—for these are very consis-
tent together. Ifind flesh and lJiOOd great
enemies to faith, and friends, vea. fosterers
of sinful fears. It is above nature to be-
lieve, especially when dispensations seem to
contradict our faith: but if any hath faith
towards God concerning me, let not this
brangle their faith, but rather strengthen;
there is nothing can’ contradict what God
hath determined; but over the belly of all
opposition he will perfect his work in and
by me, either to a remarkable delivery, or
through-bearing, as he sees most for his
own glory. ,
“lVherefore let us submit to his will,
and lie before the throne, in behalf of Zion
and her children; and O! that you your-
self would, and desire others that are faith-
ful, to hold up my case to Zion’s God, that
he would glorify himself in me, and let
your prayers be in faith ; ‘ To him that be—
lieveth, all things are possible.’ There are
many feckless, misbelieving prayers, that
prevail not with God because of unbelief
I know these sufferings will be a great
stumbling to many, otherwise gracious, but
let it not be to you : I bless the Lord, it is
not (as yet) so to me, but rather the power,
yea, the love of God to me; for it was not
altogether unexpected to me: for (not to
reflect upon any that have sealed that truth
and cause, as we stated it, with their blood)
I cannot deny, but it was over the belly of
conscience, that -I joined with some of our


DAVID HACKSTON OF RA'I‘HILLET.
521


party ; for some of them had not their gar-
ments clean of the late defections, and
there was too much pride amongst us;
neither dare I allow, that taking of satis-
faction for practices which are the homolo-
gating of the public sins, which we did a-
bout half an hour before our break; which
checked me exceedingly at the time. I
think real sorrow would make men like
the prodigal, to think themselves not wor-
thy to be employed in that work; real evi-
dences of reconciliation with God should be
seen before admission to such an employ-
ment. O that all would take warning, by
my reproof, not to venture to follow any
man over conscience! There were choice
godly men among us, but one Achan will
make Israel to fall. 1 fear the want of
faith among us, first and last, and all
along our late business; I know many
mouths will be opened against me because
of what I did before this business, but I
dare not but speak it,-—this is a stumbling-
block laid to drive them to more sin, and,
alas! that I did not more to purge us of
every sin, especially known sin among us.
These that abode within, and came not out
with us, let them remember Meroz’s curse ;
I am afraid God will think them not free
of our blood, for not joining to our help.
i “ And now, knowing ye will be anxious
to know how it was then, and how it hath
been since with me,——First, we getting
notice of a party out seeking us, sent two
on Wednesday night late, to know their
motion, and lay on a moor-side all night;
and Thursday, about ten hours, we went to
take some meat, and sent out other two,
and desired them to consult with the first
two who had not come to us, but were
lying down to sleep, who all four returned
and told us, it was unnecessary to send
any for intelligence, they having secured
it. Whereupon, after we had got some
meat, we came to a piece of grass, and lay
down, and presently we were all alarmed ,

that they were upon us; and so making
ready, we saw them coming fast on; and
that about three or four hours in the af-
ternoon; and each one resolving to fight,
I rode off to seek a strength for our advan-
tage, and being desired by a countryman
to go into such a place for the best
strength, I went, and they followed; but
coming to it, I found we could go no fiir-
ther; and so turning and drawing up
quickly, eight horse on the right hand with
R. D. and fifteen on the left with me, be-
ing no more: the foot not being forty, and
many of them ill armed, in the midst. I
asked all, if they were willing to fight?
who all said, Yes; especially I. G. The
enemy advanced fast, whom I took to be
above one hundred and twelve, well armed
and horsed; who sending first about twenty
dragoons on foot to take the wind of us,
which we seeing, sent a party on foot to
meet them, and the rest of us advanced
fast on the enemy, being a strong body
of horse coming hard upon us; where-
upon when we were joined, our horsemen
fired first, wounding and killing some of
them, both horse and foot ;—our horse ad»
vanced to their faces, and we fired on each
other; I being foremost, after receiving
their fire, and finding the horse behind
me broken, rode in among them, and
went out at a side, without any Wrong or
wound; I was pursued by several, with
whom I fought a good space; sometimes
they followed me, and sometimes I follow-
ed them; at length my horse bogged, and
the foremost of theirs, which was David
Ramsay, one of my acquaintance; we both
being on foot, fought it with small swords,
without advantage to one another; but at
length closing, Iwas stricken down by
three on horseback behind me; and, receiv—
ing three sore wounds on the head, and so
falling, he saved my life,-— which I submit-
ted to. They searched me, and carried
me to their rear, and laid me down. where



3 U
522
SCOTS WORTHIES.



I bled much; where were brought several
of their men sore wounded. They gave us
\Vhat
more of our men were killed, I did not see,
nor know; but as they told me after, the
field was theirs. I was brought toward
Douglas. They used me civilly, and
all testimony of brave resolute men.
brought me drink out of a house by the
way. At Douglas, Janet Cleland was
kind to me, and brought a surgeon to me,
who did but little to my wounds, only
stanched the blood.
“ Next morning, I was brought to Lanark,
and taken before Dalziel, Lord Ross,
and some others who, asked many ques-
tions at me ; but I not satisfying them with
answers, Dalziel did threaten to roast
me; and carrying me to the tolbooth,
caused me to be bound most barbarously,
and cast me down, where I lay till Satur-
day morning, without any, except soldiers,
admitted to speak to me, or look my
Wounds, or give me any case whatsoever.
And next morning they brought me and
John Pollock, and other two of us, hear
two miles on foot, I being without shoes,
where that party which had broken us at
first, received us. They were commanded
by Earlshall. We were horsed, civilly used
by them on the way, and brought to Edin-
burgh about four in the afternoon, and car-
ried about the north side of the town to the
foot of the Canongate, where the town
' magistrates were, who received us; and set-
ting me on a horse with my face backward,
and the other three bound on a goad of
iron, and Mr Cameron’s head carried on a
halbert before me, and another head in a
sack, which I knew not, on a lad’s back;
and so we were carried up the street to
the Parliament-close, where I was taken
down, and the rest loosed : all was done by
the hangman. I was carried up to the
council, and first put into a room alone,
where the chancellor came, and asked if I
knew him? I answered, Yes. He (after

some protestations of love, to which I an-
swered nothing) went his way; and then
I was brought in before the council, where
the chancellor read a ditty against me.
First, anent the bishop’s murder; to which
I answered, I was obliged by no law, either
of God or man, to answer to it; and nei-
ther to accuse myself, nor reveal others by
vindicatin g myself, or any other way. The
advocate asked, Where I was the third day
of May was a year? To whom I answer-
ed, I am not bound to keep a memorial
where I am, or what I do every day. The
chancellor asked, If I thought it murder?
To which I answered, though I was not
bound to answer such questions, yet I would
not call it so, but rather say, It was no
murder. The advocate said, Sir, you must
be a great liar, to say you remember not
where you was that day, it being so re-
markable a day. I replied, Sir, you must
be a far greater liar, to say, I answered
such a thing. Whereupon the chancellor
replied, My lord advocate, he said only, he
was not bound to keep in memory every
day’s work.
" The chancellor asked, If I adhered to
Mr Cargill’s papers, which they called the
New Covenant taken at Queensferry? I
answered, I would know what any would
say against them. He asked, If I owned
the king’s authority? I told, though I was
not bound to answer such questions, yet
being permitted to speak, I would say some-
what to that. And first, that there could
be no lawful authority but what was of God ;
and that no authority, stated in a direct
opposition to God, could be of God; and
that I knew of no authority nor judicatory
this day in these nations, but what were in
a direct opposition to God, and so could
neither be of God, nor lawful, and that
their fruits were kything it, in that they
were setting murderers, sorcerers, and
such others at liberty from justice, and
employing them in their service, and made


DAVID HACKSTON OF RATHILLET.
523


it their whole work to oppress, kill, and
destroy the Lord’s people. The chancel-
lor and all raged, and desired me to in-
stance one of such so set at liberty and
employed. I answered to that, Though it
were enough to instance any such when I
saw a judicatory to execute justice, yet I
would instance one; and I instanced a
person, liberated at the sheriff court of
Fife, and afterwards employed in their ser-
vice. At which the chancellor, raged and
said I behoved to be a liar; but I offered
to prove it. Bishop Paterson asked, if ever
Pilate and that judicatory, who were direct
enemies to Christ, were disowned by him
as judges? I answered, that I would an-
swer no perjured prelate in the nation. He
answered, that he could not be called per-
jured, because he never took that sacri-
legious covenant. I answered, that God
would own that covenant when none of
them were to oppose it. They cried all, I
was prophesying: Ianswered, Iwas not pro-
phesying, but I durst not doubt, but that
God, who had such singular love to these
lands, as to bring them into covenant in so
peculiar a manner with him, would let it
be seen that his faithfulness was engaged
to carry it through in opposition to his
enemies. Some asked, what I answered
to that article of the Confession of Faith
concerning the king ? I answered, It was
cleared in these two covenants. The ad-
vocate asked, “what I said of that article
of the covenant, wherein we are bound to
maintain and defend the king? I desired
him to tell out the rest of it, which was in
defence of religion, but not in the destruc-
tion of religion. The chancellor threatened
me with the Boots, and other terrible
things, and said, I should not have the
benefit of a sudden death. To which I
answered, it would be but an addition to
their cruelties used against God’s people
before, and that I was there a prisoner of
Christ, owning his truths against his open

enemies, and referred to their own acts
of parliament and council, to let their
cruelty and opposition to God and his peo~
ple be seen.
“After this, they called for a surgeon,
and removed me to another room; where
be dressed my wounds. In which time
the chancellor came and kindly asked, If
ever I said to a shepherd on the Mount-
hill, That if I thought they would not put
me to an ignominious death, I would refer
myself to the chancellor? I said, No.
He said,—A shepherd came to him and
I said, that he, or any other who
I was
said so.
had said so to him were liars.
asked by some concerning our strength:
to whom I told how few we were, and
that surprised by such a strong party,
and knowing with what cruel orders they
came against us, we were forced to fight.
After dressing my wounds, I was brought
back to them, and these things being
written, were read over to me ; to which 1
adhered: and being asked if I would sign
them, I said, No. The chancellor said
he would do it. for me. Some one of them
asked at the same time concerning my
being at some other business; to whom I
answered,—That though I was not obliged
to answer such questions, yet I adhered to
all that had. been done in behalf of that
cause against its enemies. After which,
I was sent to the tolbooth, and have met
since with all manner of kindness; and
want for nothing. hly wounds are duly
dressed, which, I fear, may prove deadly
they being all in the head, the rest of my
body is safe.
“ In all these trials,—-I bless the Lord—-
Iwas stayed, unmoved; no alteration of
countenance in the least, nor impatience
appeared. Some of them have'come to
me, and regretted that such a man as I
should have been led away with Cameron.
I answered,—He was a faithful minister of
Jesus Christ, and as for me, I desired to be


524
SCOTS WORTHIES.



one of those despicable ones whom Christ
choosed. They said it was a Quaker—
like answer.
Christ and his apostles. Bishop Paterson’s
brother, unknown to me, had a long
reasoning with me, but, I think, not to
truth’s advantage. He told me that the
whole council observed that I gave them
not their due titles; at which I smiled,
and made no reply. He said I was ill to
the bishop. I told that I asserted the
truth. He said that he never took the
covenant, and so could not be perjured.
I answered prelacy itself was abjured by
the whole nation. He told me that the
whole council found that I was a man of
great parts, and also of good birth. I re-
plied, that for my birth I was related to
the best in the kingdom, which I thought
little of ; and for my parts they were small;
yet I trusted so much to the goodness of
that cause for which I am a prisoner, that
if they would give God that justice as to
let his cause be disputed, I doubted not to
plead it against all that could speak against
it. It was cast up to me both at the
council and here, that there were not two
hundred in the nation to own our cause.
I answered at both times, that the cause of
Christ had been often owned by fewer. I
was pressed to take advice; I answered, I
would advise with God and my own con-
science, and would not depend on men, and
refused to debate any more, since it was to
no purpose, being troublesome to me, and
not advantageous to the cause. At the
council, some said I was possessed with
a devil; some one thing, some another.
The chancellor said I was a vicious man;
I answered while I was so I had been ac-
ceptable to him ; but now when otherwise,
it was not so. He asked me if I would
yet own that cause with my blood, if at
liberty? I answered, both our fathers had
owned it with the hazard of their blood
before me.
I told it was the words of '

murderer. I answered, God should decide
it betwixt us, to whom I refer it, who were
most murderers in his sight,——they or I ?
“ You have an account, as near as I can
give, of what passed among us. Be you,
and desire all others to be, earnest with
God in my behalf; for I am weak, and
cannot stand without constant supplies of
the graces of his Spirit. Oh! I am afraid
lest I deny him; I have rich promises, but
I want faith. Pray and wrestle in my be-
half, and in behalf of the rest. And show
this to my friends in that cause with me,
especially D. K. Let all lie before the
Lord, that he would show us the cause
of his anger against us ; and let me know,
with the first occasion, who of us were
slain. Commend me to all friends; and
let none stumble at the cause, because of
this. It was often in my mouth to almost
all, ‘ that if we purged not ourselves of the
public and particular sins amongst us, God
would break us, and bring a delivery out
of our ashes.’ Let none murmur at what
we should think our glory. And let min-
isters and others be afraid to be more ten-
der of men than God’s glory. And how-
ever it be a stumbling to some, let it be a
token of the love of God to his church, to
you, and all that love his truth. Pray for
the out-lettings of all the graces of God’s
Spirit to me, and all the rest. I have need
of patience, submission, humility, love to,
and zeal for God ; hope and faith above all,
without which I am but a frail worm, and
will fall before these enemies of mine,
inward and outward. And thus recom-
mending you to his grace, who hath bought
us with his precious blood, and remember-
ing my love to all friends, I am, yours in
our sweet Lord and Sympathizer in our
afflictions:—
DAVID HAoKsToN.”
“ P.S.——You may let others see this, but
have a care to keep it; because I have no
Then was I. called by all, a double, and it may be all my Testimony.”



ROBERT KER OF KERSLAND.
525


ROBERT KER OF KERSLAND.

THE subject of this brief memoir, having
been born and educated in a very religious
family, began early to discover more than
an ordinary zeal for religion. His first
public appearance was in 1666, about
November 26, when he, Caldwell, and
some others of the Renfrew gentlemen,
gathered themselves together, and marched
eastward to join colonel Wallace, and
that little handful who renewed the Cove-
nants at Lanark. Having heard that
general Dalziel was by that time got
betwixt them and their friends, they were
obliged to dismiss. This could not escape
the knowledge of the managers; for the
laird of Blackstown, one of their own num-
ber, upon a promise of pardon informed
against the rest, and ensured his own safety
by accusing his neighbour.—But of this
he had nothing to boast of afterwards.
Kersland was after this obliged to re-
move out of the way; and next year he was
forfeited in his life and fortune, and his
estate given to lieutenant-general Drum-
mond of Cromlie, and his lands in Beith to
William Blair of that Ilk ; which estate
they unjustly held till the Revolution.*
- After this, to elude the storm he went?
over to Holland, and there chose to live
with his family at Utrecht, Where he had
the advantage of hearing the gospel, and
other excellent conversation. In that place
he continued nearly three years. But his
friends thinking it necessary that he should
return home to settle some of his affairs,
-—if possible,—his lady arrived in the end
of 1669,a1.d himself soon after. To his
" For a particular account of this gift, see Sam-
son’s Riddle, 8:0. page 139, 144.

unspeakable grief, however, he found, when
he reached Edinburgh, that she was in bad
health, in the house of a woman who was
friendly to the sufferers. And though he
lodged in a more private place, and used
only to visit his lady in the evenings, one
Cannon of Mardrogate, who had not alto-
gether cast off the mask—at least his
treachery and apostasy were not then dis~
covered—having got notice of it, gave
information to the chancellor. Orders
were immediately procured from Lauder-
dale, who was then in town, to search that
house, on pretence that Mr Welch was
holding conventicles in lady Kersland’s
chamber; but their design was for Kers-
land himself, as will afterwards appear.
Accordingly a party came ; and, finding no
conventicle, were just about to retire, when
one Murray from Mardrogate, receiving
particularinformation that when any com-
pany came to the room, Kersland in the
evening used to retire behind a bed; and,
having a torch in his hand, provided for
that end, said, he behoved to search the
room ; and, going straight behind the bed,
brought him out and charged him to
surrender his arms. Kersland told him
he had no arms but the Bible, which
was then in his hand—a spectacle which
was sufficient to condemn him in these
times.—— On parting with his lady she show-
ed much calmness and composure, exhort-
ing him to do nothing that might wound
his conscience, out of regard to her or her
children, and repeated that text of Scrip-
ture :-—“ No man having put his hand to
the plough, and looking back, fit for the
, kingdom of God.”



526
SCOTS ‘WORTHIES.





He was forthwith taken to the guard-
house, and from thence to the Abbey,
where a number of the council, that same
night, were assembled for his examination.
‘W7 hen brought before them, they asked
him concerning the lawfulness of the ap-
pearing at Pcntland; which he, in plain
terms, owned to be lawful and what he
thought duty; upon which he was im-
mediately imprisoned. When going away,
the chancellor upbraided him with what
had passed betwixt him and his lady; but
he bore it with great patience.
He was nearly three months prisoner in
Edinburgh; after which he was sent to
Dumbarton castle, where he was confined
near a year and a half. He was afterwards
ordered to Aberdeen, where he was kept
close prisoner, without fire, for three
months, in the dead of winter. From
Aberdeen, he was brought to Stirling cas-
tle, where he was detained some years.
He was a second time sent back to Dum—
barton, and there kept till October 1677.
During the severe sufferings to which Ker
was subjected for a long series of years, his
constancy remained unshaken. By the
grace of God he was enabled to maintain
his allegiance to Christ’s persecuted cause,
even to such a degree, that the utmost rig-
ours of a prison could not extort from him
Like Paul and Silas
he sang praises to God amidst the gloom
of his dungeon, assuring himself that God
would at length work out his deliverance.
It was therefore with a joyful heart he re-
ceived orders at this time to remove to
Irvine, and that he was to be permitted to
take with him his family, who were then
in Glasgow; but he was allowed only a
short time to transport himself and fam-
ily to that place.
In Glasgow he was waited upon by many
friends and acquaintances, but on the very
night he visited his family, after such a
long and painful absence, when walking in
a single complaint.

company with lady Caldwell and her fam-
ily, he was taken prisoner by a party of
the town-guards and detained in custody
till next day, when the commanding-
oflicer would have set him at liberty,
but durst not, till he had consulted the
archbishop. Unfortunately the application
was unfavourable, and he was immediate-
1y Ordered to the tolbooth. The arch-

Glasgow Tolbooth.
bishop took horse soon after for Edin-
burgh; lady Kersland followed, if pos-
sible, to prevent misinformation—In the
mean time, a fire breaking out in Glasgow,
the tolbooth being in danger, and the ma
gistrates refusing to let out the prisoners,
the well-affected people of the town got
long ladders and set them free, and among
the rest Kersland, after he had been eight
years in confinement. After the bustle
was over, he inclined to surrender himsell
anew, but hearing from his lady of the
archbishop’s design, he kept under hiding
all that winter.* In the spring'and sum-
mer following, he joined himself to the
persecuted ministers, heard the gospel
* It would appear, says Wodrow, that he was
retaken about the end of that year, but liberated
without conditions—a thing very uncommon in
those times.





DONALD CARGILL.
527



preached in the fields, and attended com—
munions, particularly that at Maybole.
About the beginning of autumn, 1678, he
returned to Utrecht, where he remained
till the day of his death.
When near his departure, his dear ac--
quaintance Sir Robert Hamilton’ being
with him, and signifying to him that he
might be spared as another Caleb to see
the good land when the storm was over;
he said to him among his last words,
“ What is man before the Lord ?—yea,
what is a nation ?—as the drop of a buck-
et or the small dust in the balance; yea,
less than nothing and vanity. But this
much I can say in humility, that through
free grace I have endeavoured to keep the
post that God had assigned me. These
fourteen years I have not desired to lift

the one foot, before God showed me where
to set down the other,”—and so, in a few
minutes he finished his course with joy,
and fell asleep in Jesus, November 14,
1680, leaving his wife and five children, in
a strange land.
It would be superfluous to insist here
upon the character of the thrice renowned
Ker. It is evident to all that he was a
man of a great mind, far above a servile
and mercenary disposition—He was, for a
number of years, hurried from place to
place, and guarded from prison to prison.
~. All this however, he endured with un-
daunted courage—He lost a good estate
for the cause of Christ; and though he
got not the martyr’s crown, yet he be--
;yond all doubt obtained the sufferer’s
l reward.

DONALD CARGILL.

THE precise period of Cargill’s birth is not verse, “ Son of man, eat that thou findest ,
exactly known, but it is supposed to have I eat this roll, and go speak unto the house
been about the year 1610. He was eldest l of Israel,” made a strong impression upon
son of a much respected family in the par- i his mind, so that he durst no longer refuse
ish of Rattray. After he had been some his father’s desire, but dedicated himself
time at school in Aberdeen, he went to wholly to that office.
After this he got a call to the Barony
St Andrews, where, having completed his

course of philosophy, his father pressed him I’
much to study divinity, in order for the‘
ministry; but he, from conscientious mo-
tives, constantly refused, telling his father
that the work of the ministry was too
great a burden for hisweak shoulders.
But his father still continuing to urge
him, he resolved to set apart a day for pri-
vate fasting, to seek the Lord’s mind there-
in. And after much wrestling with the
Lord in prayer, the third chapter of Eze- ;
kiel, and chiefly these words in the first‘,

church of Glasgow. It was so ordered by
divine providence, that the very first text
appointed him by the presbytery was
these words in the third of Ezekiel, already
mentioned, by which he was more con-
firmed‘, that he had God’s call to the min-
isterial work. This parish had been long
vacant, by reason of two ministers of the
Resolution party, viz, Messrs Young and
Blair, having always opposed the settle-
ment of such godly men as had been
called by the people. In reference to Car‘





528
SCOTS WORTHIES.



gill’s call, they were, however, in God’s
providence, much shaken in their former
resolutions. Cargill, perceiving the light
and unconcerned behaviour of the people
under the word, was so much discouraged
that he resolved to return home, and not
accept the call. The ministers solicited
him to stay, but in vain. When his horse
was brought out, however, and he just going
to begin his journey, a certain godly wo-
man said to him, “ Sir, you have promised
to preach on Thursday, and have you ap-
pointed a meal for poor starving people,
and will you go away and not give it? If
you do, the curse of God will go with you.”
This so moved him, that he durst not go
away as he intended; but sitting down,
desired her and others to‘ pray for him.
So he remained and was settled in that
parish, where he continued to exercise his
ministry with great success, until that, by
the unhappy Restoration of Charles II,
prelacy was again restored.
Upon the 29th of May following, the
day consecrated in commemoration of the
said Restoration, Cargill having oc-
casion to preach in his own church—it
being his ordinary week~day preaching,—
an unusual throng of people came to hear
him, imagining that he preached in compli-
ance with the solemnity. They were soon
undeceived, however ; for, in entering the
pulpit he said, “ We are not come here to
keep this day upon the account for which
others keep it. \Ve thought once to have
blessed the day wherein the king came
home again, but now we think we shall
have reason to curse it; and if any of you
have come here in order to solemnize this
‘day, “ we desire you to remove.” And en-
larging upon these words in the 9th of‘
Hosea, “Rejoice not, O Israel,” &c., he
said, “ This is the first step of our depart-
ing from God; and whoever of the Lord’s

people this day are rejoicing, their joy will
he like the crackling of thorns under a pot : 1
it will soon be turned to mourning; he—
meaning the king—will be the most woful
sight that ever the poor Church of Scot-
land saw ;——Wo, wo, wo unto him, his
name shall stink while the world stands,
for treachery, tyranny, and lechery I"
This extremely enraged the malig-
nant party against him, so that he was
obliged to abscond, remaining sometimes
in private houses, and sometimes lying all
night without, yet never neglecting any
proper occasion of private preaching, cate—
chizing, visiting of families, and other min-
isterial duties. The churches being all
vacated of Presbyterians by an act of
council, 1662, Middleton sent a band of
soldiers to apprehend Cargill, who for this
purpose came to the church, but did not
find him, he having providentially just
stepped out of the one door a minute be-
fore they came in at the other; upon which
they took the keys of the church door with
them and departed. In the mean time the
council passed an act of confinement ban-
ishing him to the north side of the Tay,
under penalty of being imprisoned, and
prosecuted as a seditious person,—but
this sentence he disregarded.
In October, 1665, they made a public
search for him in the city; of which re-
ceiving information, he took horse, and rode
out of town. At a narrow pass of the
way, he met a number of soldiers, one
of whom asked him, “ Sir, what o’clock is
it ?” Cargill answered, “ It is six.” An-
other of them knowing his voice, said,
“ That is the man we are seeking.” Upon
hearing this he put spurs to his horse
and escaped.
For about three years he usually resided
in the house of one Margaret Craig, a very
godly woman, where he lectured morning
and evening to such as came to hear him ;
and, though a strict search was still kept
up, through the kindness of Providence he
One
was enabled to avoid discovery.





DONALD CARGlLL.
529


sabbath, going to \Voodside to preach, as i he preached publicly for eighteen sabbath-
he was about to mount his horse, having
one foot in the stirrup, he turned about to
his servant, and said, I must not go yonder
to-'day,--—and in a little a party of the
enemy came in quest of him; but missing
their mark, they fell upon the people, by
apprehending and imprisoning several of
them.
At another time when a search was
made for Cargill in the city, they came to
his chamber, but found him not, he for—
tunately being in another house at the
time. One day when preaching privately
in the house of Mr Callander, they came
and surrounded the doors, but the peo-
ple put him and another into a window,
which they closed up with books. The
search was so strict, that they searched the
very ceiling of the house, until one of them
fell through the lower loft. Had they re-
moved but one of the books, they would
certainly have found him. But the Lord
so ordered that they did it not; for, as one
of the soldiers was about to take up one of
them, the maid cried to the commander that
he was going to take her master’s books,
and he was ordered to let them alone.
Thus narrowly he escaped this danger.
Thus he continued until the 23d of
November, 1667, that the council, upon in-
formation of a breach of his confinement,
cited him to appear before them on the
11th of January thereafter. Being appre-
hended, he was brought before the council
and strictly examined; but by the inter-
position of some persons of rank, however,
his own friends, and his wife’s relations,
he was dismissed. He returned
diately to Glasgow, where he performed all
the ministerial duties in his own church as
imme-
formerly, notwithstanding the diligence of
persecutors in searching for him.
Some time before Bothwell, notwith—
standing the search made for him by the

days, to audiences consisting of several
within little more than a
quarter of a mile of the city of Glasgow ;
yea, so near it, that the psalms, when sing-
ing, were heard through several parts of it ;
and yet all this time uninterrupted.
At Bothwell, being taken by the enemy,
and struck down to the ground with a
thousands,
‘ sword, he saw nothing but present death,
as he had already recelved several danger-
ous wounds in the head. One of the soldiers
asked his name ; he told him it was Donald
Cargill; another asked him if he was a
he answered he was; where-
upon they let him go. When his wounds
were examined, he feared to ask if they
minister ?
were mortal, desiring in submission to
God to live, judging that the Lord had yet
further work for him to accomplish.
Some time after the battle at Bothwell,
he was pursued from his own chamber out
of town, and forced to go through several
thorn hedges; but he was no sooner out
than he saw a troop of dragoons just op-
posite to him. Back he could, not go, sol-
diers being posted everywhere to catch
him; upon which he advanced near to the
troop, who looked at him, and he at them,
until he got past. But, coming to a
place of the water at which he intended to
cross, he saw another troop standing on
the other side. who called to him. Without
making any answer he went about a mile
up the water and escaped, preaching next
sabbath at Langside without any interrup-
tion. At another time, being in a house
beset with soldiers, he went through the
midst of them, they thinking it was the
goodman of the house?‘
Some time after the beginning of the
year 1680, he retired toward the Firth of
It appears that it was about this time that he
went over to Holland, but we have no certain ac’
_ count where or what time he staid there; but from
enemy, which was both strict and frequent, , the sequel, it could not be long.
3x
530
SCOTS WORTHIES.





Forth, where he continued until that lthe trumpet that tle Lord had put in his
scuffle at Queensferry, where worthy
Haugh-head was killed, and Cargill sorely
Wounded.
by a woman in a private place, to the
south of the town, who tied up his wounds
with her head-dress, and conducted him
to the house of one Robert Ponton, in
Carlowrie, where a surgeon dressed them.
Mrs Ponton gave him some warm milk
and he lay in their barn all night. From
thence he went to the south, and preached
at Cairnhill, somewhere adjacent to Lou-
don, in his blood and wounds ; for no dan~
ger could stop him from going about do-
ing good. His text was in Heb. xi. 32.—
“ And what shall I more say, for time
would fail me to tell of Gideon,” 820. At
night, some persons said to him, “We think,
Sir, preaching and praying go best with
you when your danger and distress are
greatest.” He said it had been so, and he
hoped it would be so; the more that ene-
mies and others did thrust at him that he
might fall, the more sensibly the Lord
had helped him; and then—as it had been
to himself—he repeated these words, “ The
Lord is my strength and song, and has be-
come my salvation,”-—i-n the 118th Psalm,
which was the psalm he sung upon the
scaffold.
After this, Cargill and Mr Richard
Cameron met and preached together in
Dermeid-moor, and other places, until
Mr Cameron was slain at Ayr’s-moss; af-
ter which he went north, where, in the
month of September following, he held a
most numerous meeting at the Torwood,
near Stirling, where he pronounced the
sentence of excommunication against some
of the most violent persecutors of that
day, as formally as the state of things
could then permit. Some time before
this, it is said he was very reserved, and
spoke very little in company ;—only to
some he said, he had a blast to give with 1
But, escaping, he was found‘

hand, that would sound in the ears of
many in Britain, and other places in Eu»
rope also. It is said* that no person knew
what he was to do that morning, except
Mr ‘Walter Smith, to whom he imparted
the thoughts of his heart. When he be-
gan, some friends feared he would be shot.
His landlord, in whose house he had been
that night, cast his coat and ran for it. In
the forenoon, he lectured on Ezek. xxi. 25,
&c., and preached on 1 Cor. v. 13, and, hav-
ing discoursed some time on the nature
of excommunication, he proceeded to the
sentence ; after which, in the afternoon, he.
preached from Lam. iii. 31, 32.-—~“ For the
Lord will not cast off for ever,” &c. '
The next Lord’s day, he preached at
F allow-hill, in the parish of Livingstone.
In the outset he said, “ I know I am and
will be condemned by many for excom-
municating those wicked men, but condemn
me who will, I know I am approved of by
God, and am persuaded that what I have
done on earth is ratified in heaven; for, if
ever I knew the mind of God, and was
clear in my call to any piece of my gener-
ation-work, it was that. And I shall give
you two signs, that ye may know I am in
no delusion. 1-—If some of these men do
not find that sentence binding upon them,
ere they go off the stage, and be obliged
to confess it, &c. 2-—If these men die the
ordinary death of men, then God hath not
spoken by met.” _
About the 22d of October following, a
long and severe proclamation was issued
out against him and his followers, where-
in a reward of 5000 merks was offered for
* Sec VV-alker’s Remarkable Passages of the Life
of Cargill, &c. p. 8.
j‘ The first of these was clearly verified in the
case of Lord Rothes, and the second was verified,
in the remembrance of some yet alive. Every per-
son knows that Charles II. was poisoned. His
brother, the duke of York, died at St Germain’s in
France. The duke of Monmouth was executed at


DONALD
CARGILL.


apprehending him.——Next month, gov-
ernor Middleton, having been frustrated
in his design upon Cargill at Queensferry,
laid another plot for him, by consulting
one James Henderson there, who, by
forging and signing letters, in the name of
Bailie Adam in Culross, and some other
serious christians in Fife, for Cargill to
come over and preach to them at the Hill
of Beith. Accordingly, Henderson went
to Edinburgh with the letters, and, after
a most diligent search, found him in
the West Bow. Cargill being willing to
obey the call, Henderson proposed to go
before, and have a boat ready at Queensferry
when they came; and, that he might know
them, he desired to see Cargill’s cloth, Mr
Skeen and Mr Boig being in the same
room. In the mean time he had Middle-
ton’s soldiers lying at Muttonhole, a»
bout three miles fi’om Edinburgh. Mr
Skeen, Archibald Stuart, Mrs Muir, and
Marion Harvey, took the way before, on
foot,——Cargill and Mr Boig being to fol-
low on horseback. As soon as the former
came up the soldiers spied them ; but Mrs
Muir, suspecting treachery, returned and
stopped Cargill and Mr Boig, who fled
back to Edinburgh.
After this remarkable escape, Cargill,
seeing nothing but the violent flames of
treachery against him, retired for about
three months to England, where the Lord
blessed his labours to the conviction and
edification of many. In the time of his
absence that delusion of the Gibbites arose,
from one .Iohn Gib,‘sailor in Borrowstoun-
ness, who, with other three men, and twen-
ty-six women, invented and maintained the
most strange delusions. Some time after,
Cargill returned from England, and was
London. The duke of York died raving under
the dreadful terror of that sentence. Bloody
Sir George M‘Kenzie died at London, all the
passages of his body running blood. General Dal-
ziel died with a glass of wine at his mouth. in per-
feet health. Sec \Valker’s Remarks, p. 10.
at no small pains to reclaim them, but
with little success. After his last confer-
ence with them’‘, at Darngavel, in Cam-
busnethan parish, he came next sabbath,
and preached at Kirkfieldbank wood, be-
low Lanark; and from thence to Loudon-
hill, where he preached upon a fast-day, be-
ing the 5th of May. Here he intended
only to have preached once, and to have
baptized some children. His text was
—“ No man that hath followed me in
the regeneration,” &c. When sermon was
over, and the children baptized, more chil-
dren came up ; upon which his friends press-
ed him to preach in the afternoon, which he
did, from these words,-—“ Weep not for
me,” 820. In the mean while the enemy at
Glasgow getting notice of this meeting,
seized all the horses in and about the town,
that they could obtain, and mounted in
quest of him; and such was their haste
and fury, that one of the soldiers, who
happened to be behind the rest, riding fu-
riously down the street called the Stock-
well, at mid-day, rode over a female child
and killed her on the spot. Just as Cargill
was praying at the close, a lad alarmed
them of the enemy’s approach. They
having no sentinels that day, contrary to
their usual custom, were thrown into sud-
den surprise; and, with the confusionCargill
was running straight on the enemy when
Gavin \Votherspoon and others haled him
to the Moss, to which the people had all
fled. The dra goons fired hard upon them ;
but there were none either killed or taken
that day
About this time, some spoke to Cargill
of his short sermons and prayers. They
‘1'? About this time the Gibbites were all taken
and imprisoned in the tolbooth and correction-house
of Edinburgh, but by the duke of York, and his
faction, were soon liberated; after which, four
men and two women went west to the Frost-moss,
betwixt. Airth and Stirling. where they burnt the
Holy Bible, every one of them using expressions at
' that horrid action which are fearful to utter.


532
SCOTS WORTHIES.




said, “O Sir, it is long betwixt meals, and
we are in a starving condition; all is good,
sweet, and wholesome that you deliver, but:
' Hills, from which place he hastened back to
why do you so straiten us?” He said, “Ever
since I bowed a knee in good earnest to pray, I
never durst preach, and pray with my gifts; and
when my heart is not affected, and comes not up
with my mouth,I always think it time to quit it.
What comes not from the heart, I have little
hope it will go to the hearts of others.” 'Then
he repeated these words in the 51st Psalm,—
“ Then I will teach transgressors thy way, &c.”
From Loudon-hill he took a tour through
Ayrshire to Carriek and Galloway, preaching,
baptizing, and marrying some people; but
stayed not long until he returned to Clydes-
dale, He designed, after his return, to have
preached one day at Tinto-hill, but the lady
of St. John’s Kirk circulated a report that
it was to be at Home common. Being in
the house of John Liddel, near Tinto, he
went out to spend the Sabbath morning by
himself; and seeing the people passing by,
he inquired the reason; and being told, he
rose and followed them for the space of five
miles. Here he lectured‘ on the 6th of Isaiah,
and preached on these words, “ Be not high
minded, but fear,” &c. This occurred in the
heat of summer, and many people were
assembled before his arrival, so he had just
time to take the only refreshment he had got
that day—a drink of water from a stream,
handed to him in an old man’s blue bonnet.
Thus simply refreshed, he preached all day,
and in the course of his sermon gave a most
weary look to Tinto Hill, crying, “ He feared
many places of Scotland would yet be as
waste as that dreary hill.”
The next Sabbath he preached at the
Henry bridge betwixt Clydesdale and West
Lothian, and either in the parish of Carnwath
or that of WVest Calder. There he lectured
from Zechariah, chapter iii., on Joshua stand-
in g before the angel; and preached from Psalm
xlv. 3, “ Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O
“thou most Mighty, with thy glory and thy‘
7 majesty.”

From the Benry-bridge he went
to Fife, and baptized many children, and
preached only one Sabbath at the Lomond
Clydesdale, and came to the Benty-ridge* in
Cambusnethan, where were two friends sent
from the societies in Galloway, to call him
back there to baptize. The next Sabbath
after he went from the foresaid Benty-ridge,
he preached at Auchingilloch. He then re-
turned to preach his last sermon on Dunsyre
common, between Clydesdale and Lothian,
upon that text, Is. xxvi. 20.—“ Come, my
people, enter thou into thy chambers, and
shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself as it
were for a little moment, until the indignation
he overpast."
Some time that night, through the persua-
sion of Mr Smith and Mr Boig, he went with
the lady of St John’s Kirk, as far as Coving-
ton-mill, to the house of one Andrew Fisher.
In the mean time, James Irvine of Bonshaw,
having got a general commission, marched
with a party of dragoons from Kilbride, and
next morning by sunrise, came to St John’s
Kirk, when, after searching it, he proceeded
for a similar purpose to the house of one
Thomson, and then came to Covington-mill,
and there apprehended Cargill along with
Mr Smith and Mr Boig. Having found
them, the ruffian exclaimed. “ O blessed Bon-
sha'w ! and blessed day that ever I was born !
* We are indebted to the attention of a gentleman in the
parish of Cambusnethan, for enabling us to correct a topo-
graphical error, which has been hitherto allowed to pass in
all former editions of the SCOTS W0n'iH1Es,—but for the
satisfaction of the reader, we shall quote his own words :—
“ It is perfectly manifest that Mr Howie of Lochgoin, in
abridging from Walker, and not knowing this district, very
naturally supposed that Benry-bm'g and Benty-rz'y, or
Bem'y-dridye and Benty-ridye, were the same place, and
so confounded them in the SCOTS WORTHIES. Thus the
visit of Cargill to the real Benry-bridgc is'omitted, while
that to Cambusneth an, is correctly given, excepting that the
place has got the borrowed and foreign name. The people
in Cambusnethan. who have taken an interest in that book
for half a century, have never been able to discover where
the Benry-brig of Cambusnethan was. By this correction,
however, their curiosity will now be gratified, as the place
is famiharly known to all the parishioners—En.





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DONALD CARGILL.





You will not long escape the just judg-
ment of God; and, if I be not mistaken, it
will seize you in this very place :” which
accordingly next year came to pass; for,
having got this price of blood, one of his
comrades, in a rage, ran him through with
a sword at Lanark; and his last words
were, “ G—d d n my soul eternally, for
that has found such a prize I a prize of5000
merks for apprehending Cargill this morn-
ing 3” They marched speedily to Lanark,
where they were put in jail, until they got
some refreshment, and then bringing them
out. in haste, procured horses and set the
prisoners on their bare backs. Bonshaw
tied Cargill's feet below the horse’s belly.I


with his own hands, so very cruelly that I am gone l”--“ Mischief shall hunt the
Cargill looking down, said, “ Why do you violent man.”
a
tie me so hard, your wickedness is great , They came to Glasgow in haste, fearing
j ,_ 7
».,_.~-


I ‘I...’ . _ '~_.- _
" AI’} , w» - 7 _ _ ;A‘ v 5‘ ' w _, _- gov. _ v- ‘
a _ .- , ,. _ - a,‘ I _,_ ‘W‘ __:._> - -,. _.
A '\' »-_ - _;\ ~::‘v- /-~’—"“ "W Isa/{'24 A _‘__ ,v .n__,_. :]\< \ §‘,‘ 4_ 1, 7")‘ /
- . -. fie _, haw/s.” W e, V d4 f’.‘ - /- i an we» we‘. " M "'
{Glasgow Irom the South. in 1660.]
and, while wait- j denly ill, and for three days his tongue
the magistrates , swelled; and, though he was most earnest
i to speak, yet he could not command one
word, and died in great torment, and
a rescue of the prisoners ;
ing at the tolbooth till
came to receive them, one John Nisbet,
the arehbishop’s factor, said to Cargill in 1
ridicule, three times over, “ Will you give
us one word more ?”—-alluding to an ex-!
seeming terror.
From Glasgow they were taken to Edin-
pression Cargill used sometimes when j burgh, and, upon the 15th of July, they
' were brought before the council. Chan-
cellor Rothes--being one of those whom
he excommunicated at Torwood raged
against him, threatening him with torture
and a violent death, to whom he said,
“ My lord- Rothes, forbear to threaten me
preaching ;—to whom Cargill said with
regret, “Mock not, lest your hands he
The day is coming, when

made strong!
you shall not have one word to though
you would.” This also came quickly to
pass; for, not many days after, he fell sud-



534
SCOTS WORTHIES.



for, die what death I will, your eyes shall
not see it ;” which accordingly came to
pass, for he died the morning of the same
day on which Cargill was executed.
\Vhen before the council, he was asked
“ if he acknowledged the king’s authority,”
to which he replied “that he denied the
magistrate’s authority as now established
by act of parliament, and explanatory act.”
Being also examined anent the excommu-
nication at Torwood,he declined to answer,
as being an ecclesiastical matter, and they
a civil judicatory. He owned the lawful-
ness of defensive arms, in cases of neces-
sity, and denied that those who rose at
Bothwell, &c., were rebels; and, being in-
terrogated anent the Sanquhar Declaration,
he declined to give his judgment until he had
more time to consider the contents thereof.
He further declared he could not express
his sentiments in reference to the killing
of the bishop; but that the Scriptures say,
upon the Lord’s giving a call to a private
man to kill, he might do it lawfully; and
gave the instances of Jae] and Phinehas.
.These were the most material points on
which he was examined.”
While he was in prison, a gentlewoman
who visited him, told him, weeping, “ That
these Heaven-daring enemies were contriv-
ing a most violent death for him; some, a
barrel with pikes to roll him in ; others an
iron-chair, red—hot, to roll him in,” &c; but
he said, “ Let you nor none of the Lord’s
people be troubled for these things, for all
that they will get liberty to do to me, will
be to knit me up, cut me down, and chop
off my old head, and then fare them well;
they have done with me, and I with them
for ever.”
Cargill was again brought before the
council on the 19th, but refused to an-
swer their questions, except anent the ex-
communication. There was some motion
* See his examination, &c. at large in Wodrow’s
Hist. Vol. ii. p. 184.



made to spare him, as he was an old man,
and send him prisoner to the Bass during
life; which motion being put to a vote, was,
by the casting vote of the Earl of Rothes,
rejected, who doomed him to the gallows,
there to die like a traitor
Upon the 26th he was brought before
the justiciary, and indicted in cunmon
form. His confession being produced
in evidence against him, he was brought
in guilty of high treason, and condemned,
with the rest, to be hanged at the cross of
Edinburgh, and his head placed on the
Nether Bow. When they came to these
words in his indictment, viz., “having cast
off all fear of God, &c.,” he caused the
clerk to stop, and, pointing to the advocate
Sir George M‘Kenzie, said, “The man
that hath caused that paper to be draw].
up, hath done it contrary to the light of
his own conscience, for he knoweth that I
have been a fearer of God from mine in-
fancy; but that man, I say, who took the
Holy Bible in his hand, and said, It would
never be well with the land, until that
book be destroyed, &c., I say, he is the
man that hath cast off all fear of God.”
The advocate stormed at this, but could not
deny the truth thereof.
“Then he got his sentence announced
by sound of trumpet, he said, “ That is a
weary sound; but the sound of the last
trumpet will be a joyful sound to me, and
all that will be found having on Christ’s
righteousness.”
Being come to the scaffold, he stood
with his back to the ladder, and desired
the attention of the numerous spectators;
and, after singing from the 16th verse ‘of
the 118th psalm, he began to speak to
three sorts of people ; but, being interrupted
by the drum, he said with a smiling coun
tenance, “Ye see we have no liberty to
speak what we would, but God knoweth our
hearts.” As he proceeded, he was again
interrupted. Then, after a little pause


DONALD
CARGILL. 535






_.__--
w‘
or silence, he began to exhort the people,
‘and to show his own comfort in laying
down his life, in the assurance of a blessed
eternity, expressing himself in these Words :
——“ Now, 'I am as sure of my interest in
Christ, and peace with God, as all within
this Bible and the Spirit of God can make
me; and I am fully persuaded, that this is
the very way for which I suffer, and that
he will return gloriously to Scotland; but
it will be terrifying to many; therefore,
Ientreat you, be not discouraged at the
way of Christ and the cause for which I
am to lay down my life, and step into eter-
nity, where my soul shall be as full of him
as it can desire to be ; and now this is the
sweetest and most glorious day that ever
mine eyes did see. Enemies are now en-
raged against the way and people of God,
but ere long they shall be enraged one
against another, to their own confusion.”
Here the drums did beat a third time.
Then setting his foot on the ladder, he
said, “ The Lord knows I go on this lad-
der with less fear, and perturbation of
mind, than ever I entered the pulpit to
preach.”--\Vhen up, he sat down, and
said :-—“ Now I am near the getting of the
crown, which shall be sure, for which I
bless the Lord, and desire all of you to
bless him, that he hath brought me here
and made me triumph over devils, men,
and sin. They shall wound me no more.
[forgive all men the wrongs they have
done to me; and I pray the sufferers may
be kept from sin, and helped to know their
duty.” Then havingprayed a little within
himself, he lifted up the napkin, and said,
“ Farewell all and friends in
Christ; farewell acquaintances and earthly
enjoyments ; farewell reading and preach-
relations
ing, praying and believing, wanderings, re~ proach, and sufferings! \Velcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; into thy hands I1
commit my Spirit! Then he prayed a little, ‘
and the executioner turned him over as he _
was praying. Thus he finished his course,
and the ministry that he had received of
the Lord.
Take his character from Sir Robert
Hamilton of Preston, who was his contem-
porary. He was affectionate, affable, and
tender-hearted, to all such as he thought
had anything of the image of God in
them; sober and temperate in his diet,
saying commonly, “ It was well won that
was won off the flesh”; generous, liberal,
and most charitable to the poor; a great
hater of covetousness ; a frequent visitor of
the sick; much alone, loving to be retired;
but when about his Master’s public work,
laying hold on every opportunity to edify;
in conversation, still dropping what might
minister grace to the hearers; his counte-
nance was edifying to beholders; often sigh-
ing with deep groans ; preaching in season
and out of season, upon all hazards; ever
the same in udgment and practice. From
his youth he was much given to the duty
of secret prayer for whole nights together;
wherein it was observed, that, both in se-
cret and in families, he always sat straight
upon his knees, with his hands lifted up;
and in this posture—as some took notice—
he died with the rope about his neck.
Besides his last speech and testimony,
and several other religious letters, with the
lecture, sermon, and sentence of excom—
munication at Torwood, which are all pub’
lished, there are also several other sermons
and notes of sermons, interspersed among
some people’s hands, in print and manu-
script, some of which have been published.
Yet if we may believe \Valker in his “Re-
markable Passages,” who heard several of
them preached, they are, however pa—
thetic, far inferior to what they would have
been, had they been corrected by the au-
thor himself.


536
SCOTS WORTHIES.







TESTIMONY
OF
DONALD CARGILL.
“ THIS is the most joyful day that ever
I saw in my pilgrimage on earth, my joy is
now begun, which I see shall never be in-
terrupted. I see both my interest, and
His truth, and the sureness of the one,
and the preciousness of the other. It is
near thirty years since He made it sure;
and since that time—though there has
fallen out much sin—~yet I was never out
of an assurance of my interest, nor long
out of sight of his presence. He has
dandled me, and kept me lively, and never
left me behind, thougl'i I was oft-times
O He has showed the
wonderful preciousness of his grace, not
only in the first receiving thereof, but in
renewed and multiplied pardons! I have
been a man of great sins; but he has been
a God of great mercies. And now,
through his mercies, I have a conscience as
sound and quiet, as if I had never sinned.
It is long since I could have adventured
on eternity, through God’s mercy and
Christ’s merits ; yet death remained some-
what terrible, but that is now taken away;
and now death is no more to me but to
cast myself into my husband’s arms, and
to lie down with him. And however it be
with me at the last, though I should be
straitened by God or interrupted by men,
yet all is sure, and shall be well. I have
followed holiness; I have taught truth; and
turning back.
I have been most in the main things; not ,
that I thought the things concerning our
times little, but that I thought none could
do anything to purpose in God’s great and
public matters, till they were right in their
conditions. And O that all had taken this
method; for then there had been fewer
apostasies.
The religion of the land, and l
l zeal for the land’s engagements, are com.
! ing to nothing but a supine, loathsome,
' and hateiul formality : and there cannot be
zeal, liveliness and rightness, where people
meet with persecution, and want heart-re
novation. My soul trembles to think how
little regeneration there is amongst the
ministers and professors of Scotland. O
the ministers of Scotland—how they have
betrayed Christ’s interest, and beguiled
souls! ‘ They have not entered in them-
selves, and them that were entering in
they hindered.’ They have sold the things
of Christ and the liberties of his church,
for a short and cursed quiet to themselves,
which is now near an end; and they are
more one, and at peace with God’s enemies,
after they have done all their mischiefs.
than they were at first, when they had put
hand to them. And I much fear that
though there were not one minister on
the earth, He would make no more use of
them ; but there will be a dreadful judg-
ment upon themselves, and a long curse
upon their posterity.
“ As to our professors, my counsel tt
them is, that they would see well to their
own regeneration, for the most part of
them have that yet to do ; and yet let never
one think that he is in the right exercise
of true religion, that has not a zeal for God’s
public glory. There is a small remnant in
Scotland that my soul has had its greatest
comfort on earth from. I wish your in-
crease in holiness, number, love, religion.
and righteousness; and, wait you, and cease
to contend with these men that are gone
from us, for there is nothing that shall
convince them but judgment. Satisfy
your consciences and go forward; for
the nearer you are to God, and the further
from all others, whether stated enemies or
lukewarm ministers and professors, it shall
be the better. My preaching has occasioned
persecution, but the want of it will, I fear,
occasion worse. However, Ihave preached

l
WALTER SMITH. ' 537



the truths of God to others, as it is
I . . - .
mam 1s, ‘hot acknowledging the present
written, ‘ I believed, and so I preached ;’ l
and I have not an ill conscience in preach-
ing truth, whatever has followed. This
day I am to seal with my blood all the
truths that ever Ipreached; and what is
controverted of that which I have been pro-
fessing, shall ere long be manifested by
God’s judgments in the consciences of men.
I had a sweet calmness of spirit, and great
submission as to my taking, the providence
of God was so eminent in it; and I could
not but think that God judged it neces-
sary for his glory to bring me to such
an end, seeing he loosed me from such a
work.. My soul would be exceedingly
troubled anent the remnant, were it not
that I think be short.
W herefore hold fast; for this is the way
that is now persecuted.
“ As to the causes of my suffering, the
the time will

authority, as it is established in the su-
premacy and explanatory act.’ This is the
magistracy that I have rejected, that was
invested with Christ’s power. And seeing
that power taken from Christ, which is his
glory, and made the essential of the crown,
I thought this was. as if I had seen one
wearing my husband’s garments after he
had killed him. And seeing it is made
the essential of the crown, there is no dis-
tinction we can make that can free the
conscience of the acknowledger from be-
ing a partaker of this sacrilegious robbing
of God, and it is but to cheat our conscien-
ces to acknowledge the civil power; for it is
not civil power only that is made of the
essence of the crown ; and seeing they are
so express, we ought to be plain ; for other-
wise, it is to deny our testimony, and con-
sent to this robbery.”

WALTER SMITH.

LITTLE more is known of the early his-
tory of this eminent scholar and christian,
than that he was son of Walter‘ Smith in
the parish of St Ninian’s, in Stirlingshire.
Going over to Holland early in life, he
studied some time under the famous Leus-
den, who had a great esteem and value for
him, as being one both of high attainments
and great experience in the serious exer-
cise and solid practice of Christianity.
In 1679, we find that he made no mean
figure among that little handful of the
Lord’s suffering remnant who rose in their
own defence at Bothwell Bridge. He was
both chosen clerk to the council of war,
and also a commanding-officer among the
Covenanters ; and had the honour not on-


ly to witness and protest against the sinful
compliance of that corrupt Erastian party
that then foisted themselves in amongst
them ; but was also one of those three who
were then appointed to draw up the “ Causes
of the Lord’s Wrath” against the land, of
which the “ Hamilton Declaration” was to
form the last cause, together, with a new
Declaration which they intended to have
published at that time; but although both
of these were undertaken, yet they were
never published?‘
After the overthrow and dispersion of
the Covenanters at Bothwell, in which the
Erastian party among them had no little
' See a more full account of this in Vt'ilson's Re-
lation of Bothwell Bridge, p. 13.
n
oY
538
SCOTS WORTHIES.



hand, it appears that Smith went over
for some time to Holland, where his stay
seems to have been short ; for we find him
again with Mr Cargill at Torwood, in Sep-
tember, 1680.
He had a longing desire to preach
Christ and him crucified, and sal-
vation through his name. hIr Cargill
had the same desire ; and for that end, it
is said, had written to two ministers to
meet him at Cummerhead in Lesmahagow
in Clydesdale; but ere that day came, the
door was closed,——for they were in the ene-
my’s hands. However, Smith followed
the example of our blessed Lord and Sa-
viour, in going about doing good, in many
places, and to many persons, in spiritual
edifying conversation, and was a singular
example of true piety and zeal; which had
more influence upon many than most part
of the ministers of that day.
A little before his death, he drew up
twenty-two rules for fellowship or society
meetings, which at that time greatly in-
creased from the river Tay to Newcastle,
and which afterwards settled into a gen-
eral and quarterly correspondence, that so
they might speak one with another when
they wanted the public preaching of the
gospel, and appoint general fasting-days
through the whole community, wherein
their own sins, and the prevailing sins and
defections of the times were confessed,—
each society to meet and spend some time
of the Lord’s day together, when deprived
of the public ordinances.”
But he was now nigh the evening of
both his life and his labours; for having
been with Mr Cargill when he preached
his last sermon in Dunsyre Common, be-
twixt Clydesdale and Lothian, he was
next morning apprehended at Covington-
* The reader will find an account of these their
transactions in their own register, now published
of late, under the title of Faithful Contendings
Displayed.



Mill by wicked Bonshaw, who had former-
ly traded in fine horses betwixt the two
kingdoms. He was, with the rest of the
prisoners, carried from Lanark to Glasgow,
and from thence to Edinburgh, where
upon the 14th of July, he was brought be-
fore the council and asked, If he owned
the king. and his - authority as lawful?
He answered:—-"' I cannot acknowledge the
present authority the king is now invested
with, and the exercise thereof, being now
clothed with a supremacy over the church.”
Being interrogated if the king’s falling
from the Covenant looses him from his
obedience, and if the king thereby loses his
authority ?—he answered, “ I think he is
obliged to perform all the duties of the
Covenant, conform to the word of God;
the king is only to be obeyed in terms of
the Covenant.” Being further interrogated
anent the Torwood excommunication, he
declared, “he thought their reasons were
just.”
On the 19th, he was again brought before
them, and interrogated if he owned the
Sanquhar Declaration? It was then read
to him, and he owned the same in all its
articles, except that he looked not upon
these persons as the formal representatives
of the Presbyterian church, as they called
themselves. And as to that expression,
“ The king should have been denuded many
years ago,” he did not like the word denuded,
but said, “ What the king has done
justifies the people’s revolting against him.”
As to these words where the king is called
an usurper and a tyrant, he said, “Certainly
the king is an usurper!” and wished he was
not a tyrant.
Upon the 26th, he was with the rest
brought before the .Iusticiary, where, being
indicted in common form, their confessions
were produced as evidences against them,
and they were all brought in guilty of high
treason, and condemned to be hanged at
the cross of Edinburgh, upon the 27th, and




WALTER SMITH.
.5159




their heads severed from their bodies;
those of .Messrs Cargill, Smith, and Boig,
to be placed on the Nether Bow, and the
heads of the others on the West Port—all
which was done accordingly.
After Cargill was executed, Smith was
brought upon the scaffold, where he adhered
to the very same cause with Mr Cargill,
ieclared the same usurpation of Christ’s
crown and dignity, and died with great as-
surance of his interest in Christ, declaring
his abhorrence of popery, prelacy, erastian-
ism, and all other steps of defection. He
went up the ladder with all signs of cheer-
fulness, and when the executioner was
about to untie his eravat, he would not
suffer him, but untied it himself; and, call-
ing to his brother, he threw it down, saying,
“ This is the last token you shall get from
me !” After the napkin was drawn over
his face, he uncovered it again, and said,
“ I have one word more to say,” and that
is, “ to all who have any love to God and
his righteous cause, that they would set
time apart, and sing a song of praise to the
Lord; for what he has done for my soul—-
and my soul saith, To him be praise!”
Then the napkin being let down, he was
turned over praying, and died in the Lord,
with his face resting upon Mr Cargill’s
breast. These two cleaved to one another
in love and unity in their life ; and, between
them, in their death, there was no dispar-
ity :—“ Saul and Jonathan were lovely and
pleasant in their lives, and in their death
they were not divided.”
The now glorified \Valter Smith was a
man no less learned than pious, faithful,
and religious. His old master, the profes-
sor of divinity at Utrecht in Holland, when
he heard of his public, violent and bloody
death of martyrdom, gave him this testi-
mony; and, weeping, said in broken English,
“ O Smith! the great, brave Smith! who
exceeded all that I ever taught. He was
capable to teach many, but few to instruct

him.” Besides some letters, and the fore-
mentioned twenty-two rules for fellowship-
meetings, he wrote also twenty steps of
national defection, all of which are now pub-
lished ; and if these, with his last testimony,
be rightly considered, it will appear that
his writings were inferior to few of the
contendings of that time.
TESTIMONY
OF
WALTER SMITH.
“DEAR friends and acqua.intances,—As
I desire, while in the body, to sympathize
somewhat with you in lamenting your va-
rious cases, and the ease of the church
whereof we are the sons and daughters;
so I must lay this request upon you, and
leave it with you, that ye take some of your
time and set it apart particularly, to solace
your souls in blessing and magnifying your
God and my God, for the lot he hath de-
creed and chosen out for poor unworthy
me, from eternity, in time, and to eternity;
in the immediate enjoyment of Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, one God, incompre-
hensible and unchangeable in his being,
wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness
and truth; and that, because he hath made
me a man and a Christian. And now I
set to my seal to all his truths, revealed in
his word; and particularly these ; 1. That
he is one God, Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost. But alas! who can think of him,
who can hear of him, or speak ‘of him
aright? O he is God! he is God ! 2. That
he made man perfect; and though we have
destroyed and incapacitated ourselves to do
anything that is right, while out of Christ,
-—yet we are under the obligation of the
whole law, which is the perfect rule of
3. That my Lori—yea
righteousness.
L
540
SCOTS W ORTHIES.



through free grace, I can say, my Lord
Jesus Christ—came to the world to save
sinners; and though I cannot say that I
have been the greatest of sinners, yet I can
say that he hath covered, pardoned, prevent-
ed and hid from the world, sins in me that
have been heinous by many aggravations.
Ll. That ‘except a man be born again, he
cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.’
My friends, this is the new birth, this is re-
generation that I am speaking of, to which
the great part, even of professors, I fear,
will be found strangers. 5. I set to my
seal to the truth of that precious promise,
Josh. i. 5, repeated Heb. xiii. 5,—-‘ For he
hath said, I will never leave thee nor for-
sake thee’ ; together with all the other pro-
mises to that purpose; and I am sure he
hath carried me through divers conditions
of life, many various and singular diflicul-
ties and damping discouragements. But
omitting these things whereof the profane
persecutors may as much boast—as to the
outward—as any, He hath led me through
the several steps of soul exercise, and the
pangs of the new birth, unto himself. This,
this, my friends, is the cognizance and dis-
tinguishing character of a saint indeed ; and
by this, and this only, ‘ we pass from death
to life.’
“ And as I adhere to the Confession of
Faith and work of Reformation—as I shall
afterwards speak to—so particularly, I set
to my seal to these truths in the eighteenth
chapter thereof, anent the assurance of
grace and salvation. Alas ! the ignorance
of this generation is great l My dear friends,
I leave this as my last advice to you ;make
use of that book which contains the Con-
fession of Faith, Catechisms, Sum of Sav-
ing Knowledge, Practical Use of Saving
Knowledge, Directory for W'orship, the
Causes of God’s Wlrath, &c. And let none
think this work below them ; for, the spirit-
ual enlightening of the mind, which requires
the literal with it. is the first work of the

Spirit, after we first begin to come to our-
selves, or rather to what we were in inno-
cency, and ought to be by grace. But as
to this, I do confidently refer you to Shep-
pard’s Sound Believer; which, in my poor
apprehension, is the surest ye can meet
with. 6. I set to my seal to the covenant
of grace, particularly that clause of it, Isa.
lix. 21. ‘ As for me, this is my covenant
with them, saith the Lord, My spirit that
is upon thee, and my words which I have
put in thy mouth, shall not ‘depart out of
thy mouth, nor out of the mouth of thy
seed, nor out of the mouth of thy seed’s
seed, saith the Lord, from henceforth and
for ever.’ And here I leave my testimony
against all atheists, speculative—if there be
any such—and practical ; and all mockers
of godliness, all formalists and hypocrites,
Quakers and enthusiasts, who either pre-
tend to the Spirit, neglecting the word or
lean upon the word, neglecting the teaching
of the Spirit. And what shall I more say,
but by what of truth I have in experience
seen, I am hold to believe what I have not
seen; His testimony is ground sufficient,
and there can be no deceit under it.
“ And now I am to die a martyr; and I
am as fully persuaded of my interest in
Christ, and that he hath countenanced me
in that for which I am to lay down my
life, as I am of my being. And let the
world and biassed professors say their plea-
sure, I am here in no delusion ; I have the
free and full exercise of reason and judg-
ment; I am free from passion and prejudice,
and, excepting that I am yet in the body,
free of Satan’s fire and fury; I have no
bitterness nor malice at any living; so that
what I am owning and dying for, I am
solidly and firmly persuaded to be truth
and duty, according to my mean capacity.
And this is the main point, this day, in
controversy, upon which Iwas peremptorily
questioned, and desired positively toanswer
yea, or nay under the threatening of the



‘.VALTER SMITH.
541



boots, viz., Whether I owned the king’s
authority as presently- established and
exercised? This Idid positively disown,
and denied allegiance to him, as he is
invested with the supremacy proper to
Jesus Christ only. And who knoweth
not, that at first he was constituted and
crowned a covenanted king, and the sub-
jects sworn in allegiance to him, as such, by
the Solemn League and Covenant? This
was the authority wherewith he was clothed,
and the exercise of it was to be for God,
religion, and the good of the subjects ; and
151101; all this as to God and his people,
overturned and perverted ? But, the whole
of this pleaded-for authority at present, is
established on the ruin of the land’s en-
gagements to God, and to one another.
But I say no more as to this,——Consider
things seriously, and ponder them deeply;
zeal for God is much gone ; look to it, and
labour to recover it; your peace shall be
in it, as to duty; though Christ’s right-
eousncss, I see, is the only sure founda-
tion.
“‘ I leave my testimony against malig-
nancy, ungodliness, and profanity, and
whatsoever is contrary to sound doctrine,
—-professed and owned by the Reformed
anti-erastian Presbyterian party in Scot-
land ; whereof I die a member and profes-
sor ;—being fully satisfied and content with
my lot. And as to my apprehending, we
were singularly delivered by Providence in-
to the adversaries’ hand. From what I
could learn, we were betrayed by none;
nor were any accessory to our taking, more
than we were ourselves; and particularly,
let none blame the lady of St J ohn’s- Kirk
in this. I have no time to give you an ac-
count of the Lord’s kindness and tenderness

to us, in restraining the adversaries’ fury;
for they began very brisk, by making us lie
all night bound, and expressly refused to
suffer us to worship God, or pray with one
another, until we came to Linlithgow. But
the Lord hasteneth to come; beware of
going back, wait for him, be not anxious
about what shall become of you, or the
remnant; He is concerned, his intercession
is sufficient; get him set up and kept up in
his room in your souls, and other things
will be the more easily kept in theirs. Be
tender of all who have the root of the mat-
ter; but beware of compliance with any
whether ministers or professors, or adver-
saries. As to my judgment, insignificant
as it is, I am necessitated to refer you to
the draught of a paper, which I drew at the
desire of some societies in Clydesdale, en-
titled, ‘ Some Steps of Defection,’ &c. Be-
ware of a spirit of bitterness, peremptoriness,
and ignorant zeal, which hath been the
ruin of some, and will be the ruin of more,
if mercy prevent not. I was withdrawn
from by some,—as having given offence to
them by my protesting against their way in
particular, wherein I am sure,——as to the
manner,—they were wrong; and though
they had been right, it was not a ground to
have made such a separation from me,
much less fiiom those who joined with me;
and if any division be longer kept up upon
that account, they will find it a great ini-
quity, if rightly considered. I can get no
more written, nor see I great need for it;
for the testimonies of martyrs are not your
rule—Farewell.
Sic sub—WALTER SMITH."
“ From the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, 1
July 27th, 1681.” I



U!
14;
L0
SCOTS WORTHIES.


ROBERT GARNOCK.

ROBERT GARNOCK was born in Stirling,
and baptized by the faithful Mr James
Guthrie. In his younger years, his parents
took much pains to train him up in the way
of duty; but soon after the Restoration, the
faithful ministers being turned out, curates
were put in their places, and with them
came ignorance, profanity, and persecution.
Some time after this, Mr Law preached at
his own house in Monteith, and one Mr
Hutchison sometimes at Kippen. Having
one Saturday evening gone out to his
grandmother’s house in the country, along
with an uncle to a place called Shield-brae,
and next Sabbath he accompanied him
with great difficulty, being then but young,
through frost and snow, and heard Mr
Law at Monteith preach a sermon, which,
through the divine blessing, had a consider-
able influence upon his mind—Thus he
continued for a considerable time, to go
out in the end of the week to hear the
gospel, returning .in the beginning of next ,
week to Stirling; all this while, however,
he did not let his parents know anything
of the matter.
On one occasion, hearing a proclamation
read at the cross, which announced that
all who did not hear, or receive privileges
from the curates, were to be severely
punished, his mind was much troubled, and
he hesitated whether or not he should go
to a field-preaching that he heard was to
be next sabbath. But at last, however, he
came to this resolution; saying that, the
Lord inclined his heart to go, suggesting
the followingwords: “Go for once, go for all,
if they take thee for that which is to come.
So I went there,” continues he, “ and the

Lord did me good: for I got at that ser-
mon, that which although they had rent me
in a thousand pieces, I would not have said
what I had said before. So the Lord made
me follow after the gospel for a long time ;
and though I knew little then what I meant,
yet he put it in my heart still to keep by
the honest side, and not to comply with or
join the enemies of one kind or another;
yea, not to watch, ward, or strengthen their
hands in any manner of way. When I was
asked why I would not keep watch (or
stand sentry) on the town, as it was com-
manded duty, I told them I would not
lift arms against the work of God. If
ever I carried arms it should be for the
defence of the gospel.”
He now became the subject of persecu-
tion, and was in consequence obliged to
leave the town. Having learned his fa-
ther’s trade, which was that of a black-
smith, he went to Glasgow for some time,
and followed his occupation. From Glasd
gow he returned home and from thence
went again to Borrowstounness, where he
had great debate, as he himself expresses
it,—“ about that woful indulgence: I did
not know the dreadful hazard of hearing
them, until I saw they preached at the
hazard of men’s lives. This made me
examine the matter, until I found out that
they were directly wrong, and contrary to
Scripture, had changed their head, had
quitted Jesus Christ as their head, and had
taken their commission from men, owning
that perjured adulterous wretch as head of
the church; receiving their commission to
preach in such and such places from him,
and those bloody thieves under him.”

—_
ROBERT GA RNOCK.
543


From Borrowstounness he returned back
to Falkirk, and thence home to Stirling,
where he remained for some time under a
series of difficulties; for after he got off
when taken with others at the Shield-brae,
while he was making bold to visit Mr
Skeen, he was taken into the castle, and
kept all night, and used very barbarously
by the soldiers; and at eight o’clock next
morning taken before the provost, who not
being then at leisure, he was imprisoned
till the afternoon. But by the intercession
of one Colin M‘Kenzie, to whom his father
was smith, he was released without so much
as paying the jailor’s fee.—“ I had much
of the Lord’s kindness at that time, (says
he) although I did not then know what it
meant; and so I was thrust forth into my
wandering again.”
About this time he intended to go to
Ireland; but being disappointed, he return-
ed back to Stirling, where he was tossed
to and fro for some time; and yet he re-
marks, he had some sweet times in this
condition; particularly one night, when he
was down in the Carse with one Baron
Hendry. After this, heavy trials ensued
to him from professors, because he testi-
fied against every kind of their compliance
with the current of the times. Upon this
account, he and the society-meeting of
which he was a member, could not agree.
This made him leave them, and go to one
in the country; which he says, “ were more
sound in judgment, and of an undaunted
courage and zeal for God and his cause;
for the life of religion was in that society.”
After this, he fell into another difficulty ;
for, a proclamation being issued, that all
betwixt thirteen and sixty were to pay
poll-money, his father was advised that
if he would pay it he should be released;
which, though a great temptation, he ab~

!
solutely refused, telling his father plainly,
who urged him to do it, that if one plack
(or four pennies) could procure his freedom, , him to mount guard to-morrow.
he would not give it. His father offered
to pay the money for him, to which he
answered, that, if he did, he need never
expect it back, or any consideration for it,
from him. But for the result of the mat-
ter, hear his own words: “And, O! but
the Lord was kind to me then; and his
love was better than life. I was tossed in
my wanderings and banishment with many
ups and downs, till I came to Edinburgh.
where I heard of a communion to be on
the borders of England ; and then I went
to it. O let me bless the Lord, that ever
trysted me with such a lot as that was, for
the 20th, 21st, and 22d of April 1677, were
the three most wonderful days with the
Lord’s presence that ever I saw on earth!
O but his power was wonderfully seen,
and great to all the assembly, especially to
me! O the three wonderful days of the
Lord’s presence at East-Nisbet in the
Merse ! That was the greatest communion,
I suppose, these twenty years. I got there,
what I will never forget. while I live.
Glory to his sweet name, that ever there
was such a day in Scotland. He was seen
that day sitting at the head of his table, and
his spikenard sending forth a pleasant smell.
Both good and had were made to cry out,
and some to say, with the disciples, “ It is
good for us to be here.” They would have
been content to have remained there ; and
I thought it was a begun heaven to be in
that place.”
After this he returned home to Stirling,
and got liberty to follow his employment
for some time. But 10! another difficulty
occurred ; for while the Highland army was
ordered west in the beginning of 1678,
upon the town being called to arms, all
excepting a very few obeyed. Garnock,
however, refused; and, leaving the town
with the other recusants, held a meeting
\Yhen he returned, his father told him he
was passed for the first time, but it behoved
He re-


544
SCOTS WORTHIES.




fused; his father was angry, and in order
to induce compliance brought before him
the practices of others. He told his father
he would hang his faith upon no man’s
belt. On the morrow, when the drums
beat to mount guard, being the day of his
social meeting, he went out of town under
a heavy load of reproach, even from pro-
fessors, who did not scruple to say that it
was not from principles of conscience he
hesitated, but that he might have liberty to
stroll through the country. Orders were
given to apprehend Garnock ; but at that
time he escaped and wandered from one
place to another, until the beginning of
August 1678, when he came to Carrick
communion at Maybole ; and what his ex-
ercise was there, himself thus expresses:
-—“ I was wonderfully trysted there; but
not so as at the other. I went to the first
table, and then went and heard worthy
Messrs Kid and Cameron preach ata lit~
tle distance from the meeting, who never
left the field till they sealed and crowned it
with their blood. I cannot say but the
Lord was kind to me there, on the day af-
ter, and on the fast day in the middle of
the week after that, near the borders of
Kilmarnock parish, where a division arose
about the Indulgence, which to this day is
never yet done away. After my return
home, I was made to enter into covenant
with him upon his own terms, against the
Indulgence and all other compliances; and
because through the Lord’s strength I had
resolved to keep my bargain and not join
with them, it was said I had got new light;
and I was much reproached, yet I got
much of the Lord’s kindness when attend-
ing the preached gospel in the fields, to
which I would sometimes go twenty
miles.”
Having thus wandered to and fro for
some time, he went to Edinburgh to see
the prisoners, and then returned home to
Stirling in the end of the week. Late on

1 Saturday night he heard of a field-preach-
ing; and seeing the soldiers and troopers
marching out of town to attack the peo-
ple who attended it, he made himself ready,
and, with a few others went towards the
place,—~the soldiers coming forward, he a-
long with a few armed men and the minis~
ter took to a hill above Fintry, beside the
Crags of Ballglass. Perceiving the ene-
my advance, this brave little band drew up
in the best position that time and place
would permit, and sung a psalm, which so
alarmed the soldiers that, as they told after-
wards, the very matches had almost fallen
out of their hands. At last a trooper
coming up ordered them to dismiss; but
this they refused. This was repeated sev-
eral times, till at last the captain of the
foot came forward and gave them the same
charge, which they also refused. Upon this
he ordered a party of his men to advance
and fire upon them, which they did once
or twice. This little company returned
it with much courage and precision until
the whole party, with the commanding-
officer, consisting of forty-eight infantry
and sixteen horse, fired upon this little
handful, which he thinks amounted to not
above eighteen that had arms, with a few
women. After several fires were returned
on both sides, one of the sufferers stepped
forward and shot one side of the captain’s
periwig off, at which the foot fled; but the
horsemen taking advantage of the rising
ground surrounded this small party. They
then fired at a young man, but mlssed
him. However, they took him and some
others prisoners. The rest fled. Garnocl~
was hindermost, being the last on the place
of action, and says, he intended not to have
been taken but rather killed. At last one
of the enemy came after him, on which he
resolved either to kill or be killed rather than
surrender,—snatehing a pistol from one
for that purpose. But another coming up to

his assistance the dragoon fled off, and thus


ROBERT GARNOCK.
545


they escaped and stayed until the enemy
were gone, who marched directly with
their prisoners to Stirling.
After the fray was over, Garnock hov-
ered about till evening, and spoke with
some friends and the minister, who dis-
suaded him all they could from going to
Stirling. Being now approaching towards
the eve of his pilgrimage, with Paul in an-
other case when going up to Jerusalem,
he could not be prevailed upon, and so
went to town; when, entering in about one
in the morning, he got into a house at the
foot of Castlehill, and there left his arms
with much difficulty. As he was near
the head of Castlehill, he was apprehended
and brought to the guard by two soldiers
who were lying in wait for those who had
been at the meeting, and thence brought
before lord Linlithgow’s son, who asked
him, “if he was at that preaching?” He
told him, “ he was at no preaching.” Lin-
lithgow’s son said, “ he was a liar.” Gar-
nock said “ he was no liar ;” and seeing
ye will not believe me I will tell no more——
prove the rest. Linlithgow said, “he
would make him do it; but he answered,
he should not. Then he asked his name,
trade, and his father’s name, and where
he dwelt?—all of which he answered. Then
he gave orders to keep him fast. At night
he was much abused by the soldiers; some
of those who had been wounded in the
skirmish threatening him with torture,
gagging in the month, 810., all which he
bore with much patience. In the morning
a serjeant came to examine him; but he
refused him as a judge to answer to. At
last the commanding-officer came and ex-
amined him, if he was at that skirmish?
He answered, “ That for being there he was
taken ; and whether I was there or not, I I
there was as good as seventy ministers sent
am not bound to give you an account.” So
he went out, and in a little returned with i
the provost, who thought to surprise him 1 was not a head to suffer upon: when they
by asking, “ who of Stirling folk was there,”

l .
he answered, “ That they were both your
neighbours and mine ;” and though he had
been there, he might account him very
imprudent to tell; for though he thought
it his duty to ask, yet it was not his to tell
or answer, and he thought he should rather
commend him for so doing. After several
other things anent that affair, he was com-
manded to be kept a close prisoner; and
none, not so much as his father, allowed to
speak to him; but he did not want com-
pany at that time; for, says he, “ O but I
had a sweet time of it! the Lord’s counte-
nance was better unto me than all the
company in the world.”
Upon the 13th of July, he was brought
forth, and in company with about 100 more
was taken from Stirling to Edinburgh un-
der a strong guard of soldiers, and put into
the Grayfriars’ church- 'ard, amongst the
Bothwell prisoners. There he was more
vexed, both by the enemy and his fellow-
sufferers, than ever. A specimen of which
is here given in his own words: “ Some of
my neighbours desired the bond; so they
put it to me, but I refused. However, the
most part of them took it. Nay, there
were some of them supplicated for any
bond. This made some of us conclude it
was our duty to testify against it; which
piece of employment was put upon me,
against which some of the prisoners ob-
tested. So I was rendered odious; but
many a day the Lord was kind to me in
that yard, and kept me from many a fear
and snare; his love was sweet unto me.
The men complained of us to the com-
manders, who sent for me and examined
me on the bond and other things: they
said I should be gagged, and every day I
was vexed with them, until almost the
whole prisoners petitioned for it.——And
into the yard to take it; and they said it
had done, they sent in two gentlewomen
O


I) Z
546
SCOTS WORTHIES.


with the commission, and they set upon
me. I told them, if every one of them had
as much of it as I had, they would not be
so busy to press it; for before this, the
bloody crew came to the yard, and called
on me and asked if I would take the bond.
I said, No. They said, I would get no
other sentence. So I was sore put to it:
I would often have been at the doing of
something; but the Lord would not suffer
So, in his strength, I fought on and
But O the cross was sweet and
There needs none fear to
venture on suffering in his way and strength.
O happy days, that ever Iwas trysted with
such a thing! My bargaining with lovely
Jesus was sweet unto me. It is true, ‘af-
fliction for the present seems not joyous
but grievous; but afterwards, it yieldeth
the peaceable fruits of righteousness to
those who are exercised tl'ierebyf—l never
me.
overcame.
easy unto me I
knew the treachery of ministers, and their
dreadful hypocrisy and double-dealing in
the matters of God before that time, and
I could never love them after that; for
they made many a one rack their con-
science in taking that bond. I was brought
out of the yard, October 25th, with a guard
of soldiers: when coming out one Mr
White asked if I would take the bond?
I smiling said, No. He in the way of eer
said, I had a face to glorify God in the
Grassmarket. So I bade farewell to all
my neighbours, who were sorry; and IVhite
bade me take good night with them, for I
should never see them more. But I said,
My dear friends, take good heart; for we
may meet again for all this. So I was
brought before their council-court. They
asked, if I would take the bond,—I said,
No. Some of them said, perhaps he does
not know it; but Hatton said he
knows it well enough. So one of them
read it. I asked, if they would have me
subscribe a lie to take away my life ; for I
never was in rebellion nor intended to be i
SO.
‘ life.


A
They said they would make anothei
bond for me. I answered, they needed
not trouble themselves: for I was not de-
signed to subscribe any bond at this time.
—Will you rise in rebellion against the
king? I was not rising in rebellion
against the king—‘Will you take the bond,
never to rise against the king and his au-
thority? What is the thing you call au-
thority ?—They said, If they, the soldiers,
or any other subject, should kill me, I was
bound not to resist. I answered, That I
will never do.—Is the bishop’s death mur-
der? I am a prisoner; and so no judge.
——Is Bothwell Bridge rebellion? I am
not bound to give my judgment in that.
“ Then one of them said, I told you
what the rebel rascal would say :—-you will
be hanged Sir! I answered, you must
first convict me of a crime. They said,
you did excommunicate prisoners for tak-
ing the bond. I said that was not in my
power; and moreover, I was not before
them, and prove it if they were able.
They said they would hang me for re-
bellion. I said,—You cannot; for if you
walk according to your own laws, I should
have my liberty. They said,—Should we
give a rebellious knave like you your lib-
erty ?_—you should be hanged immediately.
I answered,—That lies not yet in your
power; so they caused quickly to take me
away, and put me in the Iron-house tol--
booth. Much more passed that I must
not spend time to notice.
“ So they brought me to the iron-house
to fifteen of my dear companions in trib-
ulation; and there we were a sweet com-
pany, being all of one judgment. There
serving the Lord, day and night, in single~
ness of heart, his blessing was seen
amongst us; for his love was better than
We were all with one accord trysted
sweetly together; and O it was sweet
to be in this company, and pleasant to
those who came in to see us, until the in’

i
ROBERT GARNOCK.
547


dictments came in amongst us! There
were ten got their indictments; six came
off, and four got their sentence to die at
Magus Moor. There were fifteen brought
out of the yard, and some of them got
their liberty offered, if they would witness
against me; but they refused: so they
all got their indictments; and all complied,
. . i
save one, who was sentenced to die with;
the other four at Magus Moor."
In this situation he continued till No-
vember 13th, that he was by the interces—
sion of some friends brought to the west
galleries on the other side of the tolbooth,
where he continued some time, till called
again before some of the council; after
which he was again committed to close pri-
son for a time; till one night, being called ‘;
forth by one of the keepers, one Mr John ‘
Blair being present, accosted him thus,
“Wherefore do you refuse the bond? He
answered, I have no time for that matter.
But out of that place, said Blair, you shall
not go ; for the Covenants and the 13th of
the Romans bind you to it. I answered,
No; they just bind me to the contrary.
What if Popery should come to the land,
should we bind ourselves never to defend
the true religion? He said, We were
loosed then. I said, No; Presbyterians are
taken by their word, and they abide by it;
and ere all were done, it should be a dear
bond to them; as for my part, I would
rather go to the Grassmarket, and seal it
with my blood, the. After he came down,
the keeper of the tolbooth abused .him in a
very indiscreet manner, saying, that if
there were no more men, he should be
hanged; and that he was an ignorant fool ;
3')
l
.



ministers nor men could not convince him ;
and ordered him to be detained in close cus- ;
I Mr Cameron at Monkland, which he con-
tody, where he was again as much vexed
with a company of bonders as ever; for

they were not only become lax in principle
but in duty also ; so he roundly told them
“ You are far from what you were in the
Iron-house, before you took the bond; then
you would have been up at duty by
two or three in the morning; now you lie
in bed till eight or nine in the day. They
said, It is true enough; but said no
more.”
After these got their liberty, he was ac-
companied with some other prisoners, some
of whom were kept in for debt. And
then he says, he would have been up by
four in the morning and made exercise a- '
mongst them three times a day. The Lord
was kind to him at that time, and he re-
solved never to make any compliance; and
in this he was made to “ eat meat out
of the eater, and sweet out of the strong”;
but some gentlemen, prisoners for religion
where he was before, prevailed with the
keeper of the tolbooth to have him back
to them about the beginning of 1680. But
here the old temptation to compliance and
tampering with the enemy was afresh re-
newed; for the ministers coming in to
visit these, when they could do no more,
they brought ministers to the rooms to
preach, and make him hear them; which
he positively refused. At last, they brought
a minister, one of his acquaintance, him
that should have preached that day he was
taken?" Hearing that he had made some
compliance with the enemy, he would not
go to the next room to hear him make ex-
ercise, till he knew the certainty of the
matter. After which he came to another
room, where they had some conference.
A short hint of it is here subjoined. “ He
asked after my welfare, and if Iwas going
out of prison? I told him I blessed the
Lord for it, I was well and was not going
out yet.” After some conversation anent
field-preaehings, particularly one by worthy
demned, “ he asked, “Thy I did not hear
‘ls Whether this was Mr Law, after the revolu-
tion minister at Edinburgh, Mr Huteheson, or
another, is not ascertained.



548
SCOTS WORTHIES.
practice proves it.





ministers? I answered, I desired to hear
none but what are faithful; for I am a pri-
soner, and would gladly be in the right
He said,
W herein are they unfaithful? I said, In
changing their head, quitting the Lord’s
way, and taking on with Covenant-break-
ers, murderers of his people, 820. He said,
How could you prove that? I said, their
He said, these were
but failings, and these would not perjure a
man; and it is not for you to cast off min-
isters ; you know not what you are doing.
I do not cast them off; they cast off them--
selves, by quitting the holding of the min-
istry of Christ :—-How prove you that?
The 10th of John proves it; for they come
not in by the door. You may put me
wrong; but I think, that in Gal. i. 6.——“ I
marvel that ye are so soon removed from
him that called you.” You may read that at
your leisure, how Paul had not his gospel
way, not to wrong myself.
from men, nor by the will of men. He said,
——Lay by these ; but what is the reason you
will not hear others? I said, I desire to
hear none of these gaping for the indul-
gence, and not faithful in preaching a.-
gainst it.”
After some conference anent Messrs
Cameron and Cargill, in which he said
Mr Cameron was no minister, and Mr
Cargill was once one, and had quitted it;
that they received their doctrines from their
hearers, who said, “ You must preach such
and such doctrines, and we will hear you ;”
to all which the martyr gave pertinent
answers. He said, “ Robert, do not think
I am angry that you come not to hear me,
for I desire not you, nor any of your fac-
tion to come and hear me, for I cannot
preach to all your humours.” I said,
it was all the worse for that. He said
none of these faults would cast off a
minister; they were but failings, not prin-
ciples. I said, I could not debate; but I
should let any Christian judge, if it was.

no principle for a minister to hold Christ
Head of the Church. I told him, that there
was once a day I would have ventured my
life at his back for the defence of Christ’s
gospel ; but not now. And I was more wil~
ling to lay down my life now for his sweet
and dear truths, than ever I was. He
said, the Lord pity and help me ; I said I
had much need of it. And so he went
away, and rendered me odious. This
amongst other things made me go to
God, and engage in covenant with his Son
never to hear any of those who betrayed
his cause, till I saw evidences of their
repentance. And I would have been wil-
ling to have quitted all for that “ chiefest
among ten thousand.”
Thus he continued till he says he got
bad counsel from some of his friends to
supplicate for his liberty; and they prevail-
ed so far, as to draw up a supplication, and
brought him to subscribe. But when they had
got him to take the pen in his hand, “ The
Lord bade me hold,” says he; “and one
came and bade me take heed; so I did it
not; for which I bless his holy name. But
this lets me see there is no standing in me.
Had it not been his free love, I had gone
the blackest way ever one went.”
Having now with pleasure heard some-
what of the life and exercises of Gar-
nock, we come to notice his trial, death
or martyrdom. He was brought before
the council, October 1st, where he dis-
owned the king’s authority, refused them
as his judges, and on the 7th was brought
before the court of J usticiary, and indicted,
“That he did before the council, on the
1st of October, decline the authority of
the king and council, and called the king
and council tyrants, murderers, perjured
and mansworn, declaring it was lawful to
rise in arms against them; and gave in a
most treasonable paper, termed ‘A Pro-
testation and Testimony against Parlia-
menters;’ wherein he terms the members


ROBERT GARNOCK. 049
r




V __ _\

of parliament idolaters, usurpers of the
Lord’s inheritance; and protests against
their procedure in their hell-hatched acts :
which paper is signed by his hand, whereby
he is guilty of treason. And further, gave
in a declaration to the council, wherein the
said Robert Garnock disowns the king’s
authority and government, and protests
against the council as tyrants. Therefore,
&c.” By such an explicit confession, his
own papers being turned to an indictment,
without any matters of fact against him,
there was no difficulty of probation, his own
protest and declinature being produced be-
fore the court of J usticiary and assize, to
whom he was remitted. But before the
assize were enclosed, Garnock and five
others who were indicted with him, de-
livered a paper to the inquest containing a
protestation'and warning, wherein “they
advise them to consider what they are
doing, and upon what grounds they pass a
sentence upon them. They declare they
are no rebels: they disown no authority
that is according to the word of God, and
the Covenants the land is bound by. They
charge them to consider how deep a guilt,
covenant-breaking is ; and put them in
mind they are to be answerable to the
great Judge of all, for what they do in this
matter ; and say they do this, since they are
in hazard of their lives, and against them.
It is a dangerous thing to pass a sentence
on men merely because of their conscience
and judgment, and only because they can-
not in conscience yield to the iniquitous
laws of men: that they are free subjects,
never taken in any action contrary to the
present laws; adding, that those whom
they once thought should or would rule for
God, have turned their authority for
‘tyranny and inhumanity; and employ it
both in destroying the laws of God, and
murdering his people against and without
law, as we ourselves can prove and witness
when brought in before them. After two

years’ imprisonment, one of them most
cruelly and tyrant-like, rose from the place
of judgment, and drew a sword, and would
have killed one of us; but Providence
ordered it otherwise; however, the wound
is yet to be shown. The like action was
never heard or read of. After reminding
them of David Finlay murdered at New-
mills, Mr Mitchell’s case, and James Ler-
mond, who was murdered after he was
three times set at liberty by the assize, they
added, that after such murders as deserve
death, they cannot see how they can own
them as judges, charging them to notice
what they do; assuring them their blood
will be heavy upon them ; concluding with
the words of J er. xxvi. 15.; and charging
them not to take innocent blood on their
heads.”
ALEX. RussELL,
PAT. FOREMAN.
C. LAPSLAY.
ROBERT GARxocx.
D. FARRIE.
JAMES STEWART.
Subscribed at Edinburgh,
October 7, 1681.

Notwithstanding all this, they were
brought in guilty, and sentenced to be
executed at the Gallow-lee, between Leith
and Edinburgh, upon the 10th instant,—
F oreman’s hand to be cut off before, and
the heads and hands of the rest after death,
and to be set upon the Pleasancc Port.
What his deportment and exercises were
at the place of execution, we are at a. loss
to describe ; but, from what is already
related of him, we may safely conclude,
that through divine grace, his demeanour
was truly noble and Christian. But that
the reader may know somewhat of his ex-
ercises, temper, and disposition about that
time, I shall extract a few sentences of his
own words from his last speech and dying
Testimony.
“ Ibless the Lord, that ever he honoured
the like of me withabloodygibbet and bloody
windingsheet for his noble, honourable, and


w
550
SCOTS WORTHIES.



sweet cause. O will ye love him, Sirs?
O he is well worth the loving, and quitting
all for! O for many lives to seal the sweet
cause with: if I had as many lives as there
are hairs on my head, I would think them
I bless
the Lord, I do not suffer unwillingly nor
all little to be martyrs for truth.
by constraint, but heartily and cheerfully. I
I have been a long time prisoner, and have
been altered of my prison. I was amongst
and in the company of the most part who
suffered since Bothwell, and was in com-
pany with many insnaring persons ; though
I do not question their being godly folk;
and yet the Lord kept me from hearkening
to their counsel. Glory, glory to his holy
and sweet name! It is many times my
wonder how I have done such and such
things ; but it is He that has done : He hath
done all things in me; holy is his name.
I bless the Lord I am this day to step out
of time into eternity, and I am no more
troubled, than if I were to take a match by
marriage on earth, and not so much. I
bless the Lord I have much peace of con-
science in what I have done. O but I
think it a very weighty piece of business to
be within twelve hours of eternity and not
troubled. Indeed the Lord is kind, and
has trained me up for this day, and now I
can want him no longer. I shall be filled
with his love this night; for I will be with
him in Paradise, and get a new song put in
my mouth, the song of Moses and the
Lamb: Iwill be in amongst the general
assembly of the first-born, and enjoy the
sweet presence of God and his Son Jesus
Christ, and the spirits of just men made
perfect; I am sure of it.
“ Now my Lord is bringing me to con-
formity with himself, and honouring me
with my worthy pastor Mr James Guthrie :
although I knew nothing when he was
alive, yet the Lord hath honoured me to
protest against popery, and to seal it with
my blood: and he hath also honoured me

to protest against prelacy, and to seal it
with my blood. The Lord has kept me in
prison to this day for that end. Mr Guthrie’s
head is on one port of Edinburgh, and
mine must go on another. Glory, glory
to the Lord’s sweet name, for what he hath
done for me l
“ Now I bless the Lord, that I am not,
as many suspect me to be, thinking to gain
heaven by my suffering. No, there is no
attaining of it but through the precious
blood of the Son of God. Now, ye that
are the true seekers of God, and the butt
of the world’s malice, C be diligent and
run fast, your time is precious; 0 make
use of it, and act for God; contend for
truth, stand for God against all his enemies;
fear not the wrath of man, love one another,
wrestle with God, mutually, in societies,
confess your faults one to another, pray
one with another, reprove, exhort, and re-
buke one another in love; slight no com-
manded duty, be faithful in your stations,
as you will be answerable at. the great day
of judgment, seek not counsel from men,
and follow none further than they hold by
truth. .
“Now, farewell, sweet reproaches for my
lovely Lord Jesus: though once they were
not joyous but grievous, yet now they are
sweet. And I bless the Lord for it, I
heartily forgive all men for anything they
have said of me: and I pray it may not
be laid to their charge in the day of
accounts: and for what they have done to
God and his cause, I leave that to God,
and their own conscience. Farewell all
christian acquaintance, father and mother,
&c. Farewell sweet prison for my royal Lord
Jesus Christ, now at an end. Farewell
all crosses of one sort or another; and so
farewell every thing in time, reading, pray-
ing and believing. Welcome eternal life,
and the spirits of just men made perfect.’
Welcome Father, Son, and Holy Ghost;
into thy hands I commit my spirit I”


ROBERT GARNOCK.
551


“ms-—
Accordingly the foregoing sentence, in all
its parts, was executed upon them all, ex-
cept Lapslay, who got offff‘ And so they
had their passage from the valley of misery
into the celestial country above, to inhabit
the land -—“ where the inhabitants say not,
I am sick, and the people that dwell therein
are forgiven their iniquities.”
Thus ended Garneck in the flower of his
youth ; a young man, but oldin experimental
religion. His faithfulness was as remark-
able as his piety, and his courage and con-
stancy as both. He was inured to' tribula-
tions almost from his youth, wherein he was
so far from being discouraged at the cross
of Christ, that he, in imitation of the pri-
mitive martyrs, seemed rather ambitious of
suffering. He always aimed at honesty ;
The faithful and pious Mr Renwick was pre-
sent and was much affected at the above execution;
after which he assembled some friends, lifted
their bodies in the night, and buried them in the
West Kirk. They also got their heads taken down:
but, day approaching, they could not reach the same
place, but were obliged to turn aside to Lauries-
ton’s yards, in whom one Alexander Tweedie, then
in company with them was gardener, where they
huerred theniinzibox. Tin:gardener,itissakh
planted a wdnte rose bush above thenn and a red
one a little below them,which grew more luxuriantly
flmniany hithe garden. ddnsyflacelxnng unculd-
vated for a considerable time, they lay till October
7th, 1728, when another gardener, trenching the
ground,fbund thCHL They were hfied,and by
direction were laid on a table in the Summerhouse
of the proprietor; and a fairlinen cloth being laid
over them, all had access to come and see them.
On the 19th they were put into a coffin covered
with black, and by some friends carried to Gray-
friars’ church-yard, and interred near the Martyrs’
tomb ; it being nearly forty-five years since their
separation from their bodies. They were reburied
on the sauna day, Ivednesday, and about four
okflock afiernoon.the annethne thatatfhstthey
went to their resting-place ; and attended, says one
present, “with the greatest multitude of people, old
and young, men and women, ministers and others,
that ever I saw'togedung” and there they he,
awaiting a glorious resurrection on the morning of
the hwt day, when they shah be rmsed up vvhh
more honours than at their death they were treat-
ed with reproach and ignominy.


and, notwithstanding all opposition from
pretended friends and professed foes, he
was by the Lord’s strength enabled to re
main unshaken to the last; for, though he
was nigh tripped, yet with the faithful man
he was seldom foiled, never vanquished.
May the Lord enable many in this apostate,
insidious, and lukewarm generation, to
emulate the martyr, in imitation of him who
now inherits the promise,—“ Be thou faith-
ful unto the death, and I will give thee a
crown of life l—J’
TESTIMONY
OF
ROBERT GARNOCK.
“ MEN and brethren,--I, having received
a sentence of death from men, for adhering
to the truth, against Popery, Prelacy, Eras-
tianism and Indulgences, first and last, and
all that was contrary to sound doctrine--
am now to leave a line behind me, as the
Lord will help me to write, and to tell you,
that however this generation may con-
demn me, as having ahandin my own death,
I declare that it is not so; for I die a Pres-
byterian in my judgment. For I, consider-
ing how solemnly Scotland was bound to
defend truth against all eneroachments
made thereon, with their lives and liberties,
and how they of this nation had so easily
broken their vows and engagements; and
then seeing through the Scriptures, how
deep Covenant-‘breaking draws, and what
a great and heinous sin this is in the sight of
God,—could do no less than give in my
protestation against all their proceedings, in
their hell-hatched acts, that were so con-
trary to the word of God, and our sworn
Covenants; and it is for that, that Iam
come in your presence this day, to lay down
this life of mine ; for which I bless the
Lord that ever he honoured the like of me
with a gibbet and a bloody windingsheet,
for his noble, honourable and sweet cause.


552
SCOTS WORTHIES.






“ I give my testimony to the holy and
sweet Scriptures, Covenants, Confession
of Faith, which are according to the Scrip-
tures, Catechisms Larger and Shorter, the
Acknowledgment of Sins, and Engage-
ment to Duties, and to all that our Wor-
thies have done, in defence of the gospel, at
Pentland, Loudon-hill, Bothwell-bridge,
and Ayr’s-moss; to Rutherglen Testimony,
and Sanquhar Declaration, Queensferry
Papers, and Torwood Excommunication,
the Fife Testimony, D ie, le,
and P -——-—s Protestations, and all that
hath been done in defence of the gospel,
wherever it hath been’ done. And I, as a
dying martyr for the truth, give my testi-
mony against all the encroachments on our
Lord’s rights, in less or more,-—as Popery,
Prelacy, Erastianism, and Indulgences first
and last, and all that side with them.
And I, as a dying witness for Christ, de-
sire friends to the cause of Christ to be-
ware ofthem ; ‘ for, if it were possible, they
would deceive the very elect. They will
neither enter the kingdom of heaven them-
selves, nor will they suffer others to go in
thereat.’ Beware of their fair speeches,
for they and the devil thought to have
made me break with my lovely Lord Jesus
Christ, that noble bargain betwixt him
and my soul. O! but the professors of
this generation are evil and bitter against

the sweet way of the Lord, and his poor‘-
people.
“ Next, I give my testimony against all
the enemies of God, and all that join with
them, in paying cess, locality, militia-money,‘
or whatever is for the strengthening of their
hands. And now, I leave it again on you,
that ye would not brand me with having
a hand in my own death; for I could not
get my life saved, unless I had taken upon
me all the blood of the people of God, and
owned that as lawful authority which had
taken away my dear brethren’s lives, and
said, that it was just and right what they

had done. And indeed, they seek no
more of any, if they will but own them in
what they do. They think they are right
enough in taking away our lives, when they
who are called Presbyterians own them
and their tyranny to be authority. And
now, when I am to go away, I would have
you to lay to heart how deeply owning of
them draws, and how much of the wrath
of God ye draw on you, in so doing. O
Sirs! I would have you beware, and look
what a weighty business it is; and ‘obey
God rather than man.’ I bless the Lord
I am‘ this day to step out of time into
eternity; and I am no more troubled than
if I were to take a marriage on the earth,
and not so much. I bless the Lord, I
have much peace of conscience in what I
have done. O! but I think it a very
weighty business for me to be within twelve
hours of eternity, and not troubled! In-
deed the Lord is kind, and hath trained
me up for this day, and now I can want
him no longer. I will get my fill of love
this night; for ‘ I will be with him in par-
adise, and get a new song put in my mouth,
the song of Moses and of the Lamb ;’ I
will be in amongst ‘the general assembly
of the first-born,’ and enjoy the sweet pre—
sence of God and his Son Jesus Christ,
and ‘the spirits of just men made perfect _:’
I am sure of it 3
“ O dear friends, I would, as one going
to eternity, obtest you, that you make good
earnest in religion- and be restless until
you get a clearness of an interest in Christ;
for it is a dangerous time to live in the
dark. I would have you consider what a
weighty business it is to deny the Lord of
glory before men. There have strange
things of this nature fallen out, in this our
day. O! look to yourselves, I would en-
treat you to be for God, and he will be
for you, confess him, and he will confess
you. As good soldiers, endure hardness;
wax valiant in suffering. Resist unto



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ROBERT MACWA RI).
oo3







blood for it is the cause of God that is at
stake. O! there are none of you lament-
ing after God; ah! is there none of you
that hath love to the Lord, and will take
part with him against all his enemies?
O ! but it is sad to see you with such whole
hearts, and so little grief among you, for
the robbery that the Lord of glory is get-
ting.
but, when I see you who are professors,
I declare my suffering is nothing;
what an unconcerned people ye are, it
makes my soul bleed to see you in such a
frame, when the church is in such a con-—
dition.
I wish the Lord may help poor,
1
l
I

young ones, that are brought up under you §
with the want of the gospel. O for the
gospel back again to Scotland! O for one
faithful minister in all the land! O but the ‘
harvest be great, and the labourers few!i
As for my part, now when I am going into
- l
eternity, I declare, I see not, nor hear of a g
minister in all Scotland, who is at the duty
the Lord calls for, at ministers’ hands, in '
l
preaching against all sorts of sin: ‘in sea-
son, and out of season, rebuking, reprovin g,
and exhorting.’ As for my part, Icannot
join with them who are not so.
“ Now, having no more time, I bid fare-
well to you all. Farewell holy and sweet
Scriptures, wherewith I have been refreshed
many a day. I would have you read much
of them, and pray over them to the Lord,
that ye may get his blessing with, and the
right use of them. O! make use of your
Bibles, my dear friends, so long as you
have them. Seek not counsel from men.
Follow none further than they hold by
truth. Now, I request you have a care;
this land is like to come under great errors
I heartily forgive all men, for anything
they have said of me ; I pray, that it may
not be laid to their charge in the day of
accounts. As for what they have done to
God and his cause, I leave that to God and
their own consciences.
Sic sub—Romain Gannocx.

ROBERT
ROBERT MAeWAnn was a native of‘ Glen- ‘
luce in the south of Galloway.’IE The time
of his birth, and the condition of his parents.
have unfortunately not been recorded with
any degree of certainty. His circumstances,
however, were such as enabled him to pro-

secute, without interruption, those pre-
0 a . l
paratory studies, which his chosen profes-
sion as a minister of the everlasting gospel
required him to pursue. Samuel Ruthen-
ford was professor of theology at St,
Andrews, when Mac \Vard was enrolled
there as a student of divinity in 1643; and
by that eminent scholar and divine he was
Dr Murray's Li'rrcrry 17M. of Galloway, ‘
second edition, p. 107.
MACWARI).
He accompanied Ruther-
ford in the capacity of private secretary,
when the latter proceeded to London, as
one of the Scottish Commissioners to the
\Yestminster Assembly.”L
At this period it was no unusual thing
for talented young men, before entering
upon the stated exercise of their holy voca-
greatly beloved.
tion, to be employed as regents in our uni-
In the year 1650, MacWard
regent or professor of
versities.
was appointed
Humanity in the ancient seminary oflearn-
ing, of which his distinguished friend and
patron, Rutherford, was Principal. This
' Dr Blurray‘s Life of Samuel Rutherford, p.
233. 4 A



554
SCOTS WORTHIES.











chair he occupied for a short period; for,
in 1656 he succeeded the celebrated
Mr Andrew Gray as minister of the Outer
High Church in Glasgow. It says much
for the piety and talents of MacWard
that he was, when yet so young, considered
worthy to occupy that important charge.
In this extensive sphere of usefulness he
laboured with apostolic zeal for the space
of five years; and by a conscientious dis-
charge of his ofiicial engagements, gained
an imperishable name for pastoral fidelity.
While thus employed, he incurred the
marked displeasure and hatred of the pre-
latic party, whose influence at court was
new daily on the ascendant. A mind like
that of MacWard, deeply imbued with
Christianity, and strongly attached to
Presbyterianism in all its simplicity, could
ill brook the imperious dictates which were
incessantly issuing, with the insidious
design of depriving Scotland of its ecclesi-
astical polity. He timely and loudly raised
his voice against those inroads which were
making, under the sanction of the king,
and which threatened, not merely the an--
nihilation of presbytery, but the extinction
of the religion of the land. For a sermon,
preached in the Tron Church of Glasgow,
February 1661, in which he bore public
testimony to the “ glaring defections of the
times,” he was arrested, carried to Edinburgh,
thrown into prison, and indicted by his
majesty’s advocate “ for sedition and trea-
sonable preaching.” The historian’VVod-
row has preserved the speech delivered by
MacWard, when he answered the citation
of parliament on the 6th of the following
. June. Before this tribunal he triumphantly
defended his conduct. But he spoke to
prejudiced judges, who, it is to be feared,
regarded more the wish of their sovereign,
than the unspeakable satisfaction and
honour of passing an impartial verdict.
By these invested with power, he was
looked upon as a very dangerous person.

This was quite sufiicient to sway the
justiciary lords, who passed what they
doubtless thought a lenient sentence; de-
creeing, that he should leave the kingdom
within half a year; be permitted to sojourn
one month in Glasgow, and be entitled to
the following year’s stipend. Getting his
matters settled as best he could, Mac-
Ward and his family embarked for Holland,
and arrived at Rotterdam, where he met
with a hearty reception. In his cor-
respondence, much of which has happily
been preserved, MacWard speaks in warm
and grateful strains of the sympathy and
attention shown him abroad. To Lady
Kenmure, relict of John Viscount Ken-
mure, with whom he seems to have kept
frequent intercourse by letter, he says, “ If
your ladyship be desirous to have any
account concerning my condition, know
that I have met with much undeserved
kindness. I am ashamed to call my lot a
suffering lot, for He hath rather hid me
from the storm than exposed me to trouble.
I have occasion now and then to preach at
Rotterdam, where we have ane old Scots
minister who is dissatisfied with the times.”
The minister here alluded to is Mr
Alexander Petrie, the ecclesiastical his-
torian, who had been translated by the
General Assembly in 1643, from the
parish of Rhynd, to be the first pastor
of the Scottish Church in Rotterdam.
Besides having the use of Mr Petrie’s
pulpit, MaeWard’s time was occupied in
collecting and arranging the papers of
his honoured preceptor Rutherford—the
first edition of whose “Religious Letters”
was printed abroad under MacWard’s
editorship. After this our \Vorthy took
up his abode at Utrecht. At that seat of
learning, resorted to by students from dis-
tant kingdoms, more especially from Scot-
land, he made himself most useful to his
is Wonnow MSS. Adv. Lib. Ediub. Vol. lvni.
: N0. 53.



ROBERT MACWARD. 5.95
P






young countrymen. \Vith several of the
professors, particularly Voetius and Neth-
enus, eminent theologians, he was on an
intimate footing. In the English church of
Utrecht he frequently preached; and its
sessional records pleasingly show the con-
sistent spirit of this Covenanter, in his non-
compliance with some ecclesiastical forms,
which he conceived Scripture did not enjoin,
and which Presbytery, in its purest days,
did not tolerate. MacVVard, ever anxious
to do good, complied with a request of the
session to preach every \Vednesday morn-
ing. This practice he continued till
some of the elders complained that he
did not, like Mr Best the regular pastor,
introduce the Lord’s prayer in public
worship, as also the liturgical forms trans-
lated into English, peculiar to the Dutch
Reformed church. The session, then com-
posed of natives of England, Scotland and
Holland, were divided in opinion on the
subject, and often had they “a large and
earnest discourse about the use of the
liturgy.” In 1667, by plurality of voices,
the elders, their pastor being absent,
had “ concluded and resolved, that hence-
forth no minister shall be admitted to

preach in this congregation, that refuseth
to say the Lord’s prayer, and to use the'
forms of liturgy in the administration of

baptism, the Lord’s supper, confirmation of
elders and deacons, and solemnization of
marriage, according to the orders of the
church.”* All this was clearly levelled at
Mac Ward. As his name does not appear 3
in the records of the Consistory, it is pre- 1
sumed that the captions elders carried their 1
point, and that the English congregation ,
in Utrecht was no longer edified by theI
searching discourses of this worthy man.t
In the year 1668, he brought under the 1
notice of Nethenus, professor of theology at Utrecht, the MS. of Rutherford
* Regist. of the Scottish Church in Utrecht.
+ [11.
against the Arminians. Nethenus under-
took to superintend the printing, and, in
the preface, he handsomely acknowledges his
obligations to Messrs MacVVard and Liv-
ingstone, for the valuable assistance which
they afforded him in his capacity of editor
of this masterly refutation, which, it may
be observed, for circulation among the
learned, was written in the Latin language.
MacVVard was in London in 1668, but he
returned to Holland without visiting Scot-
land. In 1669, he came to Scotland, and
was united in marriage to the widow of
provost Graham of Glasgow. On the
demise of his friend Mr John Livingstone
in 1672, he once more visited his native
country; and he finally left it for Holland
in 1674, followed a short while afterwards
by his wife, and her son. MacVVard on
settling at Rotterdam, enjoyed the society
of a greater number of banished Scottish
ministers than was to be found at any other
town in Holland. This may be accounted
for from the circumstance of there being a
vast concourse of presbyterians who had
resorted thither, with the view of engaging
in commercial pursuits, then most lucrative;
which enabled them to enjoy the high satis-
faction of relieving those of their country-
men, who had left home for conscience’
sake. Into the midst of this interesting
society MacVVard was now introduced; and
daily converse with kindred spirits was re-
freshing to him in the extreme. In the
year 1676, he was admitted one of the
ministers of the Scottish Church in Rotter-
dam, as colleague to Mr John Hogg. The
particulars respecting this appointment we
have already recorded in the Life of John
Brown. That he should have been named
I to supply the newly created place of second
minister, when men of such talent were
numerous in Rotterdam, speaks volumes
in his praise; and the selection was most
honourable to the Scottish Consistory.
MaclYard effected many important im-



556
SCOTS WORTHIES.





provements. At his suggestion, a sessional
meeting was held every Monday morning
for religious purposes, and prayer for the
success of the gospel at home and abroad.
With him, also, originated the proposal to
levy a small gratuity for the poor of the
congregation, from every Scottish vessel
arriving at Rotterdam. He successfully
arranged matters, and got the owners and
masters of ships readily to enter into his
benevolent views. For acceptable
offering, which has been uninterruptedly
and cheerfully continued to the present
this
day, free church accommodation is granted
to captains, mates, and sailors, who have
distinct pews.
The services of M ac Ward
highly valued by the whole congregation,
and by those trading to the port. He was,
indeed, no ordinary man. His pious and
becoming deportment; his anxiety to pro-
mote personal and family religion, endeared
him to his flock; and from ship to ship, as
well as from house to house, he statedly
went, speaking of the things that pertained
to the everlasting peace of his hearers.
As might be expected, his addresses from
the pulpit, energetic and truly affectionate,
could not be heard with cold indifference,
by a people for whose welfare he showed
such concern. From the particulars given
in the life of Col. Wallace and in that of
Mr Brown, our readers have already seen
how MacWard was compelled to leave his
people, through the influence of the Eng-
\VGI’C
lish government, and also how honourably
the Dutch authorities acted in this matter,
even whilst they mildly enjoined our coun-
trymcn to withdraw from Holland for a
season. The Scottish church in Rotter-
dam had the greatest cause to lament this
constrained decision of the States, as they
were thus to lose the justly appreciated
services of three excellent men. The
mournfiil intelligence was communicated at
a meeting of the Consistory, held on the
lst of February 1677 as thus appears from
lthe records :——" It was there signified to
them by Mr Robert Mac Ward, minister,
that there was come an order from the
States-General, that he, Mr John Brown,
l and Mr VVaIlace, behoved to remove from
this place, and out of the Seven Provinces
belonging to the said States, with all pos-
sible diligence; which ordinance so resolved,
was imposed upon them, doubtless from
the court of England. At which the ses-
sion being very much grieved, thereby to
be deprived of their faithful, painful, and
pious preacher, and of such another also,
who every Lord’s day was an helper in the
work of the Lord, and likewise of the
most painful and useful elder they had
amongst them; which sad and dreadful
stroake they could not look upon, but as a
signal and eminent token of the Lord’s high
displeasure against this congregation, for
the manifold sins and grievous provocations
thereof; but especially for their unfruitful-
ness and barrenness under the many wat-
erings and powerful means of grace, not
only of them, but of many other faithful,
able, and painful ministers of the gospel,
formerly removed by death, whose labours
in the gospel had been very sucessful else-
where; so that by the heavy stroake, added
to all the former, they could not but fore—
see, in all probability, that the Lord hereby
intended to forsake this place, and to extin-
guish utterly the light of the gospel
therein; which, taking to their consider-
ation, they judged it their duty to be deeply
humbled before the Lord, in deprecating
the fierceness of his wrath, and earnestly to
plead with him for mercy and pardon, and
not utterly leave and forsake some small
remnant in this place, and to continue with
the congregation, the other faithful and
painful minister, till the Lord in his mercy
and good providence should reduce and
bring back these others, now unjustly ban-
ished from them. The which Mr M acVVard

















vi. 52:: M._:....:._:./.A.q ._.: Z? ...r:
.3? ../ A. :.c._.._.
22;.5.
Irbflfinm t. xv: Pu ... r. t...~...w.wr<.< .e vfbnwucwim
ROBERT MACWARD. _"7
‘U!




they do still own and avouch to be their
minister, and the said Mr Wallace their
elder, notwithstanding of any Act or Or-
dinance now past out against them, as a-
foresaid, procured by the means of wicked
and malicious instruments and enemies to
the truth and power of godliness in the
court of England, so as they are bound
before God, and hold as a duty incumbent
upon them, to receive and embrace them
with all cordial affection, and brotherly
affection in the work of the Lord, whenso-
ever he, in his providence, shall be pleased
to take off this restraint, and bring them
back to this place again.” ‘if Mr MacVVard
promised to use his best efforts that the
Scottish congregation should continue to
enjoy its full complement of ministers, and
that his place should be filled as speedily
as possible, with an able and a zealous la-
bourer in the vineyard. At this meeting,
the last at which he presided, MacVVard
had the satisfaction of congratulating the
Session on the establishment—principally
effected by his own exertions—of an Eng-
lish school under their auspices, and of
formally introducing the newly elected
teacher. This school exists to the present
day, under the immediate patronage of the
Scottish Consistory, who have had many
gratifying proofs of its utility ; and, it has
afforded gratuitous instruction to several
who have remarkably prospered in life, and
have attributed their success, under a gra-
cious Providence, to the benefits which they
derived from an attendance at this little
seminary. Before leaving MacVVard par-
took of the Lord’s Supper with his people,
and addressed them on this unusually sol-
emn occasion. On the morning of Sab-
bath, February 25th, 1677, he preached a
farewell discourse, “being to remove the
27th instant, as he did, to the great grief,
of all truly godly in the place.” The let-
ters written by MacVVard, at Utrecht, in blessed the Lord, that he was about to close
Regist. oftlu- Scottish Church, Rott.


reference to the supply of the vacancy at
Rotterdam, breathe an excellent spirit, and
evince an uncommon degree of real piety.
The Session had impowered him to fix up-
on any minister belonging to the Church of
Scotland, whom he might regard qualified
to succeed him; and agreed, besides, to
abide by his decision. Mr John Carstares
(father of Principal Oarstares), and Mr
James Kirkton, the ecclesiastical historian,
were pressingly invited in succession; but
they having declined, Mr Robert Fleming,
who had been minister of Cambuslang.
accepted the letter of nomination. Mr
MaelVard instantly made the Session ac-
quainted with the happy result of the ap-
plication. Mr Fleming, a person of tried
Worth, and of great christian experience,
was admitted as the colleague of Mr John
Hogg, on the 30th December, 1677. The
Scottish church in Rotterdam flourished
under Fleming and his son; and, in pass-
ing, we may be allowed to observe, that as
the oldest branch of the Church of Scot-
land, on the Continent of Europe, it still
flourishes, both in point of numbers and
respectability.
MacVVard returned to Rotterdam in
1678. Colonel Wallace died in his arms;
and he was likewise called upon to witness
the departure “ to a better country,” of
many of his expatriated brethren. Yet he
bore these trials with the composure and
resignation of a Christian. He repined not
at the doings of his heavenly Father, but
patiently awaited the solemn hour when he
too should be ushered into their blissful
society. Nor did Providence design that
he should tarry long behind them. In his
last illness, he requested to be carried out,
that he might see a comet which then ap-
peared. On beholding this “ in the
heavens,” which in those days was general-
ly regarded as a sure presage of the “ dis‘
tress of nations,” MacVVard, it is said,


SCOTS VVO RTH IES.





f I lilg\ lllilllalfn rmnrrmmmmrr , \\\\ \~\;< ~ ‘
---_l-‘- \ \
51;.
~ M‘ -
~'.‘:-- ‘:2?
'_' "__..':_, -- ’




[National Scottish Church, Rotterdam.)
his eyes, and was not to witness what was I burgh, no fewer than seventy original let-
threatening to befall his native country.
has been well remarked, that few were then
aware, that the revolutions of a comet are
as regular as those of the moon, though its
orbit may be so large as to admit of its
appearance only once in hundreds of years.
month of December, 1681. A half-length
original portrait of him (from which the public.
0 I
prmt 1n our work 1s accurately taken), has '
- been preserved in the session-house of the
Scottish Church in Rotterdam. His eyes
were hazel coloured ; his complexion was
ruddy ; and his long auburn hair fell in nat-
ural ringlets on his shoulder. MacWard left
a widow, who resided alternately at Utrecht
and Rotterdam. He had a son, of whose sub-
sequent history, howevcr, we are unable to
furnish any notice. Among the VVodroW
l‘\LISS. in the Advocates’ Library, Edin-’
It ters addressed by MacWard to various
l
5 these precious documents we have occasion-
l ally dipped; and, whilst we have been much
i eminent persons have been preserved. Into

' gratified by the perusal, we have regretted
that some of the epistles, breathing such a
MaQXVard died at Rotterdam in the ‘I heavenly spirit, should not, long ere now,
have been brought before the christian
Several of Mae‘Vard’s works
were given to the world during his lifetime,
and some were printed long after his
decease. Condensation is no distinguishing
feature in his style. With a heart full of
his subject, and earnestly desirous to impress
every reader with the vast importance of
salvation, he seems fearful lest, in his direct
appeals to the conscience, he may have
omitted any consideration which might
happily induce even a solitary individual,
immediately to choose God as his portion.




JOHN PA'I‘ON. 559



This is one of the causes, we apprehend,
which gives to the writings of MacWard,
and many of our old divines, much of that
verbosity, which the present generation so
loudly deprecates. But whilst we declaim
against a vitiated taste, and with some rea-
son denounce the unnecessary subdivisions,
and involved sentences of a former age,
there is, it is to be feared, ground for sus-
pecting that we run into an opposite extreme.
The searching simplicity of gospel statement
is too frequently sacrificed at the shrine of
taste. T hose touching remonstrances with
the sinner; that apt scriptural quotation
and allusion, which carried conviction to
the understanding, and powerfully affected
the heart, are not now so often met with;
and it may be, are sometimes purposely
kept back in order to secure the short-lived
approbation of the world. Mac Ward sought
not the applause of men. Like every con-
scientious minister, he hesitated not to pub-
lish, whether from the pulpit or the press,
the whole counsel of God. He knew that
this might bring upon him the sneer of
the profane, but derision and persecution
he was willing to endure, and did endure

without a murmur, in the cause of his
Divine Master.
When Koelman was engaged rendering
into the language of Holland the works of
John Brown, Hugh Binning, and other
Scottish authors, MacWard usually furnish‘
ed him with a preliminary essay, or a
biographical notice. MacWard’s “ Alarm
to Preachers in Times of Defection,” a
small work which was never published in
English, but was translated into Dutch by
his friend Koelman, an awakening address.
His “ Poor Man’s Cup of Cold ‘Water,
ministered to the Saints and Sufferers
for Christ in Scotland,” was received with
avidity, and was esteemed as a timely and
consoling draught by the Presbyterians,
“ who were amidst the scorching flames of
the fiery tryal.” To these maybe added,
“Bander’s Disbanded,” and the “True
Nonconformist,” an acute controversial
work, written in reply to bishop Burnet.
He has been, by some, erroneously re-
presented as the author of “ Naphtali;”
which was written by Mr James Stirling,
minister of Paisley, assisted by Sir James
Stewart of Goodtrees."‘t

CAPTAIN
J OHN PATON was born at Meadowhead in
the parish of‘Fenwick and shire of Ayr.
He practised the art of husbandry till near
the state of manhood. Accounts differ as to i
the way and manner in which he at first
entered upon his military career. Some say
he enlisted as a volunteer and went abroad
to Germany, where for some heroic achieve-
ment at the taking of a certain city, he

JOHN PATON
appearance had undergone such a change,
that his parents scarcely knew him. Other
accounts bear that he was with the Scots
army or militia, who went to England in
January 1643-4, and was at the battle
of Marston Moor, at which place it is said,
that in consequence of swallowing some
bad drink, an asthmatical disorder was con-
tracted, which continued ever after; but
was advanced—probably by Gustavus whether this is the case or not, it is certain
Adolphus king of Sweden—to a captain’s
post, and that when he returned home, his ,
I
l
that he must have returned very soon to
Scotland; for we are told that, in 1645,
it See Dr Steven’s Hist. of the Scottish Church, Rotterdam, &c.


560
SCOTS WORTHIES.






when the several ministers in the western
shires were called out to take the lead of
their own parish militia, to oppose Mon-
trose’s insurrection, he was called out by
Mr ‘William Guthrie, and appointed a cap~
tain; on which occasion he behaved with
much gallantry. Among the Covenanters,
particularly upon their defeat at Kilsyth,
an event took place of which we may give
the following account.
Montrose, having on the 2d of July ob-
tained a victory over the Covenanters,
crossed the Forth, and, upon the 14th, en-
camping at Kilsyth near Stirling,
countered the Covenanters’ army on the
following day, which was there under the
command of lieutenant-general Baillie.
At the first onset, some of Montrose’s
Highlanders, going too far up the hill, were
surrounded by the Covenanters and nearly
defeated; but Lord Airly, then an old man,
being sent from Montrose with fresh sup-
plies, the Covenanters were obliged to give
way, and were by the enemy driven back
into a standing marsh or bog, where they
could neither fight nor flee.
gency, one of the captain’s acquaintance,
when sinking, cried out to him for God’s
sake to help; but when he turned round
he was nowhere to be seen; for he had
sunk in the marsh, where he could never
be found afterwards. Upon this disaster,
the swiftest of the Covenanters’ horse got
to Stirling ; but the foot were mostly killed
on the spot, and in the pursuit which, accord-
611--
In this exi-
ing to some historians, continued for the '
space of fourteen miles, the greater part of
the Covenanters’ army was either drowned
or cut off.
In this extremity, the captain, as soon
as he could get free of the bog, with sword
in hand made the best of his way through
the enemy, till he had got safe to the two
colonels, Hacket and Strachan, who all
three rode off together; but they had not
gone far till they were encountered by



about fifteen of the enemy, all of whom
they killed except two who escaped. ‘When
they had gone a little farther, they were
again attacked by about thirteen more, and
of these they killed ten, so that only three
of them could make their escape. But,
upon the approach of eleven Highlanders
more, one of the colonels said in a famil--
iar dialect, “J olmie, if thou dost not some—
what now, we are all dead men.” To whom
the captain answered, “ Fear not; for we
will do what we can before we either yield
or flee before them.” They killed nine of
them, and put the rest to flight.
About this time the Lord began to look
upon the affliction of his people. For
Montrose having defeated the Covenanters
five or six different times, the Committee
of Estates began to bethink themselves,
and for that end saw cause to recall
general Leslie, with 4000 foot and 1000
dragoons, from England. To oppose him,
Montrose marched southward, but was
shamefully routed by Leslie at Philiphaugh,
upon the 13th of September. Many of his
forces were killed and taken prisoners,
and he himself escaped with much diffi-
culty ;”‘= after which Mr William Guthrie
and captain Paton returned to F enwick.
Thus matters continued till the year
1646, when there arose two factions in
Scotland, headed by the duke of Hamil-
ton and the marquis of Argyle. The one
party aimed at bringing down the king to
* Although Montrose got off at this time, yet
when he made another insurrection in 1650, he
was fought and routed by a few troops under the
command of the forementioned colonels, Strachan,
Hacket, and Kerr, and himself taken afterwards
in the laird of Assen’s bounds and brought to
Edinburgh, where he was by the parliament eon-
demned to be hanged, May 31, on a gallows thirty
feet high, within the space of three hours; his head
to be cutoff, and placed on the tolbooth, and his
legs and arms to be hung up in other public towns
in the kingdom ; which was executed accordingly.
See the History of the Civil Wars. p. 30. Mon-
trose’s Memoirs, p. 5l7, 8m.



CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
561



Scotland, which was opposed by the other.
They, however, continued to levy troops,
in consequence of which the duke marched
to England with a powerful army. In the
mean time, major-general Middleton came
upon a handful of the Covenanters who
had assembled to celebrate the Lord’s Sup-
per at Mauchline, when, notwithstanding
a solemn promise to the contrary, he made
an attack upon the worshippers on the
Monday following. Although Paton’s men
acted only on the defensive, it is said that
the captain slew eighteen of the enemy with
his own hand.
But the duke and his army being de-
feated, and Argyle afterwards beheaded,
the English following up the victory, Crom-
well entered Scotland with his men, in con-
sequence of which the engagers were not '
only made to yield, but were quite dispersed. .
After this some of the stragglers came west
for the purpose of plunder, and, taking up
their residence for some time, in the moors
of London, Eaglesham, and F enwick, the
captain was again made to bestir himself.
Taking a party of F enwick men, he went
in pursuit, and found some of them at a
house in that parish called Lochgoin, where
he so affrighted them, though no blood
was shed, that giving their promise never -
to molest or trouble that house, or any
other place in the bounds again, under pain
of death, they went off without further
molestation.
Charles I. being beheaded, January 80,
1649, and Charles II. called home from
Breda, 1650, upon notice of an invasion
from the English, the Scotch Parliament
appointed a levy of 10,000 foot and 3000
horse, to be instantly raised for the defence T
of the king and kingdom, with whom it
was necessary that the captain should
again take the field; for his military skill
had now rendered him universally popular.



Cromwell having entered Scotland in,
July. 1650, had several skirmishes with
the Scotch army, till the latter were, upon
the 3d of September, totally routed at
Dunbar. After this the Act of classes
being repealed, both church and state
began to act in different capacities, and
to look as suspiciously on one another as
on the common enemy. There were if.
the army, on the protestors’ side, colonels
Kerr, Hacket and Strachan, and of infe-
rior officers, major Stuart, captain Arnot,
brother to the laird of Lochridge, captain
Paton, and others. The contest came to
such a crisis, that the colonels Kerr and
Strachan threw up their commission and
came to the west with some other officers;
many of whom were esteemed the most
religious and best affected in the army.
They proceeded to give battle to the Eng—
lish at Hamilton, but were defeated.
The Scotch army, being no longer able to
hold out against the English, shifted about,
and went to England ; when about the end
of August, 1651, Worcester surrendered to
them. The English army, however, fol-
lowed hard and totally routed them upon
the 3d of September, which forced the
king to retreat from the kingdom. After
this the captain returning home, took the
farm of Meadow-head, where he was born,
and married one Janet Lindsay, who did
And here the
excellences of his Christian life in a private
not long survive the union.
station were as distinguished as those which
he exhibited while a soldier in the camp;
for, sitting under the ministry of that
faithful man, Mr \Villiam Guthrie, he be-
came a. member of his session,-—a station
which he held till that bright and shining
light was extinguished by Charles II., who
was now on the throne ; wreathing the yoke
of supremacy and tyranny about the neck
of both church and state, till matters came
to such a pass that in the year 1660, upon
some insolence committed in the south
and west by Sir J amcs Turner, :1 number
of people rose under the command of Bar-



4 I;
562
SCOTS WORTHIES.





>__.\,_._



sented his pistol, when, upon their first dis_
charge, captain Paton perceiving the ball
glance down upon Dalziel’s boots, and
knowing what was the cause, put his hand
into his pocket for a small piece of silver he
had there for the purpose, and put it into his
other pistol. But Dalziel, having his eye
on him in the mean time retreated behind
his own man, who by that means was slain
The colonel’s men being flanked in on all
hands by Dalziel’s men were broken and
overpowered in all their ranks; so that the
captain and other two horsemen from
Fenwick were surrounded, five men deep,
by the general, through whom he and the
two men at his back had to make their way,
scob, and other gentlemen from Galloway,
in self-defence. Several parties from the
shire of Ayr joined them, commanded by
colonel James Wallace from Achans;
captain Arnot with a party from Mauch-
line; Lockhart of YVieketshaw, with a
party from Carluke ; major Lermount, with
a party from above Galston; Neilson of
Gorsack, with a party from Galloway ; and
captain Paton, who now took the field
again, with a party of horse from London,
F enwick, and other places. Being assem-
bled, they went eastward, renewing the
covenants at Lanark, from thence they
went to Ba-thgate, then to Collington, and ‘
so on till they came to Bullion, near Pent- i
lend hills, Where, HPOYI that fate-1 day, NO- when there was almost no other on the
vember 28th, they Were attacked by genera-1 \ field of battle, having in this encounter
Dalziel and the king’s forces. At their stood nearly an hour,
first Onset, captain ArIlOt and a party 0fl So soon as Dalgiel perceived him go off,
home fought a party 0f DfllZiel’S 111611 With he commanded three of his men to follow
gOOd success; and after him another party hard after him, giving them marks whereby
made the genel‘al’s men fly; but, upon they should know him. They no sooner
their last encounter, about sunset, Dalziel, Came up with the captain, before whom
who had suffered so many repulses, advan' was a great slough out of which three
ced the Whole left Wing of his army upon Galloway men had just drawn their horses.
colonel Wallace's right, where having They cried aloud “ what would they do
scarcely three weak horse to receive them, new?” Paton answered, “what was the
they were obliged to give Way. Here cap- fray?” He saw only three men coming up-
tain Paton, who was all along with cap- on them; and then causing his horse to
tain Arnot in the first encounter, behaved jump the ditch, he faced about, and with
with great courage and gallantry. Dalziel, his drawn sword in his hand, stood still, tili
knowing him in the former wars, advanced the first coming up, endeavoured to make
upon him himself, thinking to take him his horse jump over also. Upon which. he
prisoner. Upon his approach, each pre- i with his sword ’*‘ clave his head in two;
\
"‘ This sword is now in the possession ofthe “ Howies of Lochgoin.n besides several other reliques.


[Captain Paton’s SwortL]
used by our Covenanting forefathers in defence of the Presbyterian religion, when, like David of old,
they were compelled to put on shield and buc'kler. ln possession of the same family is afiag that
was carried by the Fenwick Covenanters at the battle of Drumclog, and a drum which did duty on that
ever memorable battle-field. The sword was then counted to have twenty~eight gaps in its edge,
which made it be afterwards observed, that there were just as many years of the persecution as
there were steps or broken pieces in its edge.


CAPTAHQJOHN'PATON. 563



and his horse being marred, fell into the
bog, with the other two men and horse.
He told them to take his compliments to
their master, and tell him he was not
coming this night; and so came off, and got
been any way accessary to the rising at
Pentland, so that they were obliged to re-
sort to the mountain fastnesses, and other
desolate and solitary places. The winter
following, Paton and about twenty others
safe home at last. had a very remarkable deliverance from the
After this, the Covenanters were reduced enemy—Being assembled at Lochgoin
to many hardships, particularly such as had 1 upon a certain night, for fellowship and





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[Lochgoiu—the Birth-place of John Home.)
godly conversation, they were miraculously
anticipated or prevented by a repeated
dream of the enemy’s approach, by the old
man of the house, who had gone to bed for
some rest on account of his infirmity, and
that just within as much time as enabledi
them to make their escape, the enemy being
not a mile from the house. After they
got off, the old man rose up quickly, and
met them with an apology for the circum-
stance the house was then in, (it being but
a little after daybreak,) and nothing at
that time was discovered.
About this time, Paton sometimes re-
mained at home, and sometimes in such?
from the search of his persecutors. He
married a second wife, one Janet Millar
fi'om Ea glesharn, (whose father fell at Beth-
well-bridge,) by whom he had six children,
who continued still to possess the farms of
Meadowhead and Artnock in tack, until
the day of his death.
He was also one who frequented the
pure preached gospel wherever he could
obtain it, and was a great encourager of the

; practice of carrying arms for the defence
.5 thereof, which he took to be aproper mean
in part to restrain the enemy from violence.
But things growing still worse and worse.
new troops of horse and companies of foot
remote places as could best conceal him ‘ being poured in upon the western shires, on





e64
SCOTS WORTHIES.
.,——:~~——V_-%— —— —

purpose to suppress and search out these
field-meetings, occasioned their
rising again in 1679 ; while, by these un_
paralleled severities, they were, with those
of whom the apostle speaks, “destitute,
afflicted, and tormented, of whom the world
was not worthy; and they wandered in
deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and
caves of the earth,” Heb. Xi. 37, 38.
The suffering remnant, under the com-
mand of Mr Robert Hamilton, having got
the victory over Claverhouse on the 1st of
June, 1676, at Drumclog in Evandale, in
which skirmish there were about thirty-six
or forty of that bloody crew killed, went on
the next day for Glasgow in pursuit of the
enemy: but returning back without success,
on the 3d of June they formed themselves
into a camp, and held a council of war.
On the 4th they met upon Kyperidge;
and on the 5th they went to commissary
Fleming’s park, in the parish of Kilbride;
by which time Paton, who all this time
had not been idle, came to them with a
body of horsemen from Fenwick and
Galston ; and many others joined them, so
that they were greatly increased. ‘
They had hitherto been of one heart and
one mind; but a certain party of horse from
Carrick came to them, with whom were
Mr Welch, and some other ministers who
which
favoured the indulgence; after which they
never succeeded, but were finally defeated
at Bothwell-bridge, upon the 22d of June
following.
The protesting party were not for joining


them out of town, as they supposed for the
purpose of preaching; but, upon being asked
where they were going, they replied that
according to orders which King and
Paton had privately received, they were to
go and disperse a meeting of the enemy at
Campsie. Upon going thither, they found
they were disappointed, it being only a
stratagem to get free of King and the rest
of the faithful officers.
These trusty officers were Mr Hamilton,
General Hackston of Rathillet, Hall of
Haugh-head, Captain Paton in Meadow-
head, J ohn Balfour of Kinloch, Mr Walter
Smith, William Carmichael, William Cle-
James and Robert
Fleming. Their ministers were Messrs
Donald Cargill, Thomas Douglas, John
Kid, and John King; for Mr Richard
Cameron was then in Holland. Henry
Hall of Haugh-head, John Paton in Mea-
dow-head, William Carmichael, and An-
drew T urnbull, were ruling elders of the
Church of Scotland.
Thus the protesting party continued to
struggle with the Erastian, until that
fatal day, June 22, when they were broken
The
captain at this time was made a major:
land, Henderson,
and made to flee before the enemy.
and some accounts bear, that the day pre-
ceding he was made a colonel. Mr
Wilson when writing upon that affair, says,
that he John Paton, Robert
Fleming, James Henderson, and William
Cleland, were chosen to be colonels of
SUPPOSGS
i regiments; however, as he did not enjoy
with those of the Erastian side, till theyi
should declare themselves for God and;
this place long, we find him still afterwards
continued in the character of captain John

his cause, against every defection what-
ever; but Welch and his party found out.
a way to get rid of such officers as they
feared most opposition from; for, orders were
given to Rathillet, Haugh-head, Carmichael,
and Smith, to go to Glasgow to meet with
Messrs King and Paton, which they obeyed.
\Vhen at Glasgow, King and Paton led

Paton.
The sufferers were now exposed to new
hardships, and none more than captain
Paton, who was not only declared rebel by
order of proclamation, but also a round
sum was offered for his head, which made
him be more hotly pursued. A little after
Bothwell, the Captain had a most remark


CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
565



able escape and deliverance from his blood-
thirsty enemies; of which the following-
account may be given.
The captain with a few more being
one night quartered in the forementioned
house of Lochgoin,* with James Howie,
who was one of his fellow-sufferers,—at
which time one captain- Inglis, with a.
party, lay at the dean of Kilmarnock’s,
who sent out parties on all hands to see
what they could apprehend—and that night
a party being sent out in quest of some of
the sufferers, came to Meadow-head, and
from thence went to another remote place
in the moors of Fenwick, called Croilburn;
but finding nothing there, they went next
to Lochgoin, as apprehending they would
not miss their design there; and that they
might come upon this place more securely,
they sent about five men with one sergeant
Rae, by another way, whereby the main
body could not come so well up undis-
covered.
The sufferers had watched all night,
which was very stormy, by turns, and
about daybreak, the Captain, on account
of his asthmatical disorder,‘ went to the
far-end of the house for some rest. In the
z” This house and family was also a harbour and
succour to our late sufferers, both gentlemen, minis-
ters, and private Christians; for which, after this
and their nonconformity to prelacy. they were
not only harassed, pillaged, and plundered, to the
number of ten or twelve times during that period;
but also both the said James Howie, the possessor,
and John Howie, his son, were by virtue ofa pro-
clamation, May 5, I679, declared rebels, their
names inserted in the fugitives’ roll, and put on
the parish church doors, whereby they were ex-
posed to close hiding, in which they escaped many ,
imminent dangers; and yet were so happy as to j
survive the Revolution at last, though they never ,
But the l
saidJames Howie, when dying, November 1691, ;
emitted a latter-will or testimony, wherein he not only gave good and satisfying evidence of his own '
acceded to the revolution church, 8:0.
well-being and saving interest in Jesus Christ, but
also gave a most faithful testimony to Scotland’s
covenanted work of Reformation, and that in all the parts and periods thereof.

_ ,__..,-,._,-

meanwhile, one George Woodburn went
out to make observations from which he
’ was but a little time returned, when on a
sudden, sergeant Rae came to the inner
door of the house, and cried out, “Dogs,
Ihave found you now!” The four men
took to the spence,—James and John
Howie happening to be then in the byre,
among the cattle. The wife of the house,
one Isabel Howie, seeing none but the
sergeant, cried to them to take the hills
and not be killed in the house. She took
hold of Rae, as he was coming boldly for-
ward to the door of the place in which they
were, and ran him backward out of the
outer door of the house, giving him such a
hasty turn, as made him lie onthe ground.
In the mean time, the captain being alarmed,
got up, put on his shoes, though not very
hastily, and they got all out before the rest
of the party came up. The sergeant fired
his gun at them, which one John Kirkland
returned. The bullet passed so near the
sergeant, that it took off the knot of hair on
the side of his head. The whole crew be-
ing alarmed, the captain and the rest took
the way for Eaglesham moors, and they
followed. Two of the men ran with the
captain, and other two staid by turns, and
fired back on the enemy, the enemy firing
on them likewise; but by reason of some
wetness their guns had got in coming
through the water, they were not so ready
to fire, which helped the others to escape.
When they had pursued them some time,
John Kirkland turned, and stooping down
on his knee, aimed so well, that he shot a
Highland sergeant through the thigh, in
consequence of which the sufferers gained
ground. Being now come to the moors
of Eaglesham, the four men went to the
heights, in view of the enemy, and then
caused the captain, who was now old, to
take another way by himself. At last he
got a mare upon the field, which he took
the liberty of mounting, that he might the




566
SCOTS WORTHIES.








more readily escape; but before he was
aware, a party of dragoons made their ap-‘
pearance. Paton was a most conspicuous
object; for he wanted his shoes, and was
riding without a saddle; however, he passed
by them very slowly, and got off undis-
covered; and at length, giving the mare
her liberty, he went to another of his lurk—
ing-places. All this happened on a Mon-
day morning; and on the morrow these
persecutors returned, and plundered the
house, drove off the cattle, and left al-
most nothing remaining.*
About this time, the captain met with
another deliverance; for, having a child
removed by death, the incumbent of the
parish, knowing the time when the corpse
was to be interred, gave notice to a party
of soldiers at Kilmarnock, to come up and
take him at the burial of his child. But
some persons present at the burial per-
suaded him to turn back, in case the enemy
should come upon them at the church-yard;
which he accordingly did, when he was but
a little distant from the church.
He was also a great succourer of those
sufferers himself, in so far as his circum-
stances could admit—several of his fellow-
companions in the tribulation and patience
of Jesus Christ resorting at certain times
to him; such as worthy David Hackston
of Rathillet, Balfour of Kinloch, and Mr
Donald Cargill; and it is said, that Mr
Cargill dispensed the sacrament of baptism
to twenty-two children in Paton’s barnt at
Meadow-head, some time after the engage-
ment at Bothwell-bridge. i
In the time of this, or another plunder shortly
after this, some of the soldiers burnt the Bible in
the fire, in a most audacious manner.
t It may not be unworthy of remark that the
floor of the barn in which the ordinance was dis-
pensed and part of the walls are still to be seen.
I This seems to have been when he made a tour
through Ayrshire to Galloway. A little after they
were surprised by the enemy on a fast day near
Loudonhill, upon May 5, 1681.


Not long before his death, about the
beginning of August, 1684,11e came to the
house of one Robert Howie in Floack, in
the parish of Mearns,-—formerly one of his
hiding places,—where he was by five sol-
diers apprehended before he or any one in
the house were aware. He had no arms,
yet the indwellers there offered him their
assistance if he wanted it. Indeed they
were in a condition to have rescued him,
yea, he himself, once in a day, could have
extricated himself from double that number;
but he said it would bring them to further
trouble, and as for himself, he was now
become weary of his life, being so hunted
from place to place; and being now well
stricken in years, his hidings became the
more irksome. He was not afraid to die;
for he knew well that whenever he fell in-
to their hands, this would be the ease, and
he had now got time to think of it for many
years; for his interest in Christ, of that be
They took him to Kilmarnock,
but knew not who he was—taking him for
some old minister or other ;—till they came
to a place on the highway called Moor-
yeat, where the goodman of that place see-
‘VitS sure.
ing him in these circumstances, said, Alas!
captain Paton, are you there? and then
to their joy, they knew who they had got
into their hands. He was carried to
Kilmarnock, to Ayr, and then back to
Glasgow, and soon after to Edinburgh.
It is reported as a fact, that general
Dalziel met him here, and took him in his
arms, saying, “ John. I am both glad and
sorry to see you. If I had met you on the
way, before you came hither, I should have
set you at liberty ; but now it is too
late. But be not afraid, I will write to his
Majesty for your life.” The captain replied,
“ You will not be heard.” Dalziel said,
“ Will I not? If he does not grant me the
life of one man, I shall never draw a sword
for him again!” And it is said that, having
spoken some time together, a man came


CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
567



and said to the captain, You are a rebel to
the king. To whom he replied, “ Friend,
I have done more for the king than perhaps
thou hast done.” Dalziel said, “ Yes, John,
that is true !”—perhaps he meant at VVorces-
ter—and he struck the man on the head
with his cane, till he staggered, saying, he
would teach him better manners than to use
a prisoner so. After this and more reason-
ing, the captain thanked him for his court--
esy, and they parted.
His trial was not long delayed. Mr
\Vodrow says, that, on April 16, the coun-
cil ordered a reward of £20 Sterling to
Cornet Lewis Lauder for apprehending
John Paton, who had been a notorious
rebel these eighteen years. He was brought
before the J usticiary, and indicted for being
with the rebels at Glasgow, Bothwell, &c.
The advocate, ex supcrabtmdcmti, passed
his being at Pentland and insisted on his
being at Bothwell. The Lords found
his libel relevant; and for probation they
refer to his own confession before the
council ;-—John Paton, in Meadow-head in
Fenwick, that he was taken in the parish
of Mearns, in the house of Robert Howie
in Floack, and that he haunted ordinarily
in the fields and moors, confesses that he
was moved by the country people to go out
in the year 1666, and commanded a party at
Pentland ; confesses that he joined with
the rebels at Glasgow, about eight days
before the engagement, and commanded a
party at Bothwell, &c. The assize had no

more to cognize upon.but his own confession,
yet brought him in guilty. The Lords con-
demned him to be hanged at the Grass-
market of Edinburgh, on \Vednesday, the
23d of April. But, by other accounts, he
was charged before the council for being a rebel since the year 1640 ; his being an 0p- 1
poser of Montrose ; his being at Mauchline ’
moor, &c.
He was prevailed on ‘to petition the
council, upon which he was respited to the
30th, and from that to May 9th, when he
suffered according to his sentence. And
no doubt Dalziel was as good as his word;
for it is said, that he obtained a reprieve
for him from the king; but on its coming
to the hands of Bishop Paterson, it was kept
up by him till he was executed; which
enraged the general not a little. It seems
they had amind to spare him; but as
he observed in his last speech, the prelates
put an effectual stop to that. In the last
eight days of his life he got a room by
himself, that he might more conveniently
prepare for death; which was a favour
at that time granted him above many
others.
What his conduct or deportment at the
place of execution was, we are now at a
loss to know; only it is believed it was
becoming such a valiant servant and sol-
dier of Jesus Christ,—an evidence of which
we have in his last speech and dying testi-
mony.
Thus another gallant soldier of Jesus
Christ came to his end; the actions of
whose life, and demeanour at death, do fully
indicate that he was of no rugged dispo-
sition, as has been by some asserted 0"
these our late sufferers; but rather of a
meek, judicious, and Christian conversation,
tempered with true zeal and faithfulness
for the cause and interest of Zion’s King
and Lord. He was of a middle stature,—
as accounts bear—strong and robust,
somewhat fair of complexion, with large
eyebrows. But what enhanced him more
was, courage and magnanimity of mind
which accompanied him upon every emer-
gent occasion; and though his extraction
was but mean, it might be truly said of
him,—that he lived a hero, and died a
' martyr.


i ,
l

SCOTS WORTHIES.




TESTIMONY
OF
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
" DEAR. friends and spectators,—You are
come here to look upon me a dying man,
and you need not expect that I shall say
much; for I was never a great orator or
eloquent of tongue, though I may say
as much to the commendation of God in
Christ Jesus, as ever any poor sinner had
to say. I have been as great a sinner as
ever lived; strong corruptions, strong lusts,
strong passions, a strong body of death,
have prevailed against me; yea, I have
been chief of sinners. I may say, on every
though the world
cannot charge me with any gross trans-
gression this day, for which I bless the
I.ol'd,—O! what omissions and commis-
sions, what formality and hypocrisy, that
even my duties have been my grief and
fear, lest thou, a holy God, had made them
my ditties, and mayest do ; my misimproved
time may be heavy upon my head, and a
cause of desertion; and especially my
supplicating the council, who have, I think,
laid their snares the closer to take away
my life, though contrary to their own pro-
fessed law. I desire to mourn for my
giving ear to the counsels of flesh and
blood, when I should have been consulting
Heaven, and to reflect upon myself, though
it lays my blood closer to their door, and I
think, the blood of my wife and bairns.
I think their supreme magistrate is not ig-
norant of many of their actings, but these
prelates will not be found free when our God
back-look of my way,

makes an inquisition for blood. And now I
am come here, desired of some indeed who
thirst for my life, though by others not
desired. I bless the Lord I am not come
here asa thief or a murderer, and I am
free of the blood of all men and hate blood-

shed, directly or indirectly. And now I am
a poor sinner, and never could merit any-
thing but wrath, and have no right-
eousness of my own; all is Jesus Christ’s
and his alone, and I have laid claim to his
righteousness and his sufferings by faith in
Jesus Christ. Through imputation they
are mine; for I have accepted of his offer
on his own terms, and sworn away myself
to him to be at his disposal, both privately
and publicly, many times ; and now I have
put it upon him to ratify in heaven all that
I have essayed to do on earth, and to do
away all my imperfections and failings, and
to stay my heart on him. I seek mercy for
all my sins, and believe to get all my chal-
lenges and sins sunk in the blood and suf-
ferings of Jesus and his righteousness, and
that he shall see of the travail of his soul
on me, and the F ather’s pleasure shall
prosper in his hand. I bless the Lord
that ever he led me out to behold any part
of his power in the gospel, in kirks, or
fields, or any of his actings for his people
in their straits. ‘ The Lord is with his
people while they be with him ;’ we may
set to our seal to this while they be
united; and O for a day of his power in
cementing this distempered age! It is sad
to see his people falling out by the way,
and of such a fiery spirit,——that look to ‘be
at one lodging at night, especially those
who profess to keep by our glorious work
of Reformation and solemn engagements to
God, and to hold off the sins of these times.
O hold off extremities on both hands, and
follow the example of our blessed Lord and
the Cloud of Witnesses in the 11th of the
Hebrews. And let your way be the good
old path, the word of God, and best times
of the Church; for if it be not according to
his word, it is because there is no truth
in it.
“\low, as to my interrogations, I was
not clear to deny Pentland or Bothwell.
They asked me, Howlong I was at them '8


fi,_
CAPTAIN JOHN PATON.
569


I said, Eight days; and the assize had no
more to sentence upon; for the advocate
said he would not pursue for Pentland,
by reason of an indemnity before the privy
council. The counsel asked me, If I ac-
knowledged authority? I said, All author-
ity according to the word of God. They
charged me with many things, as,—If I
had been a rebel since the year 1640, and
at Montrose’s taking at Mauchline moor.
Lord forgive them, for they know not
what they do !
“I adhere to the sweet Scriptures of
truth of the Old and New Testament, and
preached gospel by afaithfully sent ministry,
—whereby He many times communicated
himself to the souls of his people, and to
me in particular, both in the kirks, and
since on the fields, and in the private meet~
ings of his people for prayer and supplica-
tion to him. I adhere to our solemn Cov-
enants, National and Solemn League, Ac-
knowledgment of Sins, and Engagement
to Duties, which became National. I adhere
to our Confession of Faith, Larger and
Shorter Catechisms, Causes of Wrath, and
to all the Testimonies given by his people
formerly, and of late, either on the fields or
scaffolds, these years bygone,—in so far as
they are agreeable to his word, and the
practice of our worthy reformers, and holy
true zeal, according to his rule. I adhere
to all our glorious work of Reformation.
Now, I leave my testimony, as a dying man,
against the horrid usurpation of our Lord’s
prerogative and crown right,——I mean that
supremacy established by law in these lands,
which is a manifest usurpation of his crown;
for He is given by the Father to be Head to
the church, Col. i. 18, 19. ‘ And he is the ,
Head of the body, the church ;—-who is the
beginning, the first-born from the dead;
r
ism, and all that depends upon that hierar~
chy, which is a yoke that neither we nor
our fathers were able to bear, which the
poor remnant is groaning under this day,
by that horrid cruelty rending their con-
sciences, by tests and bonds, taking away
their substance and livelihoods by fines and
illegal exactions, plunderings, and quarter-
ings, and compelling them to sin, by hearing,
joining, and complying, with these mali-
cious curates. Mat. xxiii. 13. ‘ VVo unto
you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites; for
ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against
men ; for ye neither go in yourselves, nei-
ther suffer ye them that are entering to go
in.’ I leave my testimony against the
Indulgence, first and last, for I ever looked
on it as a snare, and so I never looked up-
on them as a part of the hopeful remnant
of the Church; and now it is sad to see how
some of them have joined by their deeds
in the persecution of the poor remnant,
and almost all, in tongue persecution.
“ Now, I would speak a short word or
two, to three sorts of folk, but I think, if
one would rise from the dead, he would not
be heard by this generation, who are mad
upon idols and this world. First, those
who have joined deliberately with the per-
secutors, in all their robberies and haling
innocent souls to prison, death, and ban-
ishment. The Lord will not hold then
guiltless; they may read what the Spirit of
God hath recorded of them in Jude, 11th
verse, and downward, and Obadiah’s pro-
phecy. A second sort is those who seem
to be more sober, and knowing, yet through
a timorousness and fear, have joined with
them in all their corrupt courses for ease
and their own things ;——do not think that
these fig-leaves will cover you in the cool
of the day; it is a hazard to be mingled
that in all things he might have the pre- | with the heathen, lest we learn of them
eminence. For it pleased the Father, that : their way. O, Sirs, be zealous and repent;
in him all fulness should dwell.’ And
against all Popery, Prelacy, and Erastian-
I

seek repentance from Christ, he purchased
it with his blood; and do your first works,


4 c.
570
SCOTS WORTHIES.





if ever there was any saving work on your
souls; for he will come quickly, ‘and who
may abide the day of his coming 13’ O, Sirs,
the noble grace of repentance grows not in
every field ; many could not get it, though
they sought it carefully with tears. O
work while it is today, the night draweth
on, and it may be very dark. The third
sort is those who have been most tender;
and, O, who of us can say that we have
out of love to his glory singly followed him;
upon examination we fear we find it not so,
but that we have come far short. We fear
we find not him such as we would, nor he
us such as he would. 0 we may say,
‘ From the crown of the head to the sole
of the foot there is no place clean.’ None
can cast a stone at another; we are all
wounds, bruises, and defilements. We must
put this work upon him who is the foun-
tain to Wash foul souls, who ‘ breaks not the
bruised reed, nor quenches the smoking
flax. Give him much ado, for we have
much ado for him. O that there were no
rest in our bones because of our sin. It is
the Father’s pleasure that he should see
his seed, and the pleasure of the Lord
prosper in his hand. 0 that he would
make every one of us understand our
errors, and seek after the good old path,
followed in the most pure times of our
Church, and get in to our Lord Jesus
Christ, by faith in his righteousness, by
imputation and virtue of his sufferings for
sinners, and keep by him. There is no
safety but at his back; and I beseech you,
improve time,-—it is precious when rightly
improved; ‘For ye know not when the
Master calleth, at midnight, or at cock-
crowing.’
day is great, and calls for more than ordin- ~
ary. O be oft at the throne, and give him
no rest to make sure your soul’s interest.


Dear friends, the work of the
|
t
Seek pardon freely, and then he will come
with peace; seek all the graces of his
Spirit, the grace of love, the grace of holy
fear and humility. O l but there is much
need of this and the promised Spirit.
“Now, I desire to salute you, dear
friends in the Lord Jesus Christ, both
prisoned, banished, widow and fathcrless,
or wandering and cast out for Christ’s sake
and the gospel’s; even the blessings of
Christ’s sufferings be with you all, strength~
en, establish, support and settle you, and
the blessing of Him who was in the bush,
which while it burnt, was not consumed;
and my poor blessing be with. you all.
Now, as to my persecutors, Iforgive all of
them,-—instigators, reproachers, soldiers,
privy council, justiciaries, apprehenders,
in what they have done to me; but
what they have done in despite against
the image of God’s name in me, who am
a poor thing without that, it is not mine
to forgive them; but I wish they may
seek forgiveness of him who hath it to
give, and would do no more wickedness.
“ Now I leave my poor sympathizing wife
and six small children upon the Almighty
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, who hath
promised to be ‘a Father to the fatherless
and a husband to the widow, and the or-
phan’s stay ; be thou all in all unto them, O
Lord. Now, the blessing of God, and my
poor blessing, be with them. And my suit
to Thee is, that thou wouldst give them thy
salvation. And now farewell wife and
children ; farewell all friends and relations;
farewell all worldly enjoyments; farewell
sweet Scriptures, preaching, praying, read-
ing, singing, and all other duties. Wel-
come, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I desire
to commit my soul to thee in well-doing,
—Lord receive my spirit.
Sic sub—JOHN PAToN.”













xxx-‘arr’: - Jv PL“?
-, _
,—
.1
7 ,J b , . 5 . .
A __ .-
e_ -
t
a _, Q -
i c 0
a
e- .
ROBERT BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD.
571



ROBERT BAILLIE 0F JERVISWOOD.

DISTINCT altogether from the sufferings he
endured, Mr Baillie of Jerviswood is justly

rested, and without a warrant, by a captain
Carstairs, one of the most devoted instru-
entitled to the remembrance of posterity, l ments of the then administration,hethought
on account of his highly respectable rank,
and his distinguished talents and virtues.
He was born of an ancient and honourable
family—a family long known as the sup-
porters of civil and religious liberty; and of
this family he proved himself, for the time,
no unworthy representative.
mony of some of his most illustrious con~
temporaries proves him to have been one of
the best men and greatest statesmen of
his time.
This, however, so far from blunting the
sword of persecution, or defending him
from its stroke, only pointed him out as an
object the more proper, because the more
prominent, for the malice and fury of those
who, in the period referred to, were waging
That he
fell a sacrifice, indeed, to persecuting intol-
erance, and died a martyr to the principles 1
war against liberty and religion.
of Reformation, to his zeal against poperv, l
The testi- ‘
;
it his duty to interpose for his rescue. For
this he was immediately called before the
council, and upon giving them an account
l-of the affair, would have been immediately
l
I
saved from all farther trouble on account
1 of it, but that the infamous Sharp declared,


and arbitrary power, there is not the least ,
reason to doubt.
In common with many others of his rank
and station, he had long been an object of
suspicion to the reigning party.
|
l
l
turbed by parties of soldiers, despatched in ;'
pursuit of presbyterians. And in short it
His fam- ' ‘
ily had frequently been harassed and dis~ '-
that if Carstairs were not supported, and
J erviswood made an example of, there
would be no prosecuting of the fanatics.
On the next council day, therefore, J ervis-
wood was fined £500, and kept four
months in prison before he was released.
He was not again molested, till August,
1684, when he was prosecuted for being
concerned in the Rye-house Plot. He

appeared that a pretext was all that was ,
wanting, to bring this excellent man to?
trouble, and even to death. Such a pre- 0
text was unfortunately at length given, by
his generous interference in behalf of a
distressed and persecuted relative, the Rev.
Mr Kirkton.
i
l late prosecution, and had taken a part in
l
l


[The Rye-house._.
had gone to England, some time after his
' the plans whlch were proposed by the pa-
Being in Edinburgh in June, 1676, and , triots of that country, to emancipate Bri-
hearing that Mr Kirkton was illegally ar- ;tain from the galling despotism under




572
SCOTS WORTHIES.







which it lay. By what means he was dis-
covered and apprehended we have not as-
certained. Certain it is, however, that he
then appeared in a dying condition; and
had the commissioners spared him only a
few weeks longer, they would have escaped
the indelible blot of inhumanity which
adheres to them, as having brought him to
a violent and ignomiuious death. He was
carried to the bar in his night-gown, at-
tended by his sister, who sometimes gave
him cordials ; and not being able to stand
was obliged to sit. His indictment bore,
in general, his carrying on a correspondence
to debar his royal highness, the king’s only
brother, from the right of succession. He
was ordered to purge himself by oath,
which he refused. The court fined him in
£6000. It might have been thought that
when he was fined in this large sum he had
received his final sentence ; but he was still
kept shut up in prison, and denied all at-
tendance and assistance. Bishop Burnet
tells us, that the ministers of state were
most earnestly set on Baillie’s destruction,
though he was now in so languishing a
condition. that if his death would have
satisfied the malice of the court, it seemed
to be very near. He further says, that all
the while he was in prison, he seemed so
composed and cheerful, that his behaviour
looked like the reviving of the spirit of the
noblest of the old Greeks or Romans, or
rather of the primitive Christians, and first ,
martyrs in those best days of the church.
But the duke who was then commissioner
was not satisfied with all this, so he was
brought before the council on the 23d of
December, to be tried capitally. Here it
is needless to enter into a minute detail of
the trial. Sutfice it to say that every mean
was resorted to, whether legal or not, to en-
sure his conviction, an object which it was
not difficult to accomplish before such‘
judges. Among other things, the deposi_
tion of Mr W'illiam Carstairs—not the


captain Carstairs formerly mentioned,—
which was given by him after an hour’s
torture by the thumbkinsf“ and which he
. It“ \\
an





Piwés-


“7‘7'_._
.2 II‘’? j, /"‘_//
[The Thumlikins]
expressly provided should not be employed
in proof, was nevertheless pled against him.
* The thumbkins, or thumbikens, as the name im-
ports, was an instrument applied to the thumbs in
such a way as to enable the executioner to squeeze
them violently; and this was often done with so
much force, as to bruise the thumb bones, and swell
the arm up to the shoulders. The thumbikens used
in torturing Principal Carstairs was an iron instru-
ment fastened to the table with a screw. the upper
part of the instrument being squeezeddown upon
the thumbs by means of another screw, which
the executioner turned at the command of his em-
ploycrs.
“ It has been very generally asserted," says Dr
.lamieson, “ that part of the cargo of the invincible
Armada was a large assortment of‘ thumbikens,
which it was meant should be employed as power-
ful arguments for convincing the heretics. Lord
Fountaiuhall, in his chronological notes, H384, says,
“that Spence, Argyle’s servant, was again tortured
with the thumbikens, a new invention, and discov-
ered by generals Dalziel and Drummond, who saw
them used in Muscovy." Burnet, in his account
of the torturing ol' Spence, says, “he was struck in
the boots and continued firm. Then a new species
of torture was invented; he was kept from sleep
eight or nine nights. They grew weary of man-
aging this; so a third species was invented; little
screws of steel were made use of, that screwed the
thumbs with so exquisite a torment, that he
sunk under it." The novelty of the instrument.




ROBERT BAILLIE
OF JERVISWUOD. 573




When Mackenzie, the king’s advocate, had
done with his charge, Baillie made a most
impressive answer. Among other things
he said, “ There is one thing which vexes
me most extremely, and wherein I am in-
jured to the utmost degree, and that is, for a
plot to cut off the king and his royal high-
ness, and that I sat up all nights to form a
declaration to‘ palliate or justify such a
villany. I am in probability to appear in
some hours before the tribunal of the great
Judge; and in presence of your lordships,
and all here, I solemnly declare, that I was
never prompted or privy to any such thing,
and that I abhor and detest all thoughts
and principles for touching the life and
blood of his sacred majesty, or his royal
brother.” Then looking directly to Mac-
kenzie, he said, “ My lord, I think it very
strange you charge me with such abomi-
nable things ; you may remember when you
came to me in prison, you told me such
things were laid to my charge, but you did
not believe them. How then, my lord,
in Scotland at least, is put beyond doubt by an act
of the privy council this year, 1684, quoted by
\Vodrow: —“VVhereas there is now a new invention
and engine called the thumbikens, which will be
very effectual, &c., &c., his majesty's council do
therefore ordain, &c., 8zc,;" and we see no reason to
question the accuracy of lord Fountainhall’s account
both of the country whence, and the persons by
whom, this “ exquisite" and “ effectual” engine was
imported.
There is an anecdote told of King William and
Principal Carstairs in the fifth vol. of the Statisti-
cal Account ofScotlantk-“I have heard, Principal,
“that you were tortured with something they call
thumbikens; pray what sort ofan instrument is it ?"


came you to lay such a stain upon me with
Are you now convin-
ced in your own conscience, that I am more
guilty than before ?—you may remember
what passed betwixt us in the prison.”
The whole audience fixed their eyes upon
the advocate, who was in no small confu-
sion, and said, “ Jerviswood, I own what
you say; my thoughts then were as a pri-
vate man, but what I say here, is by the
special direction of the privy council ;”
and pointing to Mr William Paterson the
clerk, added, “ He knows my orders.”
J erviswood replied, “ Well, if your lordship
has one conscience for yourself, and am
so much violence?
other for the council, I pray God forgive
you ; I do.” Then turning to the justice-
general he said, “ My lord, I trouble your
lordship no further.”
Next morning, the 24th of December,
the Jury brought him in guilty; and the
lords condemned him to be hanged at the
market-cross of Edinburgh, between two
and four o’clock that afternoon, his head to
be cut off and fixed on the Netherbow
port, and his body to be quartered; one of
the quarters to be put on the tolbooth of
Jedburgh, another on that of Lanark, a
third on that of Ayr, and a fourth on that
of Glasgow. When the sentence was
passed, he said, “ My lords, the time "is
short, the sentence is sharp, but I thank
my God who hath made me as fit to die
as you are to live.” He was then sent
back to his apartment in the prison, and,
leaning on the bed, he fell into a rapture at
the assured prospect of a blessed eternity.
Being asked after a short silence how
he did, he answered, “ Never better, and in
a few hours, I shall be well beyond all con-
ception. They are going to send me in
“I will show ityou," rcpliedthe Principal,“thenext
time we meet." On the fulfilment of his promise,
“I must try them,” said the king, and placing his
thumbs in proper places, ordered the Principal to
turn the screws :-—-“O not so gently !-—an0ther,—- r
another,_Stop, stop! No more! another turn, I
am afraid, would make me confess anything."
however, in the year 1690. by this same king’s
warrant, put to the torture of the thumbikens ;
without making any disclosures.
instance ofits being used in Scotland.
, pieces and quarters; they may hack and
Neville Payne, accused of a Jacobite plot, was, .
but .
This is the last ;
hew my body as they please, but I know
assuredly nothing shall be lost, but that all
these my members shall be wonderfully
; gathered, and made like Christ’s glorious


PM
SCOTS WORTHIES.


body!” During the few hours he had to
live, his carriage and behaviour were most
becoming and christian. At his execution
he was in the greatest serenity of soul
possible, for a person on this side of heaven,
though extremely low in body. He was
not able to go up the ladder without sup-
port ;—when on it he began to say, “ My
faint zeal for the protestant religion has
brought me to this ;”——but the drums inter-
He had prepared a speech to
be delivered at the scaffold, but was hin-
dered; however, he left copies of ‘it with his
rupted him.
friends; and we insert some hints from it.
“ As for my principles with relation to gov-
ernment,’7 said he, “ they are such as I
ought not to be ashamed of, being conso-
nant to the word of God, and Confession
of Faith of the Reformed churches. I die
a member of the Church of Scotland, as it
was constituted in its best and purest times.
I bless God this day I know in whom I
have believed, and to whom I have com-
mitted my soul, as a faithful keeper. I
know I am going to my God, and my chief
joy. My soul blesseth God, and rejoiceth
in him, that death cannot separate between
me and my God. I leave my wife and
childrenaie upon the compassionate and
merciful heart of my God, having many re-
iterated assurances that God will be my
God, and the portion of mine. I bless and
adore my God, that death for a long time
hath been no terror to me, but rather much
desired; and that my blessed Jesus hath
taken the sting out of it, and made the
grave a bed of roses to all that have laid
hold on him by faith which worketh by love.
I have had sharp sufferings for a consider-
able time, and yet I must say to the com-
mendation of the grace of God, my suffer-
ing time hath been my best time; and when
* Nine children.

my sufferings have been sharpest, my spir-
itual joys and consolations have been great-
est. Let none be afraid of the cross of
Christ; his cross is our greatest glory: wo
be to them that are instrumental to banish
Christ out of the land! And blessed are
they who are instrumental by a gospel con-
versation, and continual wrestling with
God, to keep Christ in the nation; he is the
glory of a land, and if we could but love
him, he would not part with us. ‘No he
to them that would rather banish Christ
out of the land than love him! God pour
out his Spirit plenteously on his poor rem-
nant, that they may give God no rest, till
he make Jerusalem the joy and praise of
the whole earth. I have no more time;
but they who love Christ, I hope have
minded me in my affliction, and do mind
me now, and will mind my wife and chil-
dren. Igo with joy to Him who is the
joy and bridegroom; to Him who is the
Saviour and Redeemer of my soul. I go
with rejoicing to the God of my life, to my
portion and inheritance, to the husband of
my soul. Come, Lord !”
The character of this gentleman was
very high. Dr Owen, who was acquainted
with him, said to a friend, “ you have truly
men of great spirits in Scotland,—there is
for a gentleman, Mr Baillie of J erviswood,
a person of the greatest abilities I ever met
with.” And, said Bishop Burnet, giving
an account of him, “thus a learned and
worthy gentleman after twenty months’
hard usage, was brought to such a death,
in a way so full, in all the steps of it, of the
spirit and practice of the courts of the in-
quisition, that one is tempted to think,
that the steps taken in it were suggested
by one well studied, if not practised in
them.”




JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.





JOHN BROWN or PRIESTHILL.

THE farm of Priesthill is situated in the
parish of Muirkirk, and district of Kyle, in
Ayrshire; and, about a hundred and sixty
years ago, was possessed by John Brown,
commonly called the Christian Carrier.
His house, which stands to this day,f
is on the brow of a hill, behind which rises
an extensive tract of heath, moss-bags, and
rocks, some of which command a view of
several counties. The house is of stone
and lime, and is covered with heather.
The inside must have been comfortable .
according to the taste of the time; and
John Brown had it respectably furnished,
for a. person of his rank. But wealthy
farmers and graziers of the present day
would scarcely call it comfortable. It had
no grate; the fire was burned on the floor;
and having no openings in the wall, the
smoke rose tardily to the chimney top.
Yet dark and smoky as it was, many had
found it a little sanctuary; not only for
refuge, but for God’s presence.
Though simple in their habits and fur—
niture, the inhabitants of these wild districts
were well informed; even their children
took an interest in everything that was
going on in Scotland, and read the same
books as their fathers did.
John was only a boy when upwards of

bath their ministers preached their farewell
sermons. It was heart-rending to part
with such men, so remarkable for grace,
and eminent for gifts; many of them learn-
ed, and all of them singularly dear to their
people. “ None of them were scandalous,
insufficient, or negligent, and the fruits of
their ministry were everywhere conspi-
cuous. One might have travelled many
miles without hearing an oath; and could
rarely lodge in a house where God was not
worshipped. Iniquity, ashamed, hid its
head. But what a dreadful reverse was
felt when prelacy was introduced by ar-
bitrary means! It was like king Saul’s
change, a bad spirit after a good.”*
The whirlwind of persecution carried
the seeds of salvation where the influence
of the Reformation had not reached. The
Scottish border, proverbial for freebooters
or robbers, felt the divine effects of the
banished ministersf They were there
harboured without fear or dread of laws,
and kindly entertained. The inhabitants
of the heath-covered moors, and the distant
isles of the sea were made glad, and blos-
somed as the rose. Thus, the scattering
of the ministers made new inroads upon
Satan’s kingdom. The gospel flourished,
though driven fi'om temples made with
three hundred ministers were deposed, in l hands. Many date their conversion from
one day, by Charles the Second; because i the glad tidings they heard in these wilds,
they, in conscience, could not, or would not, i saying with the Psalmist, “Lo ! we heard
submit that the Church should be lorded of thee at Ephratah, we found thee in the
over by bishops.
distress that prevailed in the country on
that occasion, and the anguish and weep-
ing throughout the churches, on the sab—
From subsequent information it would appear
that the present house is of more modern date.
l
H9 OftQII described the l field of the wood.”
It was from these banished ministers
* Wodrow.
fr Mr Gabriel Semple, and Mr John \Velsh,
the grandson of Knox, planted churches that flour-
I ish to this day.


SCOTS WORTHIES.





that John received his superior education.
He was intended for the Church, had not
an uncommon difficulty of expressing his
sentiments to strangers prevented him from
prosecuting his studies. But what was
strange, in prayer he was gifted in an ex~
traordinary measure. In such scriptural
language did he pour forth his soul, and
at the same time with such variety, fluency,
and affection, that he appeared like one
Many have a gift of prayer
whose lives bespeak them far from the
superhuman.
kingdom of heaven. Such was not Priest-
hill.
prudent; so much so, that he was intrust-
His actions with men were just and
cd, when a very young man, with the pro-
duce of the neighbouring shepherds, to
carry to market and dispose of, and bring
back what they required in return. In
this capacity he got the name of the
Christian Carrier, and was often the
first that brought them tidings of the mis-
chief that was framed by law against the
Presbyterians. ,
He was merely a youth at the rising of
Pentland; and, not having been either at
the battle of Drumclog or Bothwell, he
could evade with ease the insnaring ques-
tions that every traveller was required to
answer; by which means he passed to and
fro unmolested,—although he did not attend
the curate of Muirkirk, who was a silly,
easy creature, and did not make so many
complaints of his parishioners as some did.
John’s good education was not lost.
Besides being a source of enjoyment to
himself, it was a benefit to the youth for
miles around him, who were then much
neglected. To counteract the bad exam-
ple of the wicked who then walked on every
side, when vile men were high in place,
every Monday night he met with these
young persons, and instructed them from
the Bible and the Confession of Faith. In
summer they assembled in a sheepi-bught,
and in winter they formed a circle

around a large fire of peat and cannel-coal,
that blazed in the middle of the spencc-
floor. The effects of the substantial infor-
mation these rustics got, is felt to this day
in that neighbourhood. Our Worthy was
not alone in this good work; David and
William Steel were helpmates.
It was about the year 1680, that Priest-
hill get acquainted with Isabel Weir, in
the parish of Sorn; she was a very supe-
rior woman, though her disposition was the
very reverse of his; she was lively and jo-
cular, and could cheer up his grave counte-
nance till he was as animated as herself.
She saw him often ; for he had frequently
business to transact with her father, when
he passed to and from Ayr. They often
talked of Zion’s trouble; and what was
remarkable, when he sought her in mar-
riage, he told her he felt a foreboding in his
mind that he would one day be called to
seal the Church’s testimony with his blood.
After this, the Indulged ministers had
gone so far in the course of defection, that
the more conscientious sufferers had none
they could hear, after the death of Cameron
and Cargill. They resolved to form them-
selves into societies, to meet quarterly, of
members delegated from their weekly pray-
er-meetings. The second of these quarterly
meetings took place at Priesthill, February,
1682, where they made a contribution to
send a young man to Holland, to be licen-
sed as preacher to them. The fruits of
this brought forward Mr Renwick, of glo-
rious memory.
About two months after this, Priesthill
was married by Mr Peden, who happened
to be in Kyle baptizing children. The
marriage took place in a glen near the
house. When Isabel and her company
arrived at the spot, they were surprised at
the assembly gathered. Mr Peden wel-
comed her and said :—“These are to be wit-
nesses of your vows; they are all friends,
and have come at the risk of their lives to


JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.
577




hear God’s word, and to countenance his
ordinance of marriage.”
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I John had, by a. former Wife, a little
Igirl about five years of age, who, on the
I ‘if l f ' ‘h, ‘“ "I
a.» W Q\)"L' ‘ \IvL/I 13/11" “Bl/WI ‘I ‘I ‘A l
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[A Covenantcr‘s .\I arriage. _!
morning after his marriage, lifted the latch I had them dished, covered with a clean
of the Spence-door, and finding Isabel alone
said, while she covered her face shily with
her arm, “ They say ye are my mother 3”
“What if I should be your mother ?” re-
plied Isabel. “ Naething, but if I thought
ye were my mother, I would like to come
in aside you a wee,” said Jennie, with art-
less simplicity. “ I hope I will be your
mother, my bairn, and that God will give
me grace to be so, and that you will be a
comfort to me and your father.” And she
\Vhen but a child she was a
She would
proved so.
help and pleasure to them.
watch her father’s return, and as soon as
she saw his pack-horse* at a distance,
coming along the bent, she would announce
the joyful tidings. Then the gudewifc
hasted, and made ready his milk porridge,
Carriers in those days were unacquainted with
the luxury of wheel-carts ; and there were no turn-
pikcs on which wheels could run.
cloth, and warm water to wash his weary
feet, a blazing fire, and a clean hearth; and
she and Janet would go out and welcome
him home, and help him off with his
horse’s load.
The domestic peace and comfort of
Priesthill are talked of even to this day.
Many anecdotes are told, and one among
the rest that illustrates the precept of
hospitality to strangers; for thereby some
have entertained angels unawares. The




‘ second year after his marriage, one night
in the beginning of winter, John had gone
{to a neighbour’s house; the family at
home were preparing the wool of their
‘,rflocks for hodden-gray cloth, to sell at
Lawrie’s fair in Hamilton. The shepherd
carded the black and white wool together
lfor the women to spin; Janet and the
herd boy were teasing for the carder; the
"I gudewife sat nursing her firstborn son at
—___
4 n
578
SCOTS WORTHIES.


one side of the fire, when the dog, which
lay at full length at the other, started up
and ran to the door, barking at the ap-
proach ‘of a stranger. Isabel thought it
would be her husband returned, and was
about to rise to meet him. Janet and the
herd were almost as soon at the door as
the dog, and calling to him, “ Whisht,
Collie, whisht, you mu’na speak to the un-
co man.” The herd caught the dog in his
arms and returned with him into the house,
while Janet followed, leading a stranger,
first looking to her mother for encourage-
ment, and then to her guest. She led him
to her father’s chair with a courtesy that
seemed to give rise to strong emotions in
his heart.
The stranger was young in years, of a
little stature, and fine fair countenance ;but
he was pale with fatigue and sickness. His
shoes were worn out; a shepherd’s plaid
hung round him, seemingly for disguise ; for
by his dress and speech he seemed of a
superior rank. While the servants gazed
on him, the gudewife did not know whether
she should welcome him as a sufferer, or
consider him as a spy; so she left Janet to
perform the kind offices which the stranger
required, while she lulled her boy to sleep,
by singing a verse of an old song.
While the gudewife sang, the stranger’s
face brightened up, and he more cheerfully
accepted the child’s endearing attentions,
who placed him in the warmest corner,
helped him off with his dripping plaid, imi-
tating all the kind offices she had seen her
mother perform to her father, to the no
small amusement of the rest of the family.
On the stranger it had a different effect.
He burst into tears, and cried, “ May the
blessing of him that is ready to perish rest
upon you, my dear bairn ! Surely God has
heard my cry, and provided me a place to
rest my head for a night. O that I had
in the wilderness a lodging-place of way-
faring men, that I might leave my people


and go from them; for they be an assembly
of treacherous men.”
Just as he had finished, Priesthill entered.
He gazed on him, and with great deference
bade him welcome to his house. “ Do you
know me?” said the stranger. “ I think I
do,” said John. “ It was in this house
that the Societies met that contributed to
send you to Holland, and now I fear they
have not received you—at least some of
them—as they ought.” “ Their reproach
has not broken my heart,” said Mr Ren-
wickff—for it was he, though he was not
named before the family,—-“but the exces-
sive travelling, night-wanderings, unseason-
able sleep, frequent preaching in all weath-
ers, especially in the night, has so debili-
tated me, that I am unfit often for my
work.” '
Every one of the family now strove to do
him some kindness. The shepherd brought
him clean hose and shoes; the herd his
new night-cap; the lasses left their wheels
and washed his feet ; the gudewife prepared
him a warm supper, while little Janet,
worn out, was fast asleep at his side.
In those days, hospitality was with many
in reality what it ought to be, purely exer-
cised for God’s glory, and without display
of grandeur. The motives were like silver
tried; it was at the risk of all, even life.
Hence the joy of such pure intercourse was
sweet beyond description. As iron sharpen-
eth iron, so doth the face of man his friend.
Renwick and Priesthill. talked of the suf-
ferings of the Church, her testimony, her
covenanted cause, and her ultimate triumph.
Yes, they had more comfort in the faith
that Christ would one day be Head over
all things, King of kings, and Lord of lords,
than the wicked have, when corn and wine
do most abound.
Soon after Mr Renwick left Priesthill,
* The last who suffered death in Scotland for
the sake of truth and a good conscience. He was
executed at Edinburgh, Feb. 17th, 1688.


JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.
579



his followers and he published their Apo-
logetic Declaration. Mr Renwick was at
first averse to the measure, but at last
agreed.
The society that met at Priesthill was
soon broken up. John Wilson, and John
Smith, of Lesmahagow, were shot by colonel
Buchan and the laird of Lee, in February,
1685. John Brown of Blackwood, in the
same parish, was shot in the beginning of
March following, by lieutenant Murray,
after the promise of quarter.
After this, Priesthill could not continue
his business of carrier, though he had no
hand in the Apologetic Declaration. His
opinion—and his conduct was consistent
with it—was, that he ought to live as in
an enemy’s country, and without sin. Yet
he was often obliged to betake to the high
lands of Kyle, and of Lanarkshire, and to
bear the chilling cold of March and
April winds, with the more bitter blast of
persecution. .
On one of those days, when driven
from his home, he fled for refuge to a deep
ravine, or moss-hag, that had been formed
by the current of a water-spout, carrying
shrubs, soil, moss, and all before it, to the
dale land beneath, leaving a frightful chasm,
amidst a vast field of heath. Its deep
mossy sides made it inaccessible to stran-
gers; only the neighbouring husbandmen
knew where the brackens hid the rocks,
whose shelvy sides conducted to the bottom.
In the sides of this natural alley were dens
and caves, sufficient to hide a large com-
pany. In one of these Priesthill intended
to spend the day in prayer, and had be-
gun to pour out his soul in the words of
Lamentations 40, and downward,
when a sweet sound reached his ear, that
iii.
seemed to proceed from another part of
the moss-hag.
“ It is the hallowed sound of praising;
God, and by some fellow-sufferers ;” said‘
John, as he rose from his knees to search .
them out; and to his no small joy found
out David and \Villiam Steel, his neigh-
bours, and Joseph Wilson, from Lesmaha~
gow, in the cleft of a rock that jutted half-
way into the ravine. David Steel had a
narrow escape the day before this. When
just about to begin the morning worship,
one cried out, “ There is the enemy com-
ing !” He arose with the Bible under his
arm, and, without knowing what he was
about, went into the byre, and laid himself
down in an empty cow-stall, putting the
Bible on his breast. His wife, equally un~
conscious, turned over him a heap of bed
ding, just as the soldiers entered the place.
They stabbed the straw where he lay, but
the Bible received the point of the sword,
and they left the house without finding
their victim. William Steel’s house was
near at hand, and was also searched. His
wife had locked him in her clothes-press.
After they searched every place without
success, and had left the house, a soldier
returned, and said to the gudevvife, “ Mis-
tress, next time you hide, hide better; part
of your husband’s coat is locked without
your press ;’7 and with these words he left
her, to join his company. After he was
gone, to her amazement she found it as
the soldier had said.
William Steel, who escaped death from
the persecutors, and lived many years after
the Revolution, said often, if ever there
was a time in his life that he would wish
to enjoy over again, it was that in which
he suffered persecution ; especially that day
and night he spent in the moss-hag. ,
Among the last of the needy adventurers
of Charles II.’s reign, who could swim
through the blood of their more conscien-
tious countrymen to favour and emolu-
ment, was Graham of Claverhouse. “ He
was descended from the house of Montrose,
and was educated in France, the best school
for dissolute manners and cruelty. He
fought against the French in the Low


SCOTS WORTHIES.



Countries, under the Prince of Orange,
but being refused the command of one of
the Scottish regiments then in the Dutch
service, he left it in disgust and came over
to England. His dissolute manners and.
vivacity soon got him notice at court, and
the command of a party of Highlanders.”
H is first appearance on the stage of Scot-
land’s tragedy was in 1678, taking fi~ee
quarters for himself and men in the house
of Gilbert M‘Michen, in New Glenluce;
and when they went off, besides what they
consumed, they took with them three
horses, worth ten pounds each. In every
succeeding appearance he may be marked
as rising in cruelty and exaction.
Charles being now dead, James, duke
of York, required such instruments to com-
pel submission to his system of cruelty.
Having now thrown off the mask, the sus-
picion of the Reformers, that Prelacy was
to be handmaid to the introduction of Pop-
cry in Scotland, was verified. For that
purpose he enlarged the commission of
Claverhouse, and created him Viscount of
Dundee.
“ The measure of fixing garrisons of sol--
diers through the south and west counties,
as if Scotland had been invaded by a for-
eign enemy, was the beginning of many
cold-blooded murders in the field. One of
these garrisons was fixed at Lesmahagow.”
Claverhouse came unexpectedly there, late
on the last night of April, 1685,and having
heard of J ohn’s piety and non-conformity,
by six o’clock next morning he was at
Priesthill,--a proof how he thirsted after
the blood of such men.
As usual, John had risen with the
dawn, and had offered up the morning sac-
rifice. After worship, the good man went
to the hill to prepare some peat-ground;
the servants were also out, but at some
distance, when Claverhouse surrounded the ;
helpless man with three troops of dragoons,
and brought him down to his own house.

i
l
l
l
l
i
He left his implements of industry with
great composure, and walked down be-
fore them more resembling a leader than
a captive.
Meanwhile Janet had alarmed her mo-
ther by telling her that a great many horse-
men were coming down the hill with her
father. “ The thing that I feared is come
upon me; O give me grace for this hour I”
said her mother, hastily taking up her boy,
and wrapping him in her plaid, and taking
Janet by the hand, she went on to meet
her foes, praying in secret as she went.
The leisurely way of examining persons
by law, in which there was some semblance
of justice, was now departed from. Cla-
verhouse simply asked him why he did
not attend the curate, and if he would
pray for king James? He said he acknow-
ledged only Christ as supreme Head of
the Church, and could not attend the
curates, because they were placed there
contrary to His law.
Upon hearing this, Claverhouse said:
—“ Go to your prayers, for you shall im-
mediately die,” which he did in such a
manner as filled the troops with amaze-
ment. On his family it had. a different
effect. His wife, who was great with
child, with another in her arms, and
Janet at her side, stood while he prayed
“that every covenanted blessing might be
poured upon her and her children, born
and unborn, as one refreshed by the in-
fluence of the Holy Spirit, when he
comes down like rain upon the mown
grass, as showers upon the earth.”
When Claverhouse could bear his pray-
ers no longer, and had succeeded, after in—
terrupting him twice with the most blas-
phemous language, to raise him from his
knees, John said to his wife :—“ Isabel, this
is the day [told you of before we were
married ;” and added, with his usual kind-
ness, “you see me summoned to appear in
a few minutes before the court of heaven,



JOHN BROWN OF PRIESTHILL.
58]




as a witness in our Redeemer’s cause,
against the ruler of Scotland. Are you
willing that I should part from you r?”
“ Heartily willing,” said she, in a voice
that spoke her regard for her husband, and
her submission to the Lord, even when he
called her to bow before His terrible
things. “ That is all I wait for; 0 death,
Where is thy sting? O grave, where will
be thy victory?” said John, while he
tenderly laid his arms around her, kissed
her and her little boy, and lastly Janet,
saying to her :—“ My sweet bairn, give
your hand to God as your guide, and be
your mother’s comfort!” He could add
no more; a tide of tenderness overflowed
his heart. At last he uttered these words,
“ Blessed be thou, O Holy Spirit, that
speaketh more comfort to my heart than .

the voice of my oppresors can speak terror
to my ears 1” Thus, when the Lord brought
his witness to be tried, he discovered such
a magnanimity, that, as he fell, he con-
quered his persecutors.
If, in the Christian’s life, there is a light
that discovers the spots of the wicked; so,
in the martyr’s heroic grappling with death,
there was a heat that scorched past en-
during. It was doubtless under this feel-
ing that Claverhouse ordered six of his dra-
goons to shoot him, ere the last words were
out of his mouth; but his prayers and con—
duct had disarmed them from performing
such a savage action. They stood motion-
less. Fearing for their mutiny, Claver-
house snatched a pistol from his own belt,
and shot him through the head. a“ * *
And, while his troops slunk from the awful

(Death of John Brown of Przesthilt]
scene, he, like a beast of prey that tramples
and howls over a fallen victim, insulted the
tender-hearted wife. while she gathered up
the shattered head, by taunting jeers ;
" W'hat thinkest thou of thy husband now,
woman T’” “ I ever thought meikle good
of him,” said she, “ and now more than

.‘9
ever. He, seeing her courage, said, “ It
were but justice to lay thee beside him.”
She replied, “ If ye were permitted, I doubt
not your cruelty could go that length ; but
how will ye answer for this morning’s
work '2” \Vith a countenance that belied
his words, he answered, “ To men I can


582
SCOTS WORTHIES.



be answerable, and as for GodI will take
him in my own hands.” Thus saying, he
hastily put spurs to his horse, and left her
with the corpse. She tied up his head
with her napkin, composed his body, cover--
ed it with her plaid, and, when she had no-
thing further to do or contend with, sat
down on the ground, drew her children to
her, and wept over her mangled husband.
The mourners of Priesthill did not long
want friends. The report of the foul deed
circulated rapidly, creating dismay and ab-
horrence. Who now could think them-
selves safe, when John Brown was thus
treated, who was not otherwise obnoxious
to government than in not attending a
curate several miles distant? The first
who arrived on the spot was David Steel’s
wife, one well fitted to comfort in the most
trying dispensation. She ran up to the
group, and throwing her arms around them,
saluted Isabel thus, “ Wow, woman! and
has your master been taken from your
head this day; and has God taken you
, and your children under his own care, say-
ing, ‘I will be a husband to the widow, and
a father to the fatherless ‘.3’ No wonder
though ye were overcome and astonished
at his doings.” This salutation aroused
and strengthened the widow. She remem-
bered the words of Mr Peden, and she
arose from the ground to search out the '
linen he had warned her to prepare.
About this time David Steel, and William
Steel with his wife, arrived, and assisted
Isabel to bring in and wrap up the pre-
cious dust. All was done, while the silence
of death reigned over the household.
As was said of the proto-martyr Stephen,
devout men carried him to his burial. In
like manner was John Brown carried forth
and laid in his grave, on the very spot
where he fell.
The poor widow of Priesthill and her
children did inherit the earth, and had a
name long after that of her oppressors was
not—About fifty years ago a gentleman,
riding to Edinburgh, fell into conversation
with a respectable-looking countrywoman
on the road, and learning that she was a
grand-daughter of John Brown, he on that
account made her ride behind him into the
city. So much was the memory of the
Christian Carrier respected. And what
was a proof ‘of the harmony of his family,
she could not tell whether she was of the
first or second wife’s children. None of
them now reside at Priesthill; but their
house stands, and the broad flat stone that
covers the Martyr’s grave, is shown, with
this inscription :—
In death’s cold bed, the dusty part herelies
Of one who did the earth as dust despise:
Here in this place from earth he took departure ;
Now he has got the garland of the martyr.
Butcher’d by Clavers and his bloody band,
Raging most rav’nously o’er all the land,
Only for owning Christ's supremacy,
Wickedly wrong‘d by encroaching tyranny.
Nothing how near so ever he to good
Esteem’d, nor dear for any truth his blood.


JOHN NISBET
OF HARDHILL

JOHN NISBET was born about the year
and lineally descended from one Murdoch
Nisbet in Hardhill, who, about the year
I 1500, joined those called the Lollards of
1627. He was the son of James Nisbet,‘
} Kyle. When a persecution arose against
them, he fled over the seas, carrying with
lhim a copy of the New Testament in


JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
583



manuscript. Some time after, he re-
turned home, digged a vault below his
own house, into which he often retired;
there serving God, reading his new book,
and instructing such as had access to him.
When somewhat advanced in years,
Nisbet, having the advantage of being
tall, athletic and well formed in person,
of a bold and daring spirit, went abroad
and joined the army, which was of great
use to him afterwards. Having spent
some time in foreign countries, he return-
ed to Scotland, and swore the covenants,
when king Charles, at his coronation,
swore them at Scoone, in 1650. After this,
Nisbet, leaving the army, came home and
married one Margaret Law, who proved an
excellent wife, by whom he had several
children ; three of whom survived himself,
viz., Hugh, James, and Alexander.
In the month of December, 1688, his
wife died on the eighth day of her sickness,
and was buried in Stonehouse churchyard.
This behoved to be done in the night, that
it might be concealed; because no one
would do it, save such as were under hid-
ings during the day. The curate obtain-
ing knowledge of it, threatened to raise the
body, burn it, or cast it to the dogs; but
some of the persecuted party sent him a
letter, assuring him, that if he touched
these graves, they would burn him and his
family, and all he had ; so he forbore.
Nisbet early applied himself to the study
of the Holy Scriptures, which, through the
grace of God, was so effectual, that he not
only became well acquainted with the most
interesting parts of practical religion, but
also attained no small degree of knowledge
in points of principle, which proved of un-
speakable advantage to him in the after
part of his life, in maintaining the testi-
mony of that day.
He married again, and entered upon the
farm of Hardhill, in the parish of London,
in which station he behaved with much dis- ‘

cretion and prudence. No sooner did
prelacy and erastianism appear on the
field, in opposition to our ancient and laud-
able form of‘ church-government, at the
restoration of Charles II., than he joined
the Presbyterians. Having in 1664, got
a child baptized by one of the ejected
ministers,—as they were then called,——the
incumbent ‘or curate of the parish was so
enraged, that he declared his resolution
from the pulpit, to excommunicate Nisbet
next Lord’s day. But behold the Lord’s
hand interposed here ; for before that day
came the curate was in eternity.
This gentleman, being always active for
religion, and a great encourager of field—
meetings, was, with the rest of Christ’s
faithful witnesses, obliged to go without the
camp bearing his reproach. When that
faithful remnant assembled together and
renewed the covenant at Lanark, 1666, his
conscience summoned him out to join them
in that particular circumstance: which
being known, and threatened for such an
action, he resolved to follow these perse-
cuted people, and so kept with them in
arms till their defeat, upon the 28th of
November, at Pentland hills, at which
fight he.behaved with great courage and
resolution. He fought till he was so
wounded, that he was stripped for dead
among the slain; and yet such was the
providence of God, that he was preserved.
He had espoused Christ’s cause by de-
liberate choice, and was indeed of an ex-
cellent spirit ; and, as Solomon says, “ more
excellent than his neighbour,”-—-his natural
temper was likewise noble and generous.
As he was travelling through a moor, on
a snowy day, one of his old neighbours,
who was seeking sheep, met him, and cried
out, “ O Hardhill, are you yet alive? I
was told you were going in a pilgrim’s habit,
and that your bairns were begging; and
yet I see you look as well as ever!” Then
taking out a rix-dollar, he offered it to him



584
SCOTS WORTHIES.



Nisbet seeing this, took out a ducat, and
offered it to him, saying, “ I will have none
of yours, but will give you if you please;
for you may see that nothing is wanting to
him that fears the Lord, and I would never
have thought that you—calling him by his
name—would have gone so far with the
enemies of God, as to sell your conscience
to save your gear, &c. Take warning, H.,
go home and mourn for that, and all your
other sins, before God; for, if mercy do
not prevent, you will certainly perish.”
The poor man thanked him, put up his
money, and went home.
After this remarkable escape he returned
home, where probably be continued till the
year 1679. His fame for courage, wisdom,
and resolution, among the sufferers, when
that party who were assembled near Lou-
don-hill to hear the gospel, June 1, came
in view of an engagement with Claver-
house, who attacked them that day at
Drumclog, caused him to be sent for
by one Woodburn in the Mains of Lou-
don, to come to their assistance. But be-
fore they got half-way, they heard the pla-
toons of the engagement, and the action
was just terminating as they arrived. Upon
their approach, Hardhill—for so he was
commonly called—cried to them to jump
the ditch, and get over upon the enemy,
sword in hand; which they did with so
great resolution and success, that in alittle
they obtained a complete victory over the
enemy, in which Hardhill had no small
share, by his vigorous activity in the latter
end of that skirmish.
The suffering party, knowing now that
they were fully exposed to the rage and
resentment of their bloody persecuting foes,
resolved to abide together; and for that
purpose sent a party to Glasgow in pursuit
of the enemy, among whom was Hardhill.
After which, he continued with them, and
was of no small advantage to the honest
party, till that fatal day, June 22d, that

they fled and fell before the enemy at
Bothwell Bridge. Here, says W'odrow, he
was a captain, if I mistake not. And,
being sent with his party, along with those
who defended the bridge, he fought with
great gallantry, and stood as long as any
man would stand by him, and then made
his retreat just in time to escape.
After Bothwell, he was denounced a
rebel, and a large reward offered to such
as would apprehend him. At which time
the enemy seized all' that he had, stripped
his wife and four children turning them
out of doors, whereby he was brought to
the condition of those mentioned in Heb.
xi. 38: “ They wandered about in deserts
and in mountains, and in dens and caves
of the earth.” Thus he lived for near the
space of five years, suffering all manner of
hardships, not accepting deliverance, that
he might preserve to himself the free enjoy-
ment of the gospel, faithfully preachedin the
fields. And, being a man of apublic spirit,
a great observer of fellowship-meetings—
alas ! a duty too much neglected—and very
staunch upon points of testimony, he be-
came very popular among the more faithful
part of our sufferers, and was by them often
employed as one of their commissioners to
their general meetings, which they had es-
tablished some years before, that they
might the better understand the mind of
one another in carrying on a testimony in
that broken state.
One thing very remarkable was,-—on
the Sabbath night (being that day week
before he was taken,) as he and four more
were travelling, it being very dark, no wind,
but a thick small rain,—behold! suddenly
the clouds clave asunder towards east and
west, over their heads, and a light sprang
out beyond that of the sun, which last-
ed about the space of two minutes. They
heard a noise, and were much amazed,
saying one to another, What may that
mean? but Nisbet returned no answer


JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
585


only uttering three deep groans. One of
them asked him, what it might mean ? He
said, “We know not well at present, but
within a little we shall know better; yet we
have a more sure word of prophecy, unto
which we would do well to take heed ;”
and then he groaned again, saying, “ As
for me, I am ready to live or to die
for him, as He in his providence shall call
me to it, and bear me through in it;
and although I have suffered much from
prelates, and false friends, these twenty-
one years, yet now, I would not for a
thousand worlds I had done otherwise;
and if the Lord spare me, I will be more
zealous for his precious truths; and if not
I am ready to seal his cause with my blood,
for I have longed for it these sixteen years,
and it may be I will ere long get it to do.
Welcome be his will, and if he help me
through with it, I, shall praise him to all
eternity!” This made them all wonder, he
being a very reserved man; for, although
a strict observer of the Sabbath, a great
examiner of the Scripture, and a great
wrestler in prayer, yet so little was he ac-
customed to refer to his own case, that few
knew how it was with him, until he came
to prison.
All this and more could not escape the
knowledge of the managers, as is evident
from Earls ton’s answers before the council,
1683; and we find, that one of the arti-
cles that John Richmond suffered for, at
the cross of Glasgow, March 19, 1684, was
his being in company with Nisbet. This
made the search after him and other suf--
ferers more desperate.
month of November, 1683, having retired,
amongst other of his lurking-places, to‘
a certain house called Midland, in the‘
parish of Fenwick, where were assembled
for prayer and other religious exercises, on
a Saturday night, other three of his faith-
ful brethren, viz., Peter Gemmel, a young-
er brother of the house of Horsehill, in the ;
VVhereupon, in the 5

same parish; George Woodburn, a brother
of the \Voodburns, in the moors of London ;
and one John Fergushill from Tarbolton.
Upon notice that lieutenant Nisbet and
a party of colonel Buchan’s dragoons Were
out in quest of the Wanderers—as they
were sometimes called,—they resolved on
the Sabbath morning to depart. But old
John F ergushill, not being able to go by
reason of some infirmities, they were obli-
ged to turn back with him, after they had
gone a little way from the house, and were
the same day apprehended,—the way and
manner of which, with his answers both at
Ayr and before the council at Edinburgh,
as they stand in an old manuscript given in
his own hand, while he was their prisoner,
is as follows :-——
“ First, when the enemy came within sight
of the house—we seeing no way of escape-
John Fergushill went to the far end of the
house, and the other two and I followed.
And ere we were well at the far end of the
house, some of the enemy were in the house.
And then, in a little after, they came and
put in their horses, and went to and fro in
the house for more than an hour; and we
four still at the far end of the house ; and
we resolved with one another to keep close
till they should just come on us; and if it
had pleased the Lord to have hid us there,
we resolved not to have owned them; but
if they found us out, we thought to fight,
saying to each other, it was death at length.
They got all out of the house, and had their
horses drawn forth; but in a little they
came back,* tittling one to another; and
Here it was commonly said, that after the
enemy went off at first, they met with two persons,
one of whom told them, they were good seekers,
but ill finders, or somewhat to that purpose ; which
made them return. It has also been said, that one
of these men confessed this at his death. However
this be, people could not help observing, that not
many years ago three of the offspring of the other
person blamed, lost their lives by fire, near the
same place where these three gallant martyrs were


4 E
586
SCOTS WORTHIES.


at last cried for a candle to search the
house with; and came within a yard of us,
with a light in their hand. According to
our former resolution, we resisted them,
having only three shots, and one of them
misgiving, and they fired about twenty-four
at us; and when we had nothing else, we
clubbed our guns, till two of them were
quite broke, and then went in grips with
some of them; and when they saw they
could not prevail, they all cried, to go out.
and set fire to the house. Upon which
we went out after them, and I received six
wounds in the going out. After which,
they getting notice what I was, some of
them cried out to spare my life, for the
council had offered 3000 merks for me.
So they brought me towards the end of
the yard, and tied my hands behind my
back, having shot the other three to death.
He that commanded them scoffingly asked
me, What I thought of myself now? I
smiled, and said, I had full contentment
with my lot; but thought that I was at a
loss, that I was in time, and my brethren
in eternity. At which he swore, he had
reserved my life for a further judgment
to me. When we were going towards
Kilmarnock, the lieutenant,—who was a
cousin of my own,—called for me ; and he
and I went before the rest, and discoursed
soberly about several things. Iwas free in
telling him what I held to be sin, and
what. I held to be duty; and when we came
to Kilmarnock tolbooth, he caused slack
my hands a little, and inquired if I desired
my wounds dressed; and, at the desire of
some friends in the town, he caused bring
in straw and some clothes for my friend
John GemmeP“ and me to lie upon, but
killed. Whether it had any reference to that God
knoweth; we cannot determine. Only we may
say:—“ The Lord is known by the judgment he
executeth,” Ps. ix. 16.
it This John Gemmel was brother to the martyr ;
who was killed at Midland, and being lying of a .

would not suffer us to cast off our clothes.
On Monday, on the way to Ayr, he raged
against me, and said that I had the blood
of the three men on my head that were
killed yesterday; and that I was guilty of
and the cause of all the troubles that
were come on the poor barony of Cunning-
ham, first and last. But when we came
near the town, he called me out from the
rest, and soberly asked me, What he
should say to the superior officers in my
behalf ? I told him, that if the Lord would
keep me from wronging truth, I was at a
point already in what he put me to, as to
suffering. When we first entered the tol-
booth of Ayr, there came two, and asked
some things at me, but they were to little
purpose.- Then I was taken out with a
guard, and brought before Buchan. He
asked me, 1. If I was at the conventicle?
I told him, I looked upon it as my duty.
fever in a house in the same parish called Der-
wholling, he was that day apprehended by some of
the same party, together with Thomas Wylie,
and his son William, for reset. They were all taken
to Ayr, where the said Thomas Wylie died.
While in Ayr, it is said that John Gemmel dreamed
one night that he should be banished, and his fel-
low-sufferer Hardhill should be hanged ; which ac’
cordingly came to pass._They were taken to
Edinburgh, and examined, and the foresaid William
Wylie was asked to take the oath of allegiance,
but refused. They ordered him to take the test
oath; this he refused also. They asked his reasons.
He said, he had taken more oaths already than he
had well kept, and if there should come a change
of government, where stood he then? Bishop
Paterson's brother came, and clapping his hand on
his shoulder, said, Thomas, as sure as God is in
the heavens, you’ll never see a change of govern-
ment. But in this he proved a false prophet.
However, he and John Gemmel were, with eleven
more, banished to Barbadoes, and sold for slaves,
where they continued for about three years, and at
last purchased their liberty and returned home at
the Revolution. The first known person they saw,
after their landing at Irvine, was lieutenant Nisbet,
by whom they had been apprehended—It may be
interesting to the reader to know, that the above-
mentioned John Gemmel was great-grand-uncle
to Robert Pollok, author of the “ Course of Time.”



JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
.587





'_._.
and not to take up the accountof what men
were there. Where away went they?
I told him, It was more than I could tell.
4. Do you own the king? I told him,
while he owned the way and work of
God, I thought myself bound both to own
and fight for him; but when he quitted
the way of God, I thought I was obliged
to quit him. 5. Will you own the duke
of York as king? I told him, I would
not; for it was both against my principles
and the laws of the nation. 6. Were you
clear to join with Argyle? I said, No.
He held me long, and spake of many
things. We had the muster through
hands, popery, prelacy, presbyterianism,
malignants, defensive and offensive arms,
there being none in the room but he and I.
I thought it remarkable that all the time
from Sabbath to this present, I had
and have as much peace and quietness of"
mind as ever in my life. O help me to
praise him! for he alone did it. Now,
my dear friends and acquaintances, cease
not to pray for me while I am in the body ;
for I may say I fear nothing but that
through weakness I wrong the truth. And
my last advice is, that ye be more diligent
in following christian duties. Alas! that
I was not more sincere, zealous, and for-
ward, for his work and cause in my day.
Cease to be jealous one of another,
and only let self-examination be more
studied; and this, through his blessing,
shall open a door to more of a Christian
soul exercise, and keep away vain jang-
ling.
2. How many armed were there? I told ]
him, I went to hear the gospel preached, l

one acquainted with all that was done
amongst these rebellious persons ; therefore
the lords of his majesty’s privy council
would take it as a great favour, if I
would be free in telling them what I knew
that might most conduce to the peace and
security of the nation. I told them, that
when I came to particulars I should
speak nothing but truth, for I was more
afraid to lie than to die; but I hoped they
would be so far christians as not to bid
me tell anything that would burden my
conscience. Then they began thus:
1. What did ye in your meetings? I told
them, we only sung a part of a psalm, read
part of the Scriptures, and prayed time
about. 2. Why call ye them fellowship
and society meetings? I wonder why you
ask such questions, for these meetings were
called'so when our Church was in her
power. 8. Were there any such meetings
at that time ? There were in some places
of the land. 4. Did the ministers of the
place meet with them in these? Some-
times they did, and sometimes they did not.
5. What mean you by your general meet-
ings, and what do ye at them? While I
was thinking what to answer, one of them-
selves told them more distinctly than I
could have done; and jeeringly said, look-
ing to me, When they have done, then
they distribute their collections. 1 held
my peace all the time. 6. Where keep ye
these meetings? In the wildest moors we
can think of. 7. Will you own the king’s
authority? N o. 8. WVhat is your reason—
you own the Scriptures and your own Con~
fession of Faith? That I do with all my

l heart. 9. Why do ye not own the king’s
“ When I came to Edinburgh, I was the authority ?—naming several passages of
first night kept in the guard-house.
next night I was brought into their coun-
The f Scripture, and that in the 23d chapter of
the Confession. There is a vast difference;

oil-house, where were present lords Perth, ! for he being a Roman Catholic, and I
Linlithgow, and one bishop Paterson, j being not only brought up in the Presby-
with several others. They first said. terian principles from my youth, but also
to me, that they looked upon me as sworn against popery. 10. What is that


088
SCOTS WORTHIES.



__d-_
to you, though he be popish, he is not bid-
ding ‘you be a papist, nor hindering you to
live in your own religion? The contrary
does appear; for we have not liberty to
hear a gospel sermon, but we are taken,
put to the hardest of sufferings, and killed.
They said it was not so, for we might have
the gospel, if our wild principles would
suffer us to hear it. I said, they might
say so, but the contrary was well known
through the land; for ye banished away
our faithful ministers, and thrust in such
as live rather like profligates than like
ministers, so that poor things neither can
nor dare join with them. 11. Are ye clear
to join with Argyle? No. Then one of
them said, Ye will have no king but Mr
James Renwick, and asked, if I conver-
sed with any other minister upon the field
than Mr Renwick. I told them, I conver-
sed with no other; and a number of other
things passed that were to little purpose.
“ This is a true hint of any material
thing that passed betwixt them and me-
As for their drinking of healths, never one
of them spoke of it to me; neither did
any of them bid me pray for their king;
but they said that they knew I was that
much of a christian that I would pray for
all men. I told them I was bound to
pray for all; but prayer being instituted by
a holy God, who is the bearer of prayer,
no christian could pray when every profli-
gate bade him; and it was no advantage
to their cause to suffer such a thing.
“ How it may be afterwards with me 1
cannot say; for he is a free sovereign, and
may come and go as he pleases. But this
I say, and can affirm, that he has not
quarrelled with me since I was a prisoner,
but has always waited on to supply me
with such consolation and strength as my
necessity required; and now, when Ilean-
not lay down my own head, nor lift it
without help, yet of all the cases I ever
was in I had never more contentment. I

can now give the cross of Christ a noble
commendation. It was always sweet and
pleasant, but never so sweet and pleasant
as now. Under all my wanderings, and
all my toilings, a prison was so terrifying
to me that I could never have been so
sure as I would have been. But imme-
diately after my apprehension, he so shined
on me, and ever since, that he "and his
cross are to me far beyond whatever he
was before. Therefore, let none scare or
stand at a distance from their duty for fear
of the cross; for now I can say from expe-
rience, that it is as easy, yea, and more
sweet, to lie in prison in irons, than it is
to be at liberty. But I must forbear at
present.” .
Upon the 26th, he was ordered by the
council to be prosecuted before the justi-
ciary. Accordingly, on the 30th, he was
before the justiciary, and arraigned, his
own confession being the only proof against
him, which runs thus :——“ John Nisbet of
Hardhill, prisoner, confesses, when examined
before the council, that he was at Drum-
clog, had arms, and made use of them
against the king’s forces; that he was at
Glasgow; and that he was at a field-meet-
ing within these two months, betwixt
Eaglesham and Kilbride,” I &c.; which
being read, he adhered to, but refused to
subscribe it. The jury brought him in
guilty, and the lords sentenced him to be
executed at the Grassmarket, December 4:,
betwixt two and four in the afternoon, and
his lands, goods, and gear, to be forfeited to
the king.
It was inserted by the council in his
confession, that the reason why he could
not join with Argyle was, that one Cleland
told him that Argyle and his party were
against all kingly government. Mr VVod-
row thinks this false, and that it was only
foisted in by the clerk of the council—it
not being the first time that things of this
nature had been done by them. But he



JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
589


happens to have been in a mistake here;
for in one of Hardhill’s papers, in MS,
left behind him in way of testimony, he
gives this as the first reason for his not
joining with Argyle; and the second was
to the same purpose with what Mr Wod-
row has observed, viz., because the societies
could not espouse his declaration, as the
state of the quarrel was not concerted
according to the ancient plea of the Scot-
tish Covenanters, and because it opened a
door to a sinful confederacy.
His sentence was accordingly executed ;
he appeared upon the scaffold with a
great deal of courage and Christian com-
posure, and died in much assurance, and
with a joy which none of his persecutors
could interfere with. It was affirmed by
some who were present at his execution,
that the scaffold or gibbet gave way and
came down, which made some present flat-
ter themselves that, by some laws in being,
he had saved his life, as they used to say in
such cases. But behold a disappointment
here, for he behoved not to escape so, for
to this end he was born. Immediately all
was replaced, and the martyr executed.
TESTIMONY
OF
JOHN NISBET.
“ I have always thought that to live for
Christ, and die for Christ, is a suflicient
testimony for truth; yet now when I am
within a few hours of eternity, to prevent
mistakes, to satisfy my dear friends, and let
' them know how it is with me, and to let
the world know what I die witnessing for,
and testifying against, I judge it proper to
leave a few lines behind me.
“ As for myself, it hath pleased the Lord
Jehovah, of his superabundant goodness
and infinite mercy, powerfully to determine

my heart to close with and embrace the
Lord Jesus Christ, as he is made offer of
in the everlasting gospel, for my King,
Priest, and Prophet. And that conquest
captivating of me to his obedience, whc
was an heir of wrath, and a mass of sin
and sinful corruption, is the fruit of elect-
ing love, according as it is manifested in
the covenant of free, free, free grace, will
evidently appear from these Scriptures fol-
lowing; which he, by the power and concur-
rence of his Holy Spirit, hath made effec-
tual to the convincing, converting, strength—
ening, and enabling of me to be his, and
to be for him through well and through
wo, through good report, and through bad
report; and they are so many sweet cor-
dials to my soul, when stepping out of time
into eternity.
“ Psal. ex. 3. ‘ Thy people shall be will-
ing in the day of thy power.’ Rom. ix.
11. ‘ F or the children being not yet born;
neither having done any good or evil, that
the purpose of God according to election
might stand, not of works, but of him that
calleth.’ Ver. 15. ‘ For he saith to Moses,
(see Exod. xxxiii. 19.) I will have mercy
on whom I will have mercy; and I will
have compassion on whom I will have
compassion.’ Ver. 16. ‘ So then it is not
of him that willeth, nor of him that run-
neth, but of God that showeth mercy.’
2 Thes. ii. 13. ‘ God hath fi'om the begin-
ning chosen you to salvation, through
sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of
the truth.’ Prov. 30. ‘Then was I
by him, as one brought up with him : and
I was daily his delight, rejoicing always
before him. Rejoicing in the habitable
part of his earth, and my delights were
with the sons of men. Now, therefore,’
(to, to verse 36. Rom. viii. 29. ‘ For
whom he did foreknow, he also did pre-
destinate to be conformed to the image of
his Son, that he might be the first-born
among many brethren. Moreover whom he

.. _4______,______—__

590
SCOTS WORTHIES.


did predestinate, them he also called; and
whom he called, them he also justified;
and whom he justified, them he also gloril-
fied.’ Ver. 35. ‘ Who shall separate us
from the love of Christ? shall tribulation,
or distress, or persecution, or famine, or
nakedness, or peril, or sword?’ Ver. 37.
‘ Nay, in all these things we are more than
conquerors, through him that loved us.’
Eph. i. 13. ‘ In whom ye also trusted, after
that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel
of ypur salvation: in whom also after that
ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy
Spirit of promise,’ ver. 14. ‘ Which is the
earnest of our inheritance, until the re-
demption of the purchased possession, unto
the praise of his glory.’ 2 Tim. i. 9.
‘ Who hath saved us, and called us with
an holy calling: not according to our
works, but according to his own purpose
and grace, which was given us in Christ
Jesus, before the world began.’ Tit. iii.
‘ Not by works of righteousness which
we have done, but according to his mercy
he saved us, by the washing of regenera-
tion, and renewing of the Holy Ghost.’
Ver. 6. ‘ Which he shed on us abundantly
through Jesus Christ our Saviour.’ 1
Cor. i. 9. ‘ God is faithful, by whom ye
were called into the fellowship of his Son
Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Rom. iii. 24.
‘ Being justified freely by his grace, through
the redemption that is in Jesus Christ;
whom he has set forth to be a propitiation
through faith in his blood, to declare his
righteousness for the remission of sins that
are past, through the forbearance of God.’
And chap. iv. 6, ‘ Even as David also
describeth the blessedness of the man unto
Whom God imputeth righteousness without
works.’ Heb. ix. 14. ‘ How much more
shall the blood of Christ, who through the
eternal Spirit offered himself without spot
to God, purge your conscience from dead
works to serve the living God.’ 2 Cor. v.
19. ‘ To wit, that God was in Christ, recon-


oiling the world unto himself, not imputing
their trespasses unto them.’ Eph. iii. 17,
‘ That Christ may dwell in your hearts by
faith, that ye being rooted and grounded
in love.’ dzc. Gal. ii. 16. ‘ Knowing that a
man is not justified by the works of the
law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ; even
we have believed in Jesus, that we might
be justified by the faith of Christ, and not
by the works of the law; for by the works
of the law shall no flesh be justified.’ Rom.
v. 17. ‘ For by one man’s offence, death
reigned by one, much more they which
receive abundance of grace, and of the gift
of righteousness, shall reign in life by one
Jesus Christ.’ John vi. 3'7. ‘ All that the
Father giveth me, shall come to me ; and
him that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out.’ Ver. 39. ‘ And this is the
Father’s will which hath sent me, that of
all which he hath given me, I should lose
nothing, but should raise it up again at the
last day.’ Rom. xiv. 17. ‘ For the king.-
dom of heaven is not meat and drink, but
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the
Holy Ghost.’ Chap. viii. 1. ‘ There is
therefore now no condemnation to them
which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not
after the flesh, but after the Spirit.’ 1
John v. 13. ‘ These things have I written
unto you that believe on the name of the Son
of God, that ye may know that ye have eter-
nal life, and that ye may believe on the name
of the Son of God.’ Eph. iv. 23. ‘And be
renewed in the spirit of your mind.’ Philip.
iii. 9. ‘ And be found in him, not having
mine own righteousness which is of the
law, but that which is through the faith of
Christ, the righteousness which is of God
by faith.’ Ver. 10. ‘That I may know
him, and the power of his resurrection,
and the fellowship of his sufferings, being
made conformable unto his death.’ Rom.
vi. 4. ‘ Therefore we are buried with him
by baptism unto death, that like as Christ
was raised up from the dead by the glory


JOHN NISBET
591
OF HARDHILL.


of the Father: even so we also should
walk in newness of life. Prov. iv. 18.
‘ But the path of the just is as the shining
light, that shineth more and more unto
the perfect day.’ Philip. i. 6. ‘ Be confi-
dent of this very thing, that he which hath
begun a good work in you will perform it
until the day of Jesus Christ.’ Psalm
lxxxix. 33. ‘ Nevertheless, my loving-kind-
ness will I not utterly take from him, nor
suffer my faithfulness to fail. My cove-
nant will I not break, nor alter the thing
that is gone out of my lips.’ Rom. v.
‘ Therefore being justified by faith, we have
peace with God, through our Lord Jesus
Christ. By whom also we have access by
faith into this grace wherein we stand, and
rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.’
1 Pet. i. 5. ‘ Who are kept by the power
of God, through faith unto salvation, ready
to be revealed in the last time.’ Rom.
viii. 17. ‘ And if children, then heirs, heirs
of God, and joint heirs with Christ: if so
be that we suffer with him, that we also
may be glorified together.’ Chap. i. 16.
‘ For I am not ashamed of the gospel of
Christ; for it is the power of God unto
salvation, to every one that believeth, to
the Jew first, and also to the Greek.’ Col.
i. 29. ‘ To whom God would make known
what is the riches of the glory of this mys-
tery among the Gentiles, which is Christ
in you, the hope of glory.’ Matth. xi. 29.
‘Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me,
for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye
shall find rest unto your souls.’ Psalm lv.
22. ‘ Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and i
he shall sustain thee; he will never suffer
the righteous to be moved.’
‘F or the weapons of our warfare are not
carnal, but mighty through God, to the
pulling down of strongholds.’ Psalm lvii.
2. ‘ I will cry unto God most high; unto
God that performed all things for me.’
Prov. xxvii. 13. ‘ He that covereth his sins
shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth

2 Cor. x. 4.

and forsaketh them, shall have mercy.’
Psalm lix. 16. ‘ But I will sing of thy
power; yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy
in the morning; for thou hast been my
defence and refuge in the day of my trouble.
Unto thee, O my strength, will I sing:
for God is my defence and the God of my
mercy.’ Psalm lxviii. 18. Thou hast
ascended on high, thou hast led captivity
captive; thou hast received gifts for men;
yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord
God might dwell among them.’ Ver. 19.
‘ Blessed be the Lord who daily loadeth us
with benefits, even the God of our salva-
tion. Selah.’ Ver. 20. ‘ He that is our
God, is the God of salvation; and unto
God the Lord belong the issues fi"om death.’
2 Cor. v. 1. ‘For we know, that if our
earthly house of this tabernacle were dis-
solved, we have a building of God, an house
not made with hands, eternal in the hea-
vens.’ Heb. xii. 23. ‘ To the general
assembly and church of the first-born,
which are Written in heaven, and to God
the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just
men made perfect, and to Jesus the Medi-
ator,’ &c. Psalm xlv. I, to 9. John i. 1,
to 15., and chap. xviii. throughout. Isa.
liii. to the end, with many more.
“ Let none reflect upon me for citing so
much; for the Scripture hath been to me
from my youth the living oracles of his
divine and sacred lips. ‘When I was cry-
ing, ‘ what shall I do to be saved?’ and
when I was saying, ‘ how shall I know the
way of the Lord that I may walk therein?’
then his word was ‘ a light to my feet, and
a lamp to my path,’ exhorting me as it is
in Isa. lv. ‘ Ho every one that thirsteth,
come ye to the waters: and he that hath
no money, come ye, buy and eat: yea,
come buy wine and milk, without money
and without price. \Vherefore do ye spend
your money for that which is not bread,
and your labour for that which satisfieth
not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat


592
SCOTS WORTHIES.



ye that which is good; and let your soul
delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear
and come unto me, hear and‘ your soul
shall live: and I will make an everlasting
covenant with you, even the sure mercies
of David. Behold I have given him for a.
witness to the people, a leader and com--
mander to the people. Behold thou shalt
call a nation that thou knowest not, and
nations that knew not thee shall run unto
thee, because of the Lord thy God, and for
the holy One of Israel; for he hath glori-
fied thee. Seek ye the Lord while he may
be found, call ye upon him while he is near.
Let the wicked forsake his way, and the
unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him
return unto the Lord, and he will have
mercy upon him, and to our God, for he
will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts
are not your thoughts, neither are your
ways my ways, saith the Lord.’ John vi.
35. ‘ And Jesus said unto them, I am the
bread of life; he that cometh to me shall
never hunger; and he that believeth on
me shall never thirst.’ Rev. iii. 20. ‘ Be-
hold I stand at the door, and knock: if
any man hear my voice, and open the
door, I will come in to him, and sup with
him, and he with me. Jer. iii. ‘Only
acknowledge thine iniquity, that thou hast
transgressed against the Lord thy God,
and hast scattered thy ways to the stran-
gers under every green tree, and ye have
not obeyed my voice, saith the Lord.
Turn, O backsliding children, saith the
Lord, for I am married unto you: and I
will take you, one of a city, and two of a
family; and I will bring. you to. Zion.’
Ver. 22. ‘ Return ye backsliding children,
and I will heal your backslidings: behold,
we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord
our God. Truly in vain is salvation hoped
for from the hills, and from the multitude _,
of mountains; truly in the Lord our God i
is the salvation of Israel.’ Hosea xiv. 1.
‘ O Israel, return unto the Lord thy God, i

for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity.
Take with you words, and turn unto the
Lord, say unto him, take away all iniquity,
and receive us graciously, so will we ren-
der the calves of our lips.’ J er. xxxi. 18.
‘ I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning
himself thus, Thou hast chastised me, and
I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed
to the yoke: Turn thou me, and I shall
be turned: for thou art the Lord my
God.’ John xiv. 6. ‘ Jesus saith unto
him, I am the way, and the truth, and the
life: no man cometh unto the Father but
by me.’ Rev. xxii. 17. ‘And the Spirit and
the bride say, Come. And let him that
heareth say, Come. And let him that is
athirst, Come. And whosoever will, let
him take of the water of life freely.’
“ When I was grappling with sin, Satan,
and the world, and my own wicked and
deceitful heart, the enemies of my salva-
tion, his words were as props and pillars
to me: so that though I got my wounds,
and was oft sorely beat; yet at the last I
came off victorious, by the help of him
who is God all-sufficient to all who,
through grace, lay hold on him for help. ‘
It is by him, that I have fought the good
fight, that I have finished my course, and
that I have kept the faith; henceforth
there is laid up for me a crown of righteous-
ness, which the Lord the righteous Judge
shall give me at that day. It is by him
shining in his word, that I know all my
manifold sins and transgressions are freely
pardoned, and that I have a just right and
title to what is expressed, 1 Cor. i. 30. So
that now the guilt and condemning power
of sin being fully pardoned by a judicial
act of God’s free and sovereign grace,
through the merits of the Lord Jesus
Christ, especially applied and witnessed
unto by the Holy Spirit, upon, and to my
spirit, there is no room left me to doubt
any more of my being freely justified by
him, of my being in union with him, and


JOHN NISBET
or HARDHILL. 593







in a state of grace; or the power, dominion,
and filth of sin, original and actual, being
subdued, taken off, and washed away by
the virtue of the spirit of sanctification,
being created anew in Christ Jesus unto
good works, and being sanctified through-
out in soul, body, and spirit, and made
meet to be a. partaker of the inheritance of
the saints in light by Him who loved me,
and gave himself to the death for me and
redeemed me by power and price.
“ Now, being in such a case of com-
munion with him, I am pained till I be
freed of the remains of a body of sin and
death, till I be freed of the world and all
things therein, and also of this natural life,
and be possessed of himself, and with him-
self in his eternal inheritance, which is
incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth
not away; a place which he hath provided
for all whom he hath chosen, for all whom
he hath called, for all whom he hath justi-
fied, for all whom he hath sanctified: O to
be there, where I shall sin no more, where
I shall be tempted no more, neither feel
any more of the withdrawings of his
Spirit’s presence, and light of his glorious
countenance; but shall be ever with him,
see him as he is, and serve him for ever
and ever.
“ Now, my dear friends in Christ, I have
always, since the public resolutioners were
for bringing in the malignants and their
interest, thought it my duty to join With
the Lord’s people, in witnessing against
these sinful courses; and now we see
clearly that it has ended in nothing less
than making captains that we may return
to Egypt, by the open doors, that are made
wide to bring in popery, and set up idol-
atry in the Lord’s covenanted land, to de-
file it, and thereby to provoke him to pour
fierce wrath upon it, and the inhabitants
thereof. Wherefore, it is the unquestion-
able and indispensable duty of all who have
any love to God, to his Son the Lord Jesus

Christ, to the thriving of his kingdom, to
their own soul’s salvation, and to the fol-
lowing generation, to act a close, con-
stant, and needy dependence on the Lord
Jehovah’s all-sufficiency, for light, for
counsel, for direction, for strength and
ability, to make conscience in bearing
testimony for him, for his persecuted truth,
work, and interest, in these lands, which
was sworn to with uplifted hands to God
the searcher of hearts: and O that herein
all could act a faithful part for him who
hath done so much for poor wretched us!
when we were lying, dying, and rotting in
our blood-red sins, when passing by us
with his love and life-giving visit, saying
unto us, Live, live. And on the other
hand, to witness faithfully, constantly, and
conscientiously, against all that the ene-
mies have done, or are doing, to the over-
throw of the glorious work of Reformation;
and banishing Christ out of these lands, by
robbing him of his crown-rights, (for he,
and he alone, is Head of his own Church)
and by burning the covenants, which are the
marriage bond betwixt him and these lands;
and by persecuting his gospel-ministers and
members, who are labouring to keep their
garments clean, and their hands free of all
the corruptions and compliances in these
evil times: and however it be, that many,
both ministers and professors, are turning
their backs upon Christ and his cross,
reproaching and casting dirt upon you and
the testimony of the day; yet let not this
weaken your hands, stumble or discourage
you from going on in the strength of the
Lord your God, to contend earnestly for
the faith once delivered to the saints, and
witness a good confession for him and his
cause, resisting unto blood, striving against
sin: and herein let your souls possess
themselves with patience; for I assure
you, it will not be long to the fourth
watch; and then he will come with gar.
ments dyed in blood, to raise up saviours



4 r
594
SCOTS WORTHIES.




upon the mount of Zion, to judge the
mount of Esau; and then the house of
Jacob and Joseph shall be for fire, and the
malignants, prelates and papists, shall be
stubble, the flame whereof shall be great.
“ But my generation-work being done
with my time, I go to him who loved me,
and washed me from all my sins; to him
who has counted me worthy to suffer for
his name: and O that I had many lives to
lay down for him, and much blood to seal
his noble and honourable cause with, even
he who graciously pitied, and hath now
given me the full assurance of being a
member of his church triumphant, which
is the new Jerusalem, and the city of the
living God !
“ I die adhering to the Scriptures of the
Old and New Testament as'the undoubted
word of God, an unerring rule of faith and
manners, and a firm foundation for princi-
ple and practice in the ways of godliness
and true holiness. 2 Tim. iii. 16. ‘ All
Scripture is given by inspiration of God;
and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof,
for correction, for instruction in righteous-
ness. And the Confession of Faith, Cate-
chisms Larger and Shorter, as agreeable
thereunto, and safely founded thereupon.
2 Tim. i. 13. ‘ Hold fast the form of sound
words, which thou hast heard of me in
faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.’
Heb. vi. 1. ‘ Therefore leaving the princi-
ples of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on
unto perfection, not laying again the foun-
dation of repentance from dead works, and
of faith towards God.’ The Sum of Sav-
ing Knowledge, the Directory for Church
Government, in her doctrine, worship, and
discipline. I own all the attained-unto
pieces of reformation in the Church of
Scotland, particularly betwixt the years
1638 and 1649; the Covenants National

and Solemn League; the Acknowledg-y
ment of Sins and Engagement to Duties. '
w-—_-
strators against the Public Resolutions,
the Apologetical Declaration, and all the
declarations hitherto emitted at Ruther-
glen, Sanquhar, and Lanark; with all
dying speeches and testimonies of those
who have sealed the truth with their blood,
so far as they agree with God’s holy word.
“ I own all the appearances in arms that
have been at Pentland, Drumclog, Both~
well, Airsmoss, and elsewhere, against
God’s stated enemies, and the enemies of
the gospel, as it hath been preached by all
Christ’s faithful ambassadors in Scotland,
since the Reformation; and now by that
faithful servant of Christ, Mr James Ren-
wick ; and the testimony of the day as it is
stated and carried on by him and his adhe-
rents at home and abroad; and kingly
government, as appointed and emitted in
the word of God, and entering covenant
ways, and with covenant qualifications.
But I am persuaded Scotland’s covenanted
God will cut off the name of the Stuarts,
because they have stated themselves against
religion, reformation, and the thriving of
Christ’s kingdom and kingly government
in these lands. And although men idolize
them much now, yet ere long there shall
none of them be to tyrannize in covenanted
Britain any more.
“ On the other hand I die protesting
against, and disowning popery in all its
superstitious bigotry and bloody cruelty;
and prelacy the mother of popery; and all
that depends upon that hierarchy; and
the unhinging and overthrowing of the
glorious work of Reformation, by their
woful Act Rescissory: burning the Cove~
nant, turning out gospel-ministers, filling
their rooms with profane, erroneous cu-
rates, and setting up Charles Stuart to be
head of the church; and so robbing Christ
of his royal and incommunicable preroga-
tives, by their cursed act of supremacy.
“ I protest against the putting malig—
I own the protestation given by the remon- l nants in places of power and trust in


JOHN NISBET
OF HARDHILL. 595






church, state, and armies; and all decla-
rations anywhere published tending there-
unto ; and against all paying of stent, cess,
and locality, to strengthen the enemy’s
hands to persecute Christ’s people in fields,
prisons, or any other ways; and robbing,
plundering, or spoiling them of their goods;
and all raising of the hue and cry after
them; and all sinful oaths, such as the
oath of supremacy, the bond of peace, the
test, the oath of conformity, the abjuration
oath, and the oath super inquirendis.
“ I die testifying against the woful indul-
gences, the fruits and consequences of
which have so much strengthened the ene-
my, increased our divisions, widened our
breaches, deadened the spirits, and cooled
the zeal of the Lord’s people, stumbled
and offended the weak, and in a great
measure retarded the carrying on of a
testimony for truth, by condemning the
things contended for, and reproaching
these that contend for truth.
“ Wherefore Ileave my testimony against
all the accepters thereof, and all ministers
and professors, who are any way guilty of
any of the woful defections, and sinful com-
pliances with the enemies of truth, or any
way guilty of condemning, reproaching,
and ridiculing Mr James R-enwick, and
his correspondents, or the testimony which
they are carrying on. And let all such
ministers and professors know that this
their practice, at the best, is a denying of
Christ, and shifting of his cross; there-
fore, let them take warning, and ponder
these Scriptures. Matth. x. 32. ‘ \Vhoso-
ever therefore shall confess me before men,
him will I also confess before my Father
who is in heaven.’ Ver. 33. ‘ But whoso-
ever shall deny me before men, him will I
also deny before my Father who is in
heaven.’ (See Luke xii. 8, 9.) Ver. 37.
‘ He that loveth father and mother more
than me, is not worthy of me; and he that
loveth son or daughter more than me, is ,

not worthy of me.’ Ver. 38. ‘And he
that taketh not his cross, and followeth
after me, is not worthy of me.’ Matth.
xvi. 24. ‘ Then said Jesus unto his disci-
ples, If any man will come after me, let
him deny himself, and take up his cross,
and follow me.’ (See Mark viii. 34.)
Mark viii. 35. ‘ For whosoever will save
his life, shall lose it; but whosoever shall
lose his life, for my sake and the gospel’s,
the same shall save it.’ (See Matth x. 49.
also chap. xvi. 25.) Matth. xvi. 26, ‘ For
what is a man profited if he shall gain the
whole world and lose his own soul? or
what shall a man give in exchange for his
soul?’ (See Mark viii. 36, 37.) Mark viii.
38. ‘ Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed
of me and my words, of him also shall the
Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh
in the glory of his Father, with the holy
angels.’ Isa. viii. 11. ‘ For the Lord spake
thus to me with a strong hand, and in~
structed me, that I should not walk in the
way of this people, saying, Say ye not, A
confederacy, to all them to whom this peo-
ple shall say, A confederacy; neither fear
ye their fear, or be afraid. Sanctify the
Lord of hosts himself, and let him be your
fear, and let him be your dread. And he
shall be for a sanctuary: but for a stone of
stumbling, and for a rock of offence to both
the houses of Israel, and for a snare to the
inhabitants of Jerusalem. And many
among them shall stumble and fall, and be
broken, and be snared, and be taken,’ (as
it is expressed ver. 9,10.) Prev. 1. 10. ‘ My
son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou
not. If they say, Come with us, let us
lay wait for blood, let us lurk privily for
the innocent without cause. Let us swal-
low them up alive as the grave, and whole
' as those that go down into the pit. \Ve
shall find all precious substance, we
shall fill our houses with spoil. Cast
in thy lot among us, let us all have one
purse. My son, walk not thou in the


596
SCOTS WO RTHIES.



way with them, refrain thy foot from their
path. For their feet run to evil, and make
haste to shed blood.’ Isa. v. 20. ‘ Wo
unto them that call evil good, and good
evil; that put darkness for light, and light
for darkness; that put bitter for sweet,
and sweet for bitter.’ Ver. 21. ‘ W0
unto them that are wise in their own eyes,
and prudent in their own sight.’ Ver.
23. ‘ Which justify the wicked for reward,
and take away the righteousness of the
righteous from him.’ Ver. 2-1. ‘There-
fore as the fire devoureth the stubble, and
the flame consumeth the chaff; so their
root shall be rottenness, and their blossom
shall go up as dust, because they have cast
away the law of the Lord of Hosts, and
despised the word of the Holy One of
Israel.’ Prov. xvii. 15. ‘ He that justifieth
the wicked, and he that condemneth the
just, even they both are abomination to
the Lord.’ Amos v. 10. ‘ They hate him
that rebuketh in the gate, and they abhor
him that speaketh uprightly.’ Gal. ii. 18.
‘ For if I build again the things which I
destroyed, I make myself a transgressor.’~
Psalm 1. 16. ‘ But unto the wicked, Godl
saith, What hast thou to do to declare my
statutes, or that thou shouldst take my
covenant in thy mouth?’ Ver. 1'7. ‘ See-
ing thou hatest instruction, and castest
my words behind thee.’ Ver. 18. ‘When
thou sawest a thief, thou consentedst with
him, and hast been partaker with adul-
terers.’ Ver. 19. ‘ Thou givest thy mouth
to evil, and thy tongue frameth deceit.’
V er. 20. Thou sittest and speakest against
thy brother, thou slanderest thy own‘
mother’s son.’ Ver. .21. ‘ These things
hast thou done, and I kept silence; thou
thoughtest that I was altogether such a one
as thyself; but I will reprove thee, and
set them in order before thine eyes.’ The
Prophecy of Obadiah throughout, the first
and last chapters of Isaiah to the end, with
many more.

“Now, it is my last request and soul’s
desire that all who have made Moses’
choice, ‘ to suffer affliction with the people
of God, rather than enjoy the pleasures of
sin for a season;’ and are true lovers of
Zion’s righteous cause ; that you set much
time apart, and mourn, and afflict your
souls, for your original sin, heart-plagues,
sins of persons and families, sins of kings
and kingdoms; and for all the dreadful
apostasies, hateful compliances, and sinful
sidings of ministers and people, with the
enemies of God and godliness, and mourn
that there is not more faithfulness and zeal
for the cause of God amongst his people.
Read Psalm l., Ezra ix., Neh. ix., Jer. ix.,
Lam. iii., and Ezek. ix. to the end.
“ My dear friends, forbear your conten-
tions and censuring one of another; sym-
pathize with and love one another, for this
is his commandment; keep up your sweet
fellowship-meetings, and desirable general
meetings, with which my soul has been
often refreshed; and what is agitated in
them for carrying on of a testimony for
truth, and against defections, let it be
managed with scripture light for direction,
and with zeal tempered with knowledge,
and with the spirit of meekness accom-
panied with patience and humility. Be
always ready to give a reason of your faith,
and be much denied to the world, to your-
selves, and to your natural life; and when
God in his providence calls you to lay it
down for him, do it cheerfully, and embrace
the cross of your sweet Lord Jesus with
open arms; for he will not send any a war--
fare on their own charges.
“ Take for your rule and encouragement
these Scriptures, with others that I leave
to your own search. Gal. v. 19. ‘ Now
the works of the flesh are manifest, which
are these, adultery, fornication, unclean-
ness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft,
hatred, variance, emulation, wrath, strife,
seditious, heresies, envyings, murders.


JOHN NISBET OF HARDHILL.
597



drunkenness, revellings, and such like; of
the which I tell you before, as I have also
told you in time past, that they which do
such things shall not inherit the kingdom
of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love,
joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good-
ness, faith, meekness, temperance; against
such there is no law. And they that are
Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the
affections and lusts. If we live in the
Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. Let
us not be desirous of vain-glory, provoking
one another, envying one another.’ Chap.
vi. ver. 7. ‘ Be not deceived, God is not
mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth,
that shall he also reap.’ Ver. 8. ‘ For he
that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh
reap corruption: but he that soweth to
the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life over-
lasting.’ Ver. 9. ‘ And let us not be
weary in well-doing; for in due season we
shall reap, if we faint not.’ Ver. 10. ‘As
we have therefore opportunity, let us do
good unto all men, especially unto them
that are of the household of faith.’ Mal.
iii. 16. ‘ Then they that feared the Lord,
spake often one to another, and the Lord
hearkened and heard it, and a book of
remembrance was written before him, for
them that feared the Lord, and that
thought upon his name.’ Ver. 17. ‘ And
they shall be mine, saith the Lord of
hosts, in that day when I make up my
jewels, and I will spare them as a man
spareth his own son that serveth him.’
Ver. 18. ‘Then shall ye return and dis-
cern between the righteous and the wicked,
between him that serveth God, and him
that serveth him not.’ Isaiah iii. 10. ‘ Say
ye to the righteous, that it shall be well
with him; for they shall eat the fruit of
their doings.’ Ver. 11. ‘ \Vo unto the
wicked, it shall be ill with him; for the
reward of his hands shall be given him.’
Ver. 9. ‘ The show of their countenance
doth witness against them, and they declare .

their sin as Sodom, they hide it not: W0
unto their soul, for they have rewarded evil
unto themselves.’ And chap. viii. v. 20. ‘ To
the law and to the testimony, if they speak
not according to this word, it is because
there is no truth in them.’ Mal. iv. 2.
‘But unto you that fear my name, shall
the Sun of righteousness arise with healing
in his wings; and ye shall go forth and
grow up as calves of the stall.’ Isa. viii.
17. ‘ And I will wait upon the Lord, that
hideth his face from the house of Jacob,
and I will look for him.’ Phil. i. 27.
‘Only let your conversation be as it be-
cometh the gospel of Christ, that whether
I come and see you, or else be absent, 1
may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast
in one spirit, with one mind, striving for
the faith of the gospel.’ Ver. 28. ‘ And
in nothing terrified by your adversaries ;
which is to them an evident token of per-
dition, but to you of salvation, and that of
God.’ Ver. 29. ‘ For unto you it is given
in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe
on him, but also to suffer for his sake.’
Rev. x. 11. ‘ And he said unto me, Thou
must prophesy again before many peoples,
and nations, and tongues, and kings.’ Heb.
x. from the 11th verse to the end; and
chap. xii. 11. ‘ Now no chastening for the
present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous;
nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peace
able fruit of righteousness unto them which
are exercised thereby.’ Ver. 12. ‘ 'Where-
fore lift up the hands which hang down
and the feeble knees.’ Ver. 18. ‘And
make straight paths for your feet, lest that
which is lame be turned out of the way
but let it rather be healed.’ Ver. 14. ‘ Fol-
low peace with all men, and holiness, with-
out which no man shall see the Lord.’
V er. 15. ‘ Looking diligently, lest any man
fail of the grace of God; lest any root of
bitterness springing up, trouble you, and
thereby many he defiled.’ Rev. xiv. 1.
‘ And I looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the


598
SCOTS WORTHIES.



mount Sion, and with him a hundred forty
and four thousand, having his Father’s
name written on their foreheads.’ Ver. 2.
’And I heard a voice from heaven, as the
voice of many waters, and as the voice of
great thunder; and I heard the voice of
harpers harping with their harps.’ Ver.
And they sung as it were a new song be-
fore the throne, and before the four beasts
and the elders, and no man could learn
four thousand, which were redeemed from
the earth.’ Ver. 4. ‘ These were they
which were not defiled with women, for
they are virgins ; these are they which fol-
low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth,
these were redeemed from among men,
being the first-fruits unto God, and unto
the Lamb.’ Ver. 5. ‘ And in their mouth
was found no guile; for they are without
fault before the throne of God.’ Jude ver.
3. ‘ Beloved, when I gave all diligence to
write unto you of the common salvation; it
was needful for me to write unto you, and
exhort you,that ye should earnestly contend
for the faith which was once delivered to
the saints.’ Eph. vi. 10. ‘ Finally, my
brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the
power of his might.’ Ver. 11. ‘ Put on the
whole armour of God, that ye may be able
to stand against the wiles of the devil.’ Ver.
12. ‘ For ye wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against principalities, against
powers, against the rulers of the darkness
of this world, against spiritual wickedness
in high places. Wherefore take unto you
the whole armour of God, that ye may be
able to withstand in the evil day, and hav-
ing done all to stand. Stand, therefore,
having your loins girt about with truth,
and having on the breastplate of righteous-
ness; and your feet shod with the pre-
paration of the gospel of peace. Above
all, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye
shall be able to quench all the fiery darts


Lg
that song, but the hundred and forty and

of the wicked. And take the helmet of
salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which
is the word of God.’
“ And scare not at his sweet, lovely, and
desirable cross; for although I have not
been able, because of my wounds, (that I
received at my taking,) to lift up or lay
down my head, but as I was helped, yet I
was never in better case all my life; he has
not given me one challenge since I came to
prison, for anything less or more; but, on the
contrary, he has so wonderfully shined on me
with the sense of his redeeming, strengthen‘-
ing, assisting, supporting, through-bearing,
pardoning, and reconciling love, grace, and
mercy, that my soul doth long to be freed
of bodily infirmities and earthly organs, so
that I may flee to his royal palace, even the
heavenly habitation of my God, where I am
sure of a crown put on my head, and a
palm put in my hand, and a new song put
in my mouth, even the song of Moses and
the Lamb, that so I may bless, praise, mag-
nify, and extol him for what he hath done
to me, and for me. Wherefore I bid fare-
well to all my dear fellow-sufferers for the
testimony of Jesus, who are wandering in
dens and caves. Farewell, my children;
study holiness in all your ways, and praise
the Lord for what he hath done for me,
and tell all my Christian fi~iends to praise
him on that account! Farewell, sweet
Bible, and wanderings and contendings for
truth! Welcome death; welcome the city
of my death, where I shall see him, and be
enabled to serve him eternally with full
freedom; welcome blessed company, and
angels, and spirits of just men made per-
fect! But, above all, Welcome, welcome,
welcome, our glorious and alone God,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! Into thy
hands I commit my spirit, for thou art
worthy. Amen.
“ Sic sub—JOHN NISBET.”


ALEXANDER PEDEN.
599




ALEXANDER. PEDEN.

ALEXANDER PEDEN was born in the parish his discourse till night.
of Sorn, in the shire of Ayr. After he
had finished his university curriculum, he
was for some time employed as school-
master, precentor, and session-clerk, to Mr
John Guthrie, minister of the Gospel at
T arboltonj’i‘
A little before the Restoration, he was
ordained minister at New Luce in Gallo-
way, where he continuedf'or about the space
of three years, until thrust out by the vio-
lence and tyranny of the times. On the
afternoon of the Sabbath previous to his
leaving the parish, he preached from Acts
xx. 32: “' And now, brethren, I commend
you to the word of his grace,” and continued
i
l

i
\Vhen he closed
the pulpit door, he knocked three times
very hard on it, with his Bible, saying
thrice,—“I arrest thee, in my Master’s
name, that none ever enter thee, but such
as come in by the door as I have done ;”
and no one entered it, till after the Revo-
lution it was opened by a Presbyterian.
About the beginning of the year 1666, a
proclamation was emitted by the council
against him and several of the ejected
ministers, wherein he was charged with
holding conventicles, preaching, and bap-
tizing children, at Ralstoun in Kilmarnock,
and at Castlehill in Craigie parish, where
he baptized twenty-four children. But,
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"‘ According to Wodrow, he was some time also precenror at Fenwick. See IIist. vol. i. p. 443.
l
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600
SCOTS WORTHIES.



upon his non-appearance at this citation,
he was next year declared a rebel, and for-
feited both life and fortune.*
After this, he joined that faithful party,
which, in the same year, was dispersed at
Pentland hills ; and with them he came the
length of Clyde, where he had a melan-
choly view of their end, and parted with
them there. Afterwards, when one of his
friends said to him, “ Sir, you did well that
left them, seeing you was persuaded that
they would fall and flee before the enemy,”
he was offended, and said, ‘“ Glory, glory to
God, that he sent me not to hell imme-
diately, for I should have stayed with them,
though I should have been cut in pieces.”
In the same year he met with a very re-
markable deliverance.
in company with Mr Welch and the laird
of Glerover, they met a party of the enemy’s
horse. The laird fainted, fearing they
should be taken; Peden seeing this, said,
“ Keep up your courage and confidence, for
God hath laid an arrest on these men that
they shall do us no harm.” When they
met they were courteous, and asked the
way. Peden went off the way, and showed
them the ford of the water of Titt. When
he returned, the laird said, “ Why did you
go? you might have let the lad go with
them.” “ N 0,” said he, “ They might have
asked questions of the lad, which might
have discovered us ; but, as for me, I knew
they would be like Egyptian dogs; they
could not move a tongue against me, my
time not being yet come.”
He passed his time sometimes in Scot-
For, while riding
'- land, and sometimes in Ireland,t until
June, 1673, when he was by major Cock-
burn taken in the house of Hugh Ferguson
of Knockdew, in Carriek, who had con-
Wodrow’s History, vol. i. p. 235
t Walker, in his Eighth Additional Passage, &c.,
says. that he was in Ireland in the year 1670; but-
of this we have no particular account.

“-
strained him to stay all night. Peden told
him it would be a dear night’s quarters to
them both; accordingly they were both
carried prisoners to Edinburgh. There
the said Hugh was fined in 1000 merks for
reset, harbour, and converse with him.
Some time after his examination, Peden
was sent prisoner to the Bass.
One day, as he was walking on the rock,
some soldiers were passing by, and one of
them cried, “ The devil take him.” He
said, “ F y, fy ! poor man, thou knowest not
what thou art saying; but thou shalt re-
pent that.” At which he stood astonished,
and went to the guard distracted, crying
out for Peden, saying, “ The devil would
immediately come and take him away.”
Peden came, and conversed and prayed with
him, and next morning came to him again,
and found him in his right mind, under
deep convictions of great guilt. The guard
being to change, they commanded him to
his arms, but he refused; and said, “ He
would lift no arms against Jesus Christ,
his cause, and his people ; I have done that
too long.” The governor threatened him
with death to-morrow by ten o’clock. He
confidently said, three times over, “That
though he should tear him in pieces, he
should never lift arms that way.” About
three days after, the governor put him forth
of the garrison, setting him ashore. And
he, having a wife and children, took a house
in East Lothian, where he became a singu-
- lar Christian.
Peden was brought from the Bass to
Edinburgh, and was sentenced, in Decem~
ber, 1678, along with other sixty prisoners
for the same cause, to be banished to
America, never to be seen again in Scot‘
land, under pain of death. After this
sentence was passed, he often said, “ That
that ship was not yet built that should take
him or these prisoners to Virginia, or any
other of the English plantations in America.”
When they were on shipboard in the roads

—_
ALEXANDER PEDEN.
601


of Leith, there was a report that the enemy
were to send down thumbkins to keep
them in order; on which they were much
discouraged. He went above deck, and said,
“ \Vhy are you so much discouraged‘? you
need not fear, there will neither thumb-
kins nor bootkins come here; lift up your
hearts, for the day of your redemption
draweth near: if we were once at London,
we will all be set at liberty,” &c. In their
voyage thither they had the opportunity of
seizing the commander of the ship, and
escaping, but did not choose to avail
themselves of it without his advice. He
said, “ Let all alone, for the Lord will set
all at liberty in a way more conducive to
his own glory, and our own safety.” Ac-
cordingly, when they arrived, the skipper
who received them at Leith, being to carry
them no farther, delivered them to another,
to carry them to Virginia, to whom they
were represented as thieves and robbers.
But when he came to see them, and found
they were all grave sober Christians, ba-
nished for Presbyterian principles, he would
sail the sea with none such. In this con-
fusion, the one captain refusing to receive
them, and the other not choosing to retain
them on account of the expense, they were
set at liberty. Some say the captain got
compliments from friends in London.
Others assure us, that they got off through
means of the Lord Shaftesbury, who was
always friendly to the Presbyterians. How-
ever, it is certain they were all liberated at
Gravesend, without any bond or imposition
whatever. And, in their way homeward,
the English showed them no small degree
of kindness.*
’-‘-‘ Among those against whom this iniquitous j
sentence was passed, there was one, by name Alex-
ander Anderson, who was only fifteen years of age, 1
and deserves tobe remembered, at once for his youth,
and his piety. The historian Wodrow gives the
following account of a testimony which he left he-
hind him :—“ He takes notice," says he, “that he

After they were set at liberty, Peden
staid at London, and other places of Eng-
land, until 1679, when he came to Scot-
land. On that dismal day, the 22d of
June, when the Lord’s people fell and fled
before their enemies at Bothwell Bridge,
he was sixty miles distant, being near the
border, where he kept himself retired until
the middle of the day, when some friends
said to him, “Sir, the people are waiting
for sermon, it being the Lord’s day.” To
whom he said, “ Let the people go to their
prayers; for me, I neither can nor will
preach any this day; for our friends are
fallen and fled before the enemy at Hamil-
ton, and they are hashing and hagging
them down, and their blood is running
down like water.”
After this, in the year 1682, he married
that singular Christian, John Brown, at
his house in Priesthill, in the parish of
Muirkirk in Kyle, to one Isabel Weir.
After marriage, he said to the bride, “ Isabel,
you have got a good man to be your hus-
band, but you will not enjoy him long:
prize his company, and keep linen by you
to be his winding-sheet, for you will need
it when you are not looking for it, and it
is the youngest prisoner in Scotland, and that the
Lord had opened his eyes, and revealed his Son in
his heart since he came under the cross; that he
had much difiiculty to part with his friends and
relations; yet he had now found, fellowship with
Christ did much more than balance the worth of
the company of his dearest relations ; that though
he be so very young, as could not be admitted as a
witness among men, yet he hopes that Christ hath
taken him as a witness to his cause. He makes an
apology that he who is but a child, should leave
anything of this nature behind, but joys that he
was constrained to it, to testify that God perfects
strength out of the mouth of babes. He leaves his
commendations to the cross of Christ, and blesses
the Lord for carrying him through temptations, and
enabling him, one of the lambs of his flock, to stand
before great men and judges; and closes with his
,good wishes to all the friends of Christ.” See Wod-
row, i. 524
4c
602
SCOTS WORTHIES.




will be a bloody one,” which sadly came
to pass in the beginning of May, 1685.
In the same year, 1682, he went to Ire-
land again, and coming to the house of
William Steel in Glenwhary, in the county
of Antrim, he inquired at Mrs Steel if she
Wanted a servant for thrashing of victual.
She said, they did; and asked what his
wages were a-day and a~week. He said,
the common rate was a common rule. To
which she assented. At night he was put
to bed in the barn with the servant-lad, and
that night he spent in prayer and groaning.
On the morrow he thrashed with the lad,
and the next night he spent in the same
way. The second day the lad said to his
mistress, “ This man sleeps none, but groans
and prays all night; I can get no sleep
with him; he thrashes very well, and not
sparing himself, though I think he has not
been used to it; and when I put the barn
in order, he goes to such a place, and prays
for the afflicted Church of Scotland, and
names so many people in the furnace.”
He wrought the second day; his mistress
Watched, and overheard him praying as the
lad had said. At night she desired her
husband to inquire if he was a minister;
which he did, and desired him to be fi~ee
with him, and he should not only be no
enemy to him but a friend. Peden said,
he was not ashamed of his office, and gave
an account of his circumstances. But he
was no more set to Work, or to lie with the
lad. He staid some considerable time in
that place, and was a blessed instrument in
the conversion of some, and the civilizing of
others.
Before he left Ireland, he preached in
several places, particularly one time in
1685,where he made a most clear discovery
of the many hardships his fellow-sufferers
were then undergoing in Scotland; and of
the death of Charles II.,——the news of
which came not to Ireland till twenty-four
hours thereafter.

After this he longed to be out of Ire-
land; both from a fearful apprehension of
that dismal rebellion that broke out there
about four years after, and from a desire he
had to take part with the sufferers of Scot-
land. Before his departure from thence,
he baptized a child to one John Maxwell,
a Glasgow man, who had fled over from
the persecution.
After he and twenty Scots sufferers came
aboard, he went on deck and prayed—there
not being then the least wind—where he
made a rehearsal of times and places when
and where the Lord had helped them in
the day of their distress, and now they were
in a great strait. Waving his hand to the
west, from whence he desired the wind, he
said, “ Lord, give us a loof-full of wind;
fill the sails, Lord, and give us a fresh gale,
and let us have a swift and safe passage
over to the bloody land, come of us what
will.” When he began to pray the sails
were hanging all straight down, but ere he
ended, they were all blown full, and they
got a very swift and safe passage over. In
the morning, after they landed, he lectured,
ere they parted, on a brae-side: in which
he had some awful threatenings against
Scotland, saying, “ The time was coming,
that they might travel many miles in Gal-
loway, Nithsdale; Ayr, and Clydesdale, and
not see a reeking house, or hear a cock
crow ;” and further added, “ My soul trem-
bles to think what will become of the in-
dulged, backslidden, and upsetting minis-
ters of Scotland; as the Lord lives, none
of them shall ever be honoured to put a
right pin in the Lord’s tabernacle, nor
assert Christ’s kingly prerogative as Head
and King of his Church.”
After his arrival in Scotland, in the
beginning of the year 1685, he met with
several remarkable deliverances from the
enemy. One time, fleeing from them on
horseback, he was obliged to ride a water,
where he was in imminent danger. After



ALEXANDER PEDEN.
603


having crossed, he cried, “Lads, do noti
follow me, for I assure you, ye want my
boat, and so will drown; and consider
where your landing will be ;” which af-
frighted them from entering the water.
At another time, being also hard pursued,
he was forced to take a bog and moss be-
fore him. One of the dragoons being more
forward than the rest, run himself into that
dangerous bog, where he and the horse
were never seen more.
About this time he preached one Sab-
bath night in a sheep-fold, the hazard of
the time affording no better. That night
he lectured upon Amos vii. 8, “And I will
set a plumb line in the midst of my people,
the house of Israel,” 820. In this lecture,
he said, “ I’ll tell you good news. Our
Lord will take a feather out of Antichrist’s
wing, which shall bring down the duke of
York, and banish him out of these king-
doms. And there shall never a man of
the house of Stuart sit upon the throne of
Britain, after the duke of York, whose
reign is now short, for their lechery,
treachery, tyranny, and shedding the pre-
cious blood of the Lord’s people. But, oh!
black, black, will the days be that will
come upon Ireland! so that they shall
travel forty miles, and not see a reeking-
house, or hear a cock crow.” When ended,
he and those with him lay down in the
sheep-house, and got some sleep; and early
next morning went up a burn side, and
spent a long time in meditation. When he
came back he sung the 82d psalm, from the
7th verse to the end; and then repeated
that verse,—
“ Thou art my hiding place, thou shalt
From trouble keep me free;
Thou with songs of deliverance
About shalt compass me ‘
Saying, “ These and the following are
sweet lines, which I got at the burn-side
this morning, andwill get more to-morrow;

and so will get daily provision. He was
never behind any who put their trust in
Him, and we will go on in his strength, mak-
ing mention of his righteousness, and of his
only.” He met with another remarkable
deliverance; for the enemy coming upon
him and some others, they were pursued by
both horse and foot a considerable way.
At last, getting some little height between
them and the enemy, he stood still, and
said, “ Let us pray here; for if the Lord
hear not our prayers, and save us, we are
all dead men.” Then he began, saying,
“Lord, it is thy enemy’s day, hour, and
power, they may not be idle. But hast
thou no other work for them, but to send
them after us ? Send them after to whom
thou wilt give strength to flee, for our
strength is gone. Twine them about the
hill, Lord, and cast the lap of thy cloak over
old Sandy, and thir puir things, and save
us this one time; and we’ll keep it in re-
membrance, and tell it to the commenda-
tion of thy goodness, pity, and compassion,
what thou didst for us at such a time.”
And in this he was heard; for a cloud of
mist intervened immediately betwixt them ;
and, in the mean time, a post came to the
enemy, to go in quest of Mr Renwick, and
a great company with him.
At this time it was seldom that Peden
could be prevailed on to preach ; frequently
answering and advising people to pray much,
saying, “ It was praying folk that would
get through the storm; they would yet get
preaching, both meikle and good, but not
much good of it, until judgment was poured
out to lay the land desolate.”
In the same year, 1685, being in Car-
rick, John Clerk of Muirbrook, being with
him, said, “ Sir, what think you of this
Is it not a dark and melancholy
day? Can there be a more discouraging
time than this?” He said, “ Yes, John,
this is a dark discouraging time, but there
will be a darker time than this ; these silly
time ?


604.
SCOTS WORTHIES.



graceless creatures, the curates, shall go
down: and after them shall arise a party
called Presbyterians, but having little more
but the name; and these shall, as really as
Christ was crucified without the gates of
Jerusalem on Mount Calvary bodily, I say,
they shall as really crucify Christ, in his
cause and interest in Scotland; and shall
lay him in his grave, and his friends shall
give him his winding-sheet, and he shall
lie as one buried for a considerable time:
O I then, John, there shall be darkness and
dark days, such as the poor Church of
Scotland never saw the like, nor ever shall
see, if once they were over; yea, John,
they shall be so dark, that if a poor thing
would go between the east sea-bank and
the west sea-bank, seeking a minister to
whom they would communicate their case,
or tell them the mind of the Lord concern-
ing the time, he shall not find one." J 01111
asked, where the testimony should be then?
He answered,* “ In the hands of a few,
who would be despised and undervalued of
all, but especially by those ministers who
buried Christ; but after that he shall get
up upon them; and at the crack of his
winding-sheet, as many of them as are alive,
who were at the burial, shall be distracted
and mad with fear, not knowing what to
do: then, John, there shall be brave days,
such as the Church of Scotland never saw
the like; I shall not see them, but you may.”
About this time, as he was preaching in
the day-time in the parish of Girvan, and
being in the fields, one David Mason, then
In an old copy, there are these words :——“ In
the hands of a few, who shall have neither magis-
trate nor minister among them, who shall be sore
despised and undervalued of all,” &c. Whether
this alteration proceeds from different information,
or from partiality, is hard to determine : only it is
affirmed, that the author of these passages was
then amongst that party who had neither magis-
trate nor minister at that time, or at least was
not in full communion with any party, if it was not
those adhering to Mr Hepburn.

a professor, came in haste, trampling upon
the people to be near him. At which he
said, “ There comes the devil’s rattle-bag;
we do not want him here.” After this, the
said David became officer and informer in
that bounds, running through, rattling and
summoning the people to their unhappy
courts for non-conformity; at which he and
his family got the name of the devil’s rattle-
bag. Since the Revolution, he complained
to his minister that he and his family got
that name. The minister said, “ Ye well
deserved it; and he was an honest man
that gave you it: you and yours must en-
joy it: there is no help for that.”
His last sermon was preached in the
Collimwood, at the water of Ayr, a short
time before his death. In the preface be-
fore this sermon, he said, “ There are four
or five things I have to tell you this night;
1st, A bloody sword, a bloody sword, a
bloody sword, for thee, O Scotland, that
shall pierce the hearts of many. 2dly,
Many miles shall ye travel, and see nothing
but desolation and ruinous wastes in thee,
O Scotland. 3dly, The most fertile places
in thee shall be as waste as the mountains.
4thly, The women with child shall be ript
up and dashed in pieces. And, 5thly,
Many a conventicle has God had in thee,
O Scotland; but, ere long, God will make
a conventicle that will make Scotland
tremble. Many a preaching has God be-
stowed on thee; but, ere long, God’s judg-
ments shall be as frequent as these precious
meetings, wherein he sent forth his faithful
servants to give faithful Warning of the
hazard of thy apostasy from God, in break-
ing, burning, and burying his covenant, per-
secuting, slighting, and contemning the
gospel, shedding the precious blood of his
saints and servants. God sent forth a
Welwood, a Kid, a King, a Cameron, a
Cargill, and others, to preach to thee; but,
ere long, God shall preach to thee by fire
and a bloody sword. God will let none of


ALEXANDER PEDEN.
605
7‘ would make Scotland a desolation.


these men’s words fall to the ground, that
he sent forth with a commission to preach
these things in his name.” In the sermon,
he further said, that a few years after his
death, there would be a wonderful altera-
tion of affairs in Britain and Ireland, and
Scotland’s persecution should cease; upon
which every one would believe the deliver-
ance was come, and, consequently, would
fall fatally secure ; but you will be all very
far mistaken, for both Scotland and Eng-
land will be scourged by foreigners, and
a set of unhappy men in these lands tak-
ing part with them, before any of you can
pretend to ‘be happy, or get a thorough
deliverance; which will be a more severe
chastisement than any other they have met
with, or can come under, if once that were
over.
After much wandering from place to
place, through Kyle, Carrick, and Gallo-
way, his death drawing near, he came to
his brother’s house, in the parish of Sorn,
where he was born, where he caused them
to dig a cave, with a willow-bush covering
the mouth thereof, near to his brother’s
house. The enemy got notice, and searched
the house narrowly several times, but him
they found not. \Vhile in this cave, he
said to some friends,*—1st, “That God
2dly,
There would be a remnant in the land
whom God would spare and hide. 8dly,
They would be in holes and caves of the
earth, and be supplied with meat and drink;
and when they came out of their holes,
they would not have freedom to walk for
stumbling on dead corpses. And, 4thly,
A stone cut out of the mountain would
come down; and God would be avenged
on the great ones of the earth, and the
inhabitants of the land, for their wicked-
ness: and then the church would come
i‘ The foresaid old copy said this was within two
hours of his death.

forth in beauty and glory, as a bride
adorned for her husband. And he wished
that the Lord’s people might be hid in their
caves, as if they were not in the world: for
nothing would do until God appeared with
his judgments.” And withal gave them
this sign, “ That if he be but once buried,
they might be in doubt, but, if oftener than
once, they might be persuaded that all he
had said would come to pass; and ear-
nestly desired them to take his corpse out
to Airsmoss, and bury him beside Richie-—
meaning Mr Richard Cameron—that he
might have rest in his grave, for he had got
little during his life. But he said, bury
him where they would, he would be lifted
again; but the man who would first put
hands to his corpse, four things would befall
him :——1st, He would get a great fall from
a house. 2dly, He would fall into adul-
tery. 3dly, In theft, and for that he should
leave the land. 4thly, Make a melancholy
end abroad for murder.” All which came
to pass. This man was one Murdoch, a
mason by trade, but then in the military
service, being the first man who put his
hands to his corpse.
Peden had for some time been too credu-
lous in believing the obliquous misrepresen—
tations of some false brethren concerning
Mr James Renwick, whereby he was much
alienated from him; which exceedingly
grieved Mr Renwick, stumbled some of his
followers, and confirmed some of his adver-
saries, who boasted that now Peden was
turned his enemy. But now, when dying,
he sent for him. Mr Renwick came to
him in all haste, and found him lying in a
very low state. \Vhen he came in, he
raised himself upon his elbow, with his head
on his hand, and said, “Are you the Mr
James Renwick there is so much noise
about ?” He answered, “Father, my name
is James Renwick, but I have given the
world no ground to make any noise about
me, for I have espoused no new principles



606
SCOTS WORTHIES.




or practices, but what our reformers and
Covenanters maintainec .” He caused him
to sit down, and give him an account of
his conversion, principles, and call to the
ministry. All which Mr Renwick did, in
a most distinct manner. When ended,
Peden said,“ Sir, you have answered me
to my soul’s satisfaction; I am very sorry
that I should have believed any such evil
reports of you, which not only quenched
my love to, and marred my sympathy with
you, but made me express myself so bitterly
against you, for which I have sadly smarted.
But, Sir, ere you go, you must pray for me,
for I am old, and going to leave the world.”
This he did with more than ordinary en-
largement. When ended, Peden took him
by the hand, and drew him to him, and
kissed him, saying, “ Sir, I find you a faith-
ful servant to your Master ; go on in single
dependence upon the Lord, and ye will get
honestly through, and clear off the stage,
when many others who hold their heads
high, will lie in the mire, and make foul
hands and garments.” And then he prayed
that the Lord might spirit, strengthen, sup-
port, and comfort him in all his duties and
(IIITICUIILIOS.*
A little before his death, he said, “ Ye
will all be displeased where I will be buried
at last; but I. charge you not to lift my
corpse again.” At last, one morning early
he left the cave, and came to his brother’s
door. His brother’s wife said, “ Where are
you going? the enemy will be here.” He
said, “ I know that.” “ Alas! Sir,” said
she, “ what will become of you? you must
go back to the cave again.” He said, “ I
have done with that, for it is discovered;
but there is no matter; for, within forty-
eight hours, I will be beyond the reach of
all the devil’s temptations, and his in stru-


l ments in hell and on earth, and they shall
trouble me no more.” About three hours
after he entered the house the enemy came,
and not having found him in the cave,
searched the barn narrowly, casting the
unthrashed corn, went through the house,
stabbed the beds, but entered not into the
place where he lay. And within forty-eight
hours after this, he closed his pilgrimages
and became an inhabitant of that land,
where the weary are at rest, being beyond
sixty years of age.
He was buried in the laird of Auchin-
leck’s isle, but a troop of dragoons came
and lifted his corpse,* and carried it two
miles, to Cumnock Gallows-foot, after he
had been forty days in the grave, where he
lies buried beside other martyrs.
Thus died Alexander Peden, so much
famed for his singular piety, zeal, and faith-
fulness, and indefatigableness in the duty of
prayer ; but especially who exceeded all we
have heard of in latter times, for that gift
of foreseeing and foretelling future events,
both with respect to the church and nation
of Scotland and Ireland, and particular
persons and families, several of which are
already accomplished. A gentleman, when
speaking in his writings of Peden, says,
“ Abundance of this good man’s predictions
are well-known to be already come to pass.”i
And although these things are now made
it After this (says Patrick Walker) that troop of
dragoons came to quarter in Cambusnethan, two of
them were quartered in the house of James Gray,
one of his acquaintances ; and, being frightened in
their sleep, started up, and clapped their hands,
crying, “ Peden, Peden!” These two dragoons
affirmed, that, out of their curiosity, they opened
the coffin to see his body, and it had no smell,
! though he had been forty days dead.
1‘ John Kerr of Kersland, in his Memoirs, page
' 8, where he adds, that when some people were
i going to join Argyle in 1685, Peden, after a short
l ejaculation, bid them stop, for Argyle was fallen a
sacrifice that minute. Some taking out their watches,
marked the time, which accordingly answered to his
being taken


f' Some have doubted of the certainty of this
interview; however, there is no seemingimproba-
bility in it; nor is it any disparagement to either
Peden or Mr Renwick.
l__¥
JOHN BLACKADDER. 607



to stoop or yield to the force of ridicule, with the Spirit of God, that the secrets of
and the sarcasms of the profane, and the the Lord both have been, are, and will be,
fashions of an atheistical age and genera- with them who fear his name.
tion; yet we must believe and conclude

JOHN BLACKADDER.

JoHN BLACKADDER was a lineal descen- to hear- him, He cateehised the parish
dent, and the only representative of the Once every halflyean and formed a, Plan
house of Tulliallan. After he had gone with two of his brethren, Mr Weleh of
through his course of classical learning, Irongrayaand MI- Jehnstene ef Leehrntten,
he was ordained minister of the gospel at of visiting on certain occasions, the parishes
Troqueer, in the neighbourhood of Dum- of each other. The presbytery, when the
fries. Being nominated by the unanimous ppgposal was made, agreed to it at Once,
voice of the people, he received ordination The united labours Of these brethren were
from the presbytery of Dumfries, and Wes attended with considerable success. Indeed,
admitted to his benefice, June 7th, 1653- the happy effects of Blackadder’s labours
N0 Seenel‘ had Blaekeddel‘ Cemmenced were soon visible in the altered lives and
his labours, than fil‘St GXGI‘tlOHS were conduct ()f agreat many 0f his Parishioners,
directed to the Suppression of Viee and PI'O- Two years had scarcely elapsed, when, over
fanity,-—-a WOI‘k rendered the mere difficlllt, all the parish, there prevailed an exemplary
as it was necessary in the present ease to regularity in the performance of the duties
begin With the eldership, WhO appear, of private and public worship. Religious
through complete indolence, to have suf- knowledge increased, and household prayer
fered all proper discipline to fall into disuse. was ahnost, universally attended te, Black-
This accomplished, Blackadder made next ' adder was very attentive in his visitation of
an effort 011 his PaPiShiOHeI‘S; and, as he sick persons, and, indeed, all who laboured
found them completely ignel‘ent 0n the under any distress, whether of body or of
matter, he commanded the Session Records mind, The Preper discharge of this duty
to be produced. After this, he appointed appeared to him one of the most difficult
teachers, who were instructed at once to . and delicate parts of his work. To suit
reason with heretics, and to expound the i himself to the different tempers and cir-
Scriptures to those whose intellectual facul- i eumstances of men__to Preach to the eon-
ties were naturally weak. His own Sab- ’ Seienee__te Warn the sinner of his peril-_
bath discourses had chiefly for their object } and to unfold the Premises ef divine grace,
the instruction of his hearers in the ele- ‘ appeared to him to require no ordinary
mental)’ Parts of I‘eligien- In addition '50 prudence. Blackadder was rather reserve
this he had weekly sermons, which, though l in his usual intercourse with his people,
addressed especially to Converts, became and he seldom consented, though always
soon 50 Popular: that not only his Own i asked, to attend parties at feasts, marriages,
people, but we are told several honest and or baptisms_
godly Persons from other Perishes HOCked In this manner, Blackadder continued




608
SCOTS WORTHIES.



faithfully to discharge his official duties,
until, with a number more of eminent minis-
ters, he was ejected from his charge by the
infamous act of Glasgow, 1662. This act
was preceded by several encroachments.
which were fitted to excite suspicion and
alarm on the part of the ministers. On
this occasion, Blackadder stood manfully
at his post; and for three Sabbaths pre-
vious to his final ejectment, he testified
from the pulpit against the abuses and
enormities of the age. It so happened
that the last Sabbath was the one set apart
in Edinburgh for the consecration of the
new bishops, and Blackadder is said to have
entered his protest against the ceremony,
before the congregation.
When the parliament met, the first of
their proceedings, which gave general dis-
satisfaction, was the ratification of the act
in question. Against it the Dumfries Pres-
bytery protested, as being utterly at vari-
ance with all the previous practices and
laws of the church. But, on other grounds,
the act was quite objectionable, as it vir-
tually condemned as rebellious all the acts
of the General Assembly for the last twenty
years. When news of the proceedings of
the Presbytery of Dumfries had reached
Edinburgh, the commissioner immediately
despatched a military force to that town,
with orders to place the whole sacred court
under arrest. Accordingly, a troop of fifty
horse, under a certain captain Scott, ar-
rived at Dumfries on Monday evening, but
found that several of the ministers, aware
of their intentions, had alreadyfled. Among
these were the two ministers of Dumfries,
Mr Campbell and Mr Henderson. Black-
adder had, in their absence, been requested
by the magistrates to supply their place,
and had actually commenced, when the
military arriving, he judged it prudent to
desist, not choosing to bring a stranger
congregation into difficulties by any rash
expression that might escape his own lips.

On Monday, an order was sent round to
all the clergy within the bounds, to present
themselves before the commissioner, and
march next day as prisoners to Edinburgh.
As this proved rather inconvenient, Tues—
day being appointed for the meeting of
presbytery, his lordship was graciously
pleased to postpone the time of their depar-
ture till Wednesday. Four gentlemen of
the guard waited upon them after dinner
for the purpose of ascertaining their minds
relative to their intended journey. The
brethren politely offered them wine, and
though the invitation was complied with, yet,
fearing a tumult, the captain requested that
next morning by ten o’clock, they would,
in as private a manner as possible, leave
the town. They complied with this re-
quest; and, when within half-a-mile of
Edinburgh, they were desired to ride in
before the commander, who appears to
have been afraid of popular clamour had
he ventured to treat them as prisoners.
With this proposal the ministers appear to
have agreed. Next day they were brought
before the court, and after a few interroga-
tories, were allowed to return to their own
parishes,——a favour which it seems was
procured to Blackadder by some of his
friends. Here, however, Blackadder was
not long permitted to remain. By the
severe orders of the court he was soon
obliged to leave his charge, which he accord-
ingly did on the last Sabbath of October,
after taking farewell of his sorrowing and
affectionate people in a pathetic and ener~
getic discourse.
From Troqueer Blackadder removed to
Glencairn, ten miles distant, in the begin~
ning of October, 1662. As the parish
was quite sequestered, he had great hopes
that the persecuting party would allow him
to remain unmolested; and, accordingly,
after residing there for about three months,
he resumed his public duties, and in Feb-
ruary, 1663, he ventured back to his old




JOHN BLAOKADDER.
609







parish, where he visited, catechised, and lec- administration, Blackadder was invited to
tured privately. The consequence of this was,
that letters of council were directed against
him, and about a dozen of his confederates,
namely, Welch, Semple, Arnot, and Peden, for
performing a number of acts connected with
the ministerial function. The consequence
was, that he resolved forthwith to depart the
country 3* and, as Edinburgh seemed to offer
the likeliest opportunity for concealment, he
determined to direct his steps thither, and,
accordingly, in a short time, became a resident,
along with his family, in that ancient capital.
Procuring a private lodging in the Canongate,
be there spent the remainder of the winter,
being disabled from preaching by a severe
illness. He attended, however, during the
following summer, a number of private meet-
ings in the Grassmarket, being joined by
about seven or eight ministers from Nithsdale
in Galloway.
The defeat at Pentland hills interrupted
these conventicles. Blackadder was at that
time in Edinburgh, and had it not been for the
unfavourable accounts which he received of
the state of the Covenanters’ army, would
assuredly have joined them on that occasion.
During the murderous executions which fol-
lowed the engagement, Blackadder had an
opportunity of extending his humanity to his
suffering countrymen in the south. In Sep-
tember, 1668, under the auspices of a milder
* On Saturday, he took his leave of his parishioners to seek a
place of safety. Next day, the soldiers attacked the manse in quest
of him, and behaved with great insolence to his wife and young
family. One of his sons, then a child, narrates what happened :—
“ A party of the king’s life-guard of horse, came from Dumfries to
Troqueer to search for and apprehend my father, for what occasion
I know not; whether he stayed beyond the set day for transporting
himself and numerous family of small children ten miles from his
parish church, or because he was of the number of those who re-
fused to observe the 29th of May. So soon as the above party
entered the close, and came into the house, cursing and swearing,
we, that were children, were frightened out of our little Wits, and
ran up stairs, and I among them; who, when I heard them all
roaring in the room below, had the childish curiosity to get down
upon my belly, and peep through a hole in the floor, to see what
monsters of creatures they were ; and it seems they were monsters
indeed for cruelty; for one of them perceiving what I was doing,
immediately drew his sword, and thrust it up, with all his force,
where I was peeping, so that the mark of the point was scarce an
inch from the hole, though no thanks to the murdering rufiian, who
designed to run it up through my eye. Immediately after, we were
forced to pack up, bag and baggage, and to remove to Glencairn,
ten miles from Troqueer. We who were children were put into
cadgcrs’ creels, where one of us cried out coming through the
Brigend of Dumfries, ‘ I’m banish’t, I’m hanish’t.’ One happened
to ask, ‘Who has banish’t ye, my bairn '9’ he answered, ‘ Byte-the-
sheep (the Bishop) has banish’t me.’ ”

preach and dispense ordinances in various
parishes in the west of Scotland. In Dunlop,
he baptized forty-two children in one house ;
and in the manse of Newmills, eleven. Similar
duties were performed by him at Eaglesham,
——always at night, for fear of discovery. The
new administration was much more liberal
than the former, in consequence of which, for
more than a year, he was permitted to preach
in Edinburgh. In January, 1669, he received
a second and pressing call to the west, in
consequence of which he went to Fenwick, on
January 28, and preached there a public dis-
course, being the first which the people of the
place had listened to from any of the perse-
cuted ministers, since the battle of Pentland.
Here his labours were so great, and his exer-
tions for the spiritual benefit of the people so
unremitting, that his health suffered materi-
ally. Being advised by the physicians to try
the benefit of the mineral waters at Newmills,
he went there annually for seven years, re-
maining generally about the space of six weeks.
The same year he went over to Fife, where he
staid a few days in Strathmiglo, and preached
to numerous crowds, who flocked from all
quarters to hear him.
Government began to take alarm at these
conventicles ; ministers were forbidden to
ofiiciate at them under pain of final imprison-
ment, and the military were called out to carry
into effect the rigorous enactments of the
court. Among the first armed conventicles,
as they were called, was that kept by Black-
adder at Beith-hill, on the 18th of June,
1670. Though he foresaw the risk which he
ran, yet love to the souls of men made him
encounter all hazards. He requested Mr
Dickson, who willingly consented, to assist
him on the occasion.
Exaggerated reports of this conventiclc
spread over all the country. The two minis-
ters were summoned to appear before the
council, August 11 ; but failing to answer the
citation, they were denounced, and put to the
king’ s horn. Blackadder concealed himself
in Edinburgh; but a strict search being in-
stituted, he was compelled to fly to the Merse,
where he remained until the tumult subsided,
when he again showed himself ; and, resuming
his public ministrations, he preached at Mor-
dington, and several other parishes. In the
spring of 1671, he visited Borrowstounness,
_ and the neighbourhood.4 Feeling rather indis-
* H





610
SCOTS WORTHIES.

posed, he intended to keep himself private;
but early on Sabbath morning, lady Hilder-
stone’s house, where he had taken up his re-
sidence, was surrounded by vast crowds of
people, Who insisted upon his coming out to
address them. For this meeting, lady Hilder-
stone, her son, and many of the people, were
severely fined. All this, however, could not
abate the ardour of the people from favouring
field-preaching. Scarcely three weeks after the
meeting at Hilderstone, Blackadder preached
at the Black Dub at Livingstone. He left
Edinburgh early in the morning, and returned
the same evening. His reason for doing this
was to prevent the people from being brought
into trouble on his account, which certainly
would have been the case had the rumour gone
abroad that he was harbouring among them.
Sentence of outlawry was this year passed upon
him, but this did not discourage him from
still continuing to preach the gospel. Accor-
dingly, we find him, about the end of summer,
addressing a vast assemblage of people near
Lillies-leaf, in Roxburghshire. In the same
year also, he frequently dispensed the sacra—
ment of the supper in the open fields.* The
communions principally noted, and most
numerously attended, were four, viz., Kirk-
cudbright, Irongray, Carrick, and East Nisbet,
in the Merse. Next year, 167 8, Blackadder
was invited to preach at Devon in Fife ; and
in July, the same year, he held a meeting
* Multitudes, amidst persecution and contempt, dared to follow
those who went forth to the moors and the mountains preaching
the everlasting gospel. Fines, imprisonment, tortures, and death,
were each in their turn employed, yet the spirit of the Covenanters
remained unbroken. They took joyfully the spoiling of their goods.
They met in the lone glen, or on the wild moor, by day and by
night, that they might listen to the truth of God from the lips of
those by whom they believed it was best taught. They had their
seasons of communion also; though their passover was indeed eaten
in haste ; for the watches sat on the neighbouring heights to give
the alarm if the persecutors came in sight. Yet these were times
of great refreshing: multitudes were pricked to the heart. It seemed
as if God had touched the lips of the Ministers with a live coal from
his altar. One who was often at these communions, says, “ Though
our vows were not offered within the courts of God’s house, they
wanted not sincerity of heart, which is better than the reverence of
sanctuaries: We offered up our gratitude, and sung with a joyful
voice to the Rock of our salvation.” The melody most frequently
used in singing their psalms was that called “ The Martyrs ; ” and
in some parts of Scotland, this tune has been handed down by a
rude rhyme,—
“ This was the tune the martyrs sang,
when they were gaen to dee,
When at the gallows tree they stood,
their God to glorifie.”


near Culross, about a mile from Blairhole, the
ancient ‘residence of his ancestors. After-
wards, he was invited to preach at Caitloch,
where he found a large assembly had collected.
A short account of what took place here is
given in the life of Mr Welch. Blackadder
seems to have been employed only in the table
services. He was, however, engaged on the
Monday following. On the Sabbath previous
to the meeting at Drumclog, he ventured to
preach at Fala-moor in Livingstone. A severe
rheumatism confined him for a month after-
wards to his room, during which time the
battle of Bothwell Bridge was fought; in
consequence of which he could not be impli-
cated as having any personal share in it. In-
deed, he appears to have had considerable
doubts as to the propriety of the risings which
were on that occasion suppressed. He did
not, however, in the least, shrink from the
discharge of his duty, and immediately after
the act of indemnity and indulgence, which
permitted conventicles to be held in private
houses, he still persevered in his own practice
of preaching publicly in the open air. These
meetings raised a great outcry; but Black-
adder, nothing daunted, was found next Week
preaching at lord Torphichen’s with greater
boldness than before. The kirk was within
hearing, where the curate was haranguing to
sixteen persons. From thence he Went to
Borrowstounness, where the meeting was
dispersed by the soldiers from Blackness, and
he himself nearly taken. After this, Black-
adder preached at Kirkaldy, Galawater, and
Livingstone.
About the end of May, 1680, he resolved
on a voyage for Holland, as his eldest son was
about to commence the study of medicine at
Leyden; and Cltll'lllg‘ his stay at Rotterdam,
which lasted fifteen weeks, he preached every
Sabbath. About the end of September he
returned to Scotland again; and, what is very
remarkable, arrived in Edinburgh on the very
day that Mr John Dickson was sent prisoner
to the Bass.
We find him in January, 1681, visiting Tro-
queer, at the request of his old parishioners, and
preaching at a great variety of places, which it
would be too tedious to mention, both on his
way thither and on his return to Edinburgh.
He concluded his public labours in East Lo-
thian about ten days before hewas apprehended.
The circumstances which atl ended his capture



JOHN BLACKADDER.
611


and examination, are as follows :— On Tues-
day morning, April 5, the party came to
his house before he arose. His daughter
and servant were up. About five or six
o’clock one knocked softly at the hanging
gate; she opened the door, and it proved
to he Johnston, the town-major, with a
party at his back, who came into the hall,
and asked if there were any strangers in
the house. She said, No. Yet he came
to the chamber where her father was lying,
putting the end of his staff to the side of
the curtain, and then went up stairs to the
gallery, where the minister used to stay, and
found only his son lying in the bed, and
came down again to the chamber, saying
to the minister’s wife, “Mistress, desire
your husband to rise.” He, looking forth
out of the bed, said, “ How now, Major, is
that you; I am not surprised, but where is
your order ‘5” The other said, “ You are
only to rise and come down to a friend in
the Oanongate.” “ Well,” said the minis-
ter, “ if I were dressed, I am ready.”
Meantime he spoke quietly to his men to
But he himself stept
forth and went quickly to Dalziel in the
Oanongate. After he returned, the minis-
ter calling for a drink, sought a blessing,
and caused give them all to drink, and
wait on the prisoner.
went forth; his wife being very sickly, yet ‘
behaved more quietly than he could have
believed. The major took him down the
Oowgate, himself on the one hand, and the j
1 science, or make any difference betwixt
minister’s son Thomas on the other, the
party following, and brought him to Dal-
ziel’s lodgings, near the foot of the Canon- ;


yet who he was, nor what was laid to his
charge till afterward, as the minister per--
ceived by a strange alteration of his calm-
ness to him when he came to the court at
twelve o’clock.
The minister, finding him in such ill-
mood, turned about, and came away with
the major, who put him not in the common
guard. At eleven o’clock, he was brought
before the common council, when the fol-
lowing questions were proposed :-—Ch0m.
Are you a minister? A. I am. Chan.
Where, and how long since? A. At Tro-
queer, in Galloway, since 1653. Chem.
Did you excommunicate the king; or was
you at Torwood at that time? A. I have
not been at Torwood these four years.
Chan. But what do you think of it; do
you approve of it? A. Though I be as
free to answer to that as well as to all the
former; yet I must tell you I came here
to give account of my judgment to no man;
therefore, seeing that this is an interro—
gating of me about my thoughts, I humbly
beg to be excused. Produce a libel, and
I’ll endeavour to answer it as I can. [On
this point he was repeatedly interrogated
by the chancellor and advocate, but to
no purpose] Chan. But do you approve
of taking the king’s life, and condemning
him in soul and body? A. No, I do not,
and no good man will. Chem. But you
have preached in the fields,that is, on moors
and hill-sides ? A. I place no case of con-
preaching in houses or in the fields. Chem.
You know, and no doubt have seen, the
gate. The major went first, the minister laws discharging such preaching? A. My
following, Dalziel himself opening the door. 2 lord, no doubt I have, and I am sorry that
The major told him he had brought the‘
prisoner; Dalziel bade him take him to the
guard.
said, “ May I speak a little?”
rudely raged, “ You, Sir, have spoken too 1
much; I would hang you with my Own
hands over that outshot.”
He knew not ,
there ever should have been laws and acts
made against preaching the gospel. [After
The minister stepping up stairs, this the chancellor rose, and went forth
At which hei with the other two, it being near one
o’clock, their dinner hour.]
On the morning of the second day’s
examination, he sent his son Thomas to


SCOTS WORTHIES.



tell colonel Blackadder, who went and’
informed general Dalziel better what he
was. After that, Dalziel was most calm,
and far from the temper he was in before.
Chan. Have you not been in Fife some-
times, and kept conventicles there? A. No
doubt, my lord, I have been several times
in Fife. Chan. I suppose I be little
obliged to you in Fife, as I hear? A. As
I can put little obligation on a person of
such quality, so I know as little wherein I
have disobliged your lordship.
At two o’clock on Wednesday, captain
Maitland, who was on guard, told the pri-
soner that he was to carry him up to the
council at three, and desired him to be
ready. When he came to the Parliament
Close, the captain sent four soldiers to wait
on the prisoner in an outer room, till he
should be called. He was not called, how-
ever, but sent his son Thomas to inquire
what word was concerning him; who an-
swered, he believed he was sentenced to the
Bass.
This sentence was accordingly carried
into execution. On April 7, 1681, Black-
adder was conveyed from Castleton in an
solicited liberty for him to be brought to
Edinburgh. This, however, was not granted ;
and he was merely allowed to change his
place of residence to Dunbar or Hadding-

open boat to the Bass, where, about five in i
the afternoon, he was delivered to the
governor.
Blackadder continued in this prison for
about four years; after which his health
suffered so severely from the ungenial air of
the place, as to endanger his life. His friends

ton prison, as he might choose. Mean-
while, his distemper, it appears, had in-
creased, and gave symptoms of fatal ter-
mination, which being again represented to
the council, he was at last permitted to
come to the town of Edinburgh. The order
came too late, for Blackadder had already
died. He was subsequently buried in the
churchyard of North Berwick, where a
handsome tombstone still marks his grave,
containing the following epitaph :—
Blest John, for Jesus‘ sake, in Patmos bound,
His prison Bethel, Patmos Pisgah found:
So the bless’d John, on yonder rock confined,
His body suffer’d, but no chains could bind
His heaven-aspiring soul ; while day by day,
As from Mount Pisgah’s top, he did survey
The promised land, and view’d the crown by faith
Laid up for those who faithful are till death.
Grace form’d him in the Christian Hero’s mould-—
Meek in his own concerns—in’s Master’s bold ;
Passions to Reason chained, Prudence did lead ;
Zeal warm’d his breast, and reason cool’d his head.
Five years on the lone rock, yet sweet abode,
He Enoch-like enjoy’d, and walk’d with God;
Till, by long living on this heavenly food,
His soul by love grew up too great, too good
To be confined tojail, or flesh and blood.
1 Death broke his fetters off, then swift he fled
From sin and sorrow; and, by angels led,
Enter’d the mansions of eternal joy ;—
Blest soul, thy warfare’s done, praise, love, enjoy!
His dust here rests till Jesus come again,-
Even so, blest Jesus, come. Come, Lord. Amen.

JAMES
RENWICK.
JAMES RENWIcK was born in the parish of
Glencairn in Nithsdale, February 15, 1662.
His parents, though not rich, were yet ex-
emplary for piety. His father, Andrew
er, Elizabeth Corsan, had several children
before James, who died young; for which,
when his mother was giving forcible ex-
pression to her sorrow, her husband used
Renwick, a weaver by trade, and his moth-
to comfort her with declaring, that he was


JAMES RENWICK.
613


well satisfied to have children, whether
they lived or died, young or old, providing
they might be heirs of glory. This, how~
ever, did not satisfy her: for in her prayers
to God, she entreated for a child that
might not only be an heir of glory, but
might live to serve him in his generation ;
whereupon, when James was born, she took
it as an answer of prayer, and regarded
herself as lying under manifold engage-
ments to dedicate him to the Lord.
After James had learned to read the
Bible, when about six years old, the Lord
gave him some tokens of future grace,
training him in his way, exercising him‘
with doubts and debates above childish ap-
prehension, about the Maker of all things,
how all things were made, and for what?
end; and with strange suppositions of so
many invisible worlds, above and beneath,
with which he was transported into a train
of musing, and continued in this exercise
for about the space of two years, until he,
by prayer and meditation on the history of ;
the creation, came to a thorough belief ;
that God made all things, and that all
which he made was very good. And yet
after he came to more maturity, he relap-
sed to a deeper labyrinth of darkness about
these foundation truths, and Was so assault-
ed with temptations of atheism, that being
in the fields and looking to the mountains,
he said, “ If these were all devouring fur-
naces of burning brimstone, he would be
content to go through them all, if so he
could be assured there was a God.”
Out of which he emerged, through grace,
into the sweet serenity of a settled per-;
suasion of the being of a God, and of his V
i and patience, especially after the death of
interest in him.
From his younger years he was remark-
able for obedience to his parents, whose
orders, if they had spoken of putting him to
any trade, he would cheerfully have com--
plied with ; yet his own taste was decided~
ly literary. until Providence at last saw


1
proper to gratify him, by raising friends
who were so enamoured of his hopeful
disposition, that they took him to Edin-
burgh and earnestly promoted his education.
When he was ready for the university,
they encouraged him to engage in teaching
the sons of the gentry for mutual improve-
ment,—this kind of society, however, as
usually happens, enticed him, with others,
‘ to spend too much of his time in gaming
and recreations. This was the reason that
some who knew him not took occasion
to reproach him in after years, with pro-
fanity and flagitiousness, which his nature
ever abhorred. When his time at the col-
lege drew near an end, he evinced such a
tenderness of offending God, &c., that upon
his refusal of the oath of allegiance then
tendered, he was denied his share of the
public solemnity of laureation with the rest
of the candidates, but received it privately
at Edinburgh. After which he continued
his studies, attending on the then private
and persecuted meetings for gospel-ordi-
nances for a time.
But upon a deplorable discovery of the
unfaithfulness of the generality even of
nonconformist ministers, he was again for
some time plunged in the deeps of darkness,
doubting what should be the end of such
backsliding courses: until, upon a stricter
search after such ministers as were most
free from these defections, he found more
light, and his knowledge of the iniquity of
these courses augmented, and his zeal in-
creased. And being more confirmed, when
he beheld how signally the faithful minis~
ters were owned of the Lord, and carried
off the stage with great steadfastness, faith,
that faithful minister and martyr, Mr
Donald Cargill, at whose execution he was
present, July 27, 1681, he was so moved,
that he determined to embark with these
witnesses in that cause for which they suf-
fered; and he was afterwards so strength-



SCOTS WORTHIES.


ened and established in that resolution,
getting instructions about these things in
and from the word, so sealed with a strong
hand upon his soul, that all the temptations,
tribulations, trials, oppositions and contra-
dictions he met with from all hands to the
day of his death, could never afterwards in
the least unsettle his faith.
and upon grounds of scripture and reason,
he, in October, 1681, accordingly held a
meeting with some of these faithful wit-
nesses of Christ, and conferred about the
testimonies of some other martyrs lately
executed, which he was very earnest al-
ways to gather and keep on record, refresh-
ing them greatly, by discourse, in which he
showed how much he was grieved and of-
fended with those who heard the curates,
pleaded for cess-paying, and defended the
owning of the tyrant’s authority, and how
sad it was to him that none were giving a
formal testimony against these things. In
the end he added, “That he would think
it a great ease to his mind to know and be
engaged with a remnant that would singly
prosecute and propagate the testimony
against the corruptions of the times to the
succeeding generations, and would desire
nothing more than to be helped to be ser-
viceable to them.”
At his first coming among them, he
could not but be taken notice of; for, while
some were speaking of removing the bodies
of the martyrs lately executed at the Gal
lowlee, Renwick was very forward to pro-
mote it; and when those who adhered to
the testimony, as revised by Messrs Cameron
and Cargill, towards the end of 1681, began
to settle a correspondence for preserving
union, understanding one another’s minds,
and preventing declensions to right or left-
hand extremes, and agreed on emitting that
declaration published at Lanark, January
12, 1682,Renwick was employed proclaim-
ing it, but had no hand in the penning



Cn the strength of these conclusionss

thereof, otherwise it might have been. more
considerately worded than what it was;
for, though he approved of the matter of it,
yet he always acknowledged there were
some expressions therein rather unadvised.
After publishing this declaration, the
next general meeting—finding themselves
‘ reproached, and informed against both at
home, and abroad in foreign churches, as if
they had fallen fi'om the principles of the
Church of Scotland—thought it expedient
to send the laird of Earlstoun to the United
Provinces to vindicate themselves from
these reproaches, and to crave that sym-
pathy which they could not obtain from
their own countrymen. This at length,
through mercy, proved so encouraging to
them, that a door was opened to provide
for a succession of faithful ministers, by
sending some to be fitted for the work of
the ministry there. Accordingly, Renwick,
with some others, went thither. His com-
rades were ready, and sailed before, which
made him anxious to follow.
When he went over, he was settled at
the University of Groningen, where he
plied his studies so hard, and with such
success, that, from the necessities of his
friends in Scotland, who were longing for
his labours, and his own ardent desire to
be at the work, in a short time he was
ready for ordination. To hasten this, his
dear friend Mr Robert Hamilton, who
merited so much of those who reaped the
benefit of Renwick’s labours afterwards,
applied to one Mr Brakel, a godly Dutch
minister, who was much delighted at first
with the motion, and advised it should be
done at Embden; but this could not be ob-
tained, because the principal man there who
was to have the management of the affair,
was in his judgment Cocceian. Whereupon,
Mr Hamilton solicited the classes of Cron-
ingen to undertake it; which they willingly
promised to do; and calling for the testi-
monials of Renwick, and the rest who went

L‘
JAMES RENWICK.
615




over at that time, Renwick’s was produced
—-being providentially in readiness when
the others were wanting-and though
in a rude dress, were sustained. The
classes being convened, they were called
in and had an open harangue, wherein
open testimony was given against all the
forms and corruptions of their'church; at
which they were so far from being offended,
that, after a solemn consideration of their
cause, they declared it was the Lord’s, and
cost what it would, though all the kings of
the earth were against it, they would go
through with it. They all three should
have passed together, but upon some dis-
content arising, the other two were retarded.
It was the custom of the place, that every
one that passes must pay twenty guilders
for the use of the church; but the classes
jointly declared, that they would be at all
the charges themselves.
The next difficulty was, that, being told
it was impossible for any to pass without
subscribing their Catechism, and observing
that their forms and corruptions are there-
in justified, Renwick resolutely answered,
“ He would do no such thing, being en-
gaged by a solemn covenant to the con-
trary.” This was like to spoil all; but at
last they consented that he subscribe the
Confession and Catechism of the Church
of Scotland,—a practice never before heard
of in that land; which was accepted. On

classes. With this solemnity the classes
were so much affected, that at dinner, to
which he and his friends were invited, the
preses declared the great satisfaction all the
brethren had in Renwick; that they thought
the whole time he was before them, he was
so filled with the Spirit of God, that his face
seemed to shine; and that they had never
seen or found so much of the Lords Spirit
accompanying any work as that. But no
sooner were these difficulties over, than
others of a more disagreeable aspect began
to arise, which, if they had appeared but
one day sooner, might have stopped the
ordination, at least for a time. On the
very next day, Mr Brakel told them, that a
formal libel was coming from the Scottish
ministers at Rotterdam, containing heavy
accusations against the poor society-people
in Scotland, which they behoved either to
vindicate, or else the ordination must be
stopped; but this being too late as to Ren-
wick, it came to nothing at last.
After his ordination, he was very desir-
ous of improving his talents for the poor
persecuted people in Scotland; and having
received large testimonials of his ordination
and learning—particularly in the Hebrew
and Greek tongues—from the classes, and
finding a ship ready to sail, he embarked at
the Brill; but, waiting some days upon a
wind, he was so discouraged by some pro-
fane passengers pressing the king’s health,
the day of ordination, Renwick was called t that he was forced to leave that vessel, and
in a very respectful way. ' After spending
some time in prayer, the examination he-
gan, which lasted from ten in the morning
to two o’clock in the afternoon. Then his
friends, who were attending in the church,
were called in, amongst whom was his
honoured friend Mr Hamilton, and another
elder of the Church of Scotland, to be wit-
ness to the laying on of the hands ; which,
after the exhortation, they performed with
prayer, the whole meeting melting in tears ;
and thereafter, he had a discourse to the

take another bound for Ireland. A sea-
storm compelled them to put in to Rye har-
bour in England, about the time when there
was so much noise of the Ryehouse plot,
which created him no small danger; but,
after many perils at sea, he arrived safe at
Dublin, where he had many conflicts with
the ministers there. anent their defections
and indifference; and yet in such a gain-
ing and gospel-way, that he left convictions
on their spirits of his being a pious and
, zealous youth, which induced them to assist



616
SCOTS WORTHIES.


him in procuring a speedy passage to Scot-
land. In this passage he had consider-
able dangers, and a prospect of more, as not
knowing how or where he should come to
land, all ports being then so strictly ob-
served, and the skipper refusing to let him
go till his name was given up. But yet at
last he was prevailed on to give him a cast
to the shore, where he began his weary and
uncertain wanderings—which continued
with him till he was apprehended—through
an unknown wilderness, amongst unknown
people, it being some time before he could
meet with any of the societies.
In September, 1683, be commenced his
ministerial work in Scotland, taking up the
testimony of the standard of Christ where
it was fixed, and had fallen at the removal
of the former witnesses, Messrs Cameron
and Cargill, which, in the strength of his
Master, he undertook to prosecute and
maintain against opposition from all hands.
In the midst of these difficulties, he was
received by a poor persecuted people, who
had lost all their worldly means of enjoy-
ment, for the sake of the gospel. His first
public meeting was in a moss at Darmead,
where, for their information and his own
vindication, he thought it expedient not
only to let them know how he was called
to the ministry, and what he adhered to,
but also to unbosom himself about the per-
plexing questions of the time, particularly
concerning ministers’ defections, showing
whom he could not join with, and his rea-
sons for so doing; and, in the end, told
them on what grounds he stood.
After this, many other attempts were
made, not only by the profane, but even by
many professors; some saying, he had
excommunicated all the ministers in Scot-
land, and some after they ‘were dead;
whereas, he only gave reasons why he
could not keep communion with them in
the present circumstances. Others said,
that he was no Presbyterian, and that his

design was only to propagate schism. But
the truth was, he was a professed witness
against all the defections of Presbyterians
from any part of their covenanted work of
reformation. Again, other ministers al~
leged he was a Sectarian, Independent, or
Anabaptist, or they knew not what. But
when he had sometimes occasion to be
among them, in and about Newcastle and
Northumberland, they were as much of-
fended as any at his faithful freedom in
discovering the evil of their way, and de-
clared that they had never met with such
severe dealing from any Presbyterian be-
fore him.
But the general outcry was, that he had
no mission at all. Others slandering him,
that he came only by chance, at a throw of
the dice; with many other calumnies, re-
futed by the foregoing relation.
On the other hand, some gave out that
he and his followers maintained the mur-
dering principles and the delirious and
detestable blasphemies of Gibb; all which
shameless and senseless fictions he ever
opposed and abhorred. Yea, some minis.-
ters, more seemingly serious in their essays
to prepossess the people against him, said,
“ That they had sought and got the mind
of the Lord in it, that his labours should
never profit the Church of Scotland, nor
any soul in it,” assuring themselves he
would break, and bring to nothing, him
and them that followed him ere it were
long; comparing them to .Iannes and J a1n--
bres, who withstood Moses. All which
reproaches he was remarkably supported
under, and went on in his Master’s business,
while he had any work for him to do.
In the mean time, the noise that went
through the country concerning him, at-
tracted the notice of the council; and, being
enraged at the report of his preaching in
the fields, they raised a hotter and more
cruel persecution against him than had ever
been the case before respecting any one man



JAMES RENWICK.
617


\ *4_.i1___7.7 .__. .. ...¢ 1
in the nation. For, having publicly pro-
claimed him a traitor and rebel, they pro-
ceeded to pursue his followers with all the
rigour that hellish fury and malice could
suggest or invent; and yet the more they
opposed, the more they grew and increased.
In 1684, his difficulties from enemies,
and discouragements from friends opposed
to him, and manifold vexations from all
hands, began to increase more and more;
yet, all the while, he would not intermit
one day’s preaching, but was still incessant
and undaunted in his work. This made
the ministers inform against him, as if he
had intruded upon other men’s labours;
alleging, that when another minister had
engaged to preach in a place, he unexpec-
tedly came and preached in the same
parish. They instanced one time near
Paisley; in which case he went upon a call
from several in that bounds, without know-
ing whether there was such a minister in
that country. It is confessed, that he had
sometimes taken the churches to preach in,
when either the weather, instant hazard at
the time, or respect to secrecy and safety,
did exclude from every other place. But,
could this be called intrusion, to creep into
the church for one night, when they could
not stand, nor durst they be seen without?
This year, in prosecution of a cruel in-
formation, the soldiers became more vigilant
in their indefatigable diligence to seek and
hunt after him ; and from them he had
many remarkable deliverances: particularly
in the month of July he had one when he
was going to a meeting; a countryman, see-
ing him wearied, gave him a horse for some
miles to ride on, they were surprised by
lieutenant Dundas and a party of dragoons.
The two men with him were taken and

pitifully wounded. He escaped their hands, 5
' trade of destroying innocents.
and went up Dungavel hill ; but was so
closely pursued—they being so near that
they fired at him all the time—that he was
forced to leave the horse, losing thereby his

cloakbag, with many papers. Seeing no
>’_._.
other refuge, he fled, in their sight, towards
a heap of stones, where, for a. little moment,
getting out of their sight, he found a ho]-
low place into which he crept; and com~
mitting himself by earnest ejaculation to
God, in submission to live or die; and also
believing, that he should be reserved for
greater work, that part of Scripture often
coming into his mind, Psalm vi. 8, “ De-
part from me all ye workers of iniquity,”
together with these words, Psalm xci. 11,
“ F or he shall give his angels charge,” &e-
In the mean time, the enemy searched up
and down the hill, yet were restrained from
looking into that place where he was.
Many such sore and desperate chases he
and those with him met; some continuing
whole nights and days without intermission,
in the wildest places of the country, for
many miles together, without so much as a
possibility of escaping the sight of those
who pursued them.
This year (September 24), letters of
intercommuning were issued out against
him, commanding all to him no reset
or supply, nor furnish him with meat, drink,
house, harbour, or anything useful to him ;
and requiring all sheriffs to apprehend and
commit to prison his person, wherever they
could find him ; by virtue of which the suf-
ferers were reduced to incredible straits,
not only in being murdered, but also from
hunger, cold, harassings, &c. ; in which
perplexity, being neither able to flee, nor
fight, they were forced to publish an apolo-
getical representation of the approved prin-
ciples and practices, and covenant—engage-
ments of our Reformers, and to enforce and
reduce to practice that privilege of extra-
ordinary executing of judgment, on the
murdering beasts of prey, who made a daily
when this
declaration was first proposed, Renwick
was somewhat averse to it, fearing the sad
effects it might produce; but, considering‘





4 1
618
SCOTS WORTHIES.





the necessity of the case would admit of no
delay, he consented, and concurred in the
publication thereof. Accordingly it was
fixed upon several market-crosses and
parish-church doors, November 8, 1684.
After the publication of this declaration,
rage and reproach seemed to strive which
should show the greatest violence against
the publishers and owners of it. The coun—
cil published a proclamation for discovering
such as own, or will not disown it; requir—
in g that none above the age of sixteen travel
without a pass, and that any who would
apprehend any of them should have 500
merks for each person; and that every one
should take the oath of abjuration ; where-
by the temptation and hazard became so
dreadful, that many were shot instantly in
the fields; others, refusing the oath, were
brought in, sentenced and executed in one
day; yea, spectators at executions were
required to say, whether these men suffered
justly or not. All which disastrous effects
Renwick, with a sad and troubled heart,
observed, and was often heard to say, that
he wished from his heart the declaration
had never been published.
Neither was the year 1685 anything
better. For it became now the enemy’s
greatest ambition and emulation who could
destroy most of these poor wandering
mountain-men—as they were called—and
when they had spent all their balls, they
were nothing nearer their purpose than
when they began; for the more they were
afilicted, the more they grew. “ The bush
did burn, but was not consumed, because
the Lord was in the bush.”
Charles II. being dead, and the duke of
York, a professed Papist, proclaimed in
February, 1685, Renwick could not let go
this opportunity of witnessing against that
usurpation of a papist upon the government
of the nation, and his design of overturning
the covenanted work of Reformation, and
introducing popery. Accordingly, he and

about 200 men went to Sanquhar, May 28,
1685, and published that declaration, after-
wards called the Sanquhar Declaration.
In the mean time, the Earl of Argyle’s
expedition taking place, Renwick was much
solicited to join with them. He expressed
the esteem he had of his honest and laud—
able intention, and spoke very favourably
of him, declaring his willingness to concur,
if the quarrel and declaration were rightly
stated; but, because it was not concerted
according to the ancient plea of our Scottish
Covenants, he could not agree with them,
which created him a new series of troubles
and reproach, and that from all hands, and
from none more than the indulged.
In 1686, Renwick was constrained to be
more public and explicit in his testimony
against the designs and defections of the
time; wherein he met with more contra-
dictions and oppositions from all hands, and
more discouraging and distracting treat-
ment, even from some who once followed
him; and was much troubled with letters
of accusation against him from many hands.
One of the ministers that came over with
Argyle wrote a very vindictive letter
against him; which letter he answered at
large. He was also traduced, both at home
and abroad, by one Alexander Gordon, who
sometimes joined with that suffering party;
but by none more than one Robert Cath-
cart, in Carrick, who wrote a scurrilous
libel against him, from which Renwick vin-
dicated himself in the plainest terms. But
this not satisfying the said Robert Cathcart,
he did, in the name of his friends in Car-
rick, and the shire of VVigton, though
without the knowledge of the half of them,
take a protest against Renwick’s preaching
or conversing within their jurisdiction ;
giving him occasion, with David, to com-
plain, “ They speak vanity, their heart
gathereth iniquity; yea, mine own familiar
friend, in whom I trusted, hath lifted up his
heel against me.”


JAMES REN WICK.
619




Notwithstanding all former obloquies
he sustained from all sorts of opposers, he
had one faithful and fervent wrestler on
his side, Mr Alexander Peden; and yet, a
little before his death, these reproachers so
far prevailed with him, as to instigate him
to a declared opposition against Renwick;
which not only contributed to grieve him
much, but was also an occasion of stum-
bling to many* others of the well-affected,
and to the confirmation of his opponents.
Nevertheless, he continued to traverse the
country, preaching, catechising, and bap-
tizing; travelling through Galloway, where
he had to encounter a most insolent pro-
testation given in against him, by the pro-
fessors between Dee and Cree, subscribed
by one Hutchison: a paper which he read
over at a public meeting in that bounds,
after a lecture from Psalm xv., and a ser-
mon from Song ii. 2., informing the people
what was done in their name, making
several animadversions thereon, as having
a tendency to overturn several pieces of our
valuable Reformation; exhorting them, if
there were any who concurred therein, that
they would speedily retract their hand from
such an iniquity.
Shortly after this, while his work was
increasing daily on his hand, and his diffi—
culties multiplying, his labours were dimin-
ished by the help of Mr David Houston
from Ireland, and Mr Alexander Shields,
which was very refreshing to him, as it
furnished him with an answer to those who
said, that he neither desired to join with
another minister, nor so much as to meet
with any other for joining. The first was
already confuted ; and, as for the other, it is
”' Mr Peden on his deathbed sent for him, and,

Y I I
after some conference, owned that he had been mls- *
informed anent him ; exhorting him to go forward,
and he would he carried honestly through ; asking Y
his forgiveness, and desiring him to pray with him
before he departed; all which Renwick did with
great cheerfulness.
I
well known how far he travelled both in
Scotland and England, to meet with minis-
ters for a coalescence, which they supercili~
ously refused- He once sent a friend for
that purpose to a minister of great note in
Glendale in Northumberland; but he
peremptorily refused. At a previous time,
in the same country, happening to be in a
much respected gentlewoman’s house, where
providentially Dr Rule came to visit, Ren-
wick, in another room, overheard him for-
bidding her by many arguments to entertain
or countenance him if he should come that
way. Upon this he sent for the Doctor, and
informed him that the same person was in
the house, and that he wished to converse
with him on that head ; but this he refused.
After this, one informed against him to
the ministers in Holland, who returned back
with Mr Brakel’s advice to Renwick and
others : but as it relished of a gospel. spirit,
not like that of his informers, it was no
way offensive to him. Mr Roelman, ano-
ther famous Dutch divine, and a great
sympathizer once with Renwick and that
afflicted party, by their information turned
also his enemy, which was more weighty to
him that such a great man should be so
credulous: but all these things never moved
him, being fully resolved to suffer this and
more for the cause of Christ.
In 1687, a proclamation was issued, Feb-
ruary 12, tolerating the moderate Presby~
terians to meet in their private houses to
hear the indulged ministers, while the field-
meetings should be prosecuted with the
utmost rigour of law. A second procla~
mation was given, June 28, allowing all
to serve God in their own way, in any
house. A third was emitted, October 5,
declaring that all preachers and hearers at
any meetings in the open fields should be
prosecuted with the utmost severity that
law would allow; and that all Dissenting
ministers who preach in houses should
teach nothing that should alienate the


SCOTS WORTHIES.
i T



hearts of the people from the government;
and that the privy-counsellors, sheriffs, &c.,
should be acquainted with the places set
apart for their preaching. This proclama-
tion, it seems, was granted as an answer to
an address for the toleration given in, in
name of all the Presbyterian ministers,
July 21, 1687.
Upon this, Renwick found it his duty
not only to declare against the granters,
but also against the accepters of this tole-
ration; warning also the people of the
hazard of their accession to it. At this
the indulged were so incensed, that no
sooner was their meeting well settled, than
they began to evince their malignity, by
calling him an intruder, a Jesuit, a white
devil going through the land carrying the
devil’s white flag; and asserting that he
had done more hurt to the Church of Scot-
land than its enemies had done these twenty
years. To render him odious, they also
circulated papers through the c<.>untry, as
given under his hand.
Yet, though he was not only the butt of
the wicked, but the scorn of professors also,
who were at their ease, he still continued
at his work. his inward man increasing
more and more, when his outward man
was much decayed; and his zeal for ful“
filling his ministry, and finishing his testi-
mony, increasing the more, the less peace 1
and accommodation he could find in the
world. At the same time he became so
weak, that he could not mount or sit on
horseback, and behoved to be carried to the
place of preaching.
In the mean time, the persecution
against him was so furious, that, in less
than five months after the toleration, fif-
teen most desperate searches were made
for him. To encourage which, a proclama-
tion was made, October 18, offering a re-
ward of £100 sterling to any one who
would bring in the persons of him and some
' others, either dead or alive

In the beginning of 1688, being now
approaching the limits of his course, he ran
very fast, and wrought very hard, both as
a Christian and as a minister. Having for
some time had a design to emit something
by way of testimony against both the gran~
ters and accepters of the toleration that
might afterwards stand on record, he went
towards Edinburgh; and on his way, at
Peebles, very narrowly escaped being appre-
hended. While at Edinburgh, he was un-
easy till he got that delivered, which, with
the concurrence of some others, he had
drawn up in form; and, upon inquiry, hear-
ing that there was to be no presbytery nor
synod of tolerated ministers for some time,
he went to Mr Hugh Kennedy, who he
heard was moderator, and delivered a pro-
testation into his hands; and then, for sev-
eral reasons, emitted it in public as his
testimony against the toleration.
From thence he Went to Fife, and preach-
ed several Sabbaths, and, upon the 29th of
January, delivered his last sermon at Bor-
rowstounness. Then he returned to Edin-
burgh, and lodged in a friend’s house in the
Castlehill, who dealt in uncustomed goods;
and, wanting his former circumspection—
his time being come—one John Justice, a
waiter, discovered the house that very night;
and, hearing him praying in the family, sus-
pected who it was, attacked the house next
morning, February 1, and, pretending to
search for smuggled goods, they got en-
trance; and when Renwick came to the
door, Mr Justice challenged him in these
Words, “ My life for it, this is Mr R-enwick ! ”
After which he went to the street, crying
for assistance to carry the dog Renwick to
the guard.
In the mean time, Renwick and other
two friends essayed to make their escape at
another door, but were repelled by the
waiters. On this he discharged a pistol
which made the assailants give way; but
I as he passed through them, one with a long






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JAMES RENWICK.
621


staff hit him on the breast, which doubtless
disabled him from running. Going down
the Castle-wynd, towards the head of the
Cowgate, having lost his hat, he was taken
notice of, and seized by a fellow on the
street, while the other two escaped.
He was taken to the guard, and there
kept some time—One Graham, captain of
the guard, seeing him of a little stature,
and comely youthful countenance, cried,
“ What! is this the boy Renwick that the
nation hath been so much troubled with?”
At the same time, one bailie Charters com-
ing in, with great insolence accused him of
licentious practices, which he replied to
with deserved disdain. Then he was car-
ried before a quorum of the council; and
when Graham delivered him off his hand,
he was heard to say, “ \low, I have given
Renwick up to the Presbyterians, let them
do with him what they please.” What
passed here could not be learned.
He was committed close prisoner, and
laid in irons; where, as soon as he was left
alone, he betook himself to prayer to his
God, making a free offer of his life to him,
requesting for through-bearing grace, and
that his enemies might be restrained from
torturing his body ; all which requests were
signally granted, and by him thankfully
acknowledged before his execution.
Before he received his indictment, he
was taken before the chancellor, into the
viscount of Tarbet’s lodging, and there
examined concerning his owning the autho-
rity of James VII, the cess, and carrying

arms at field-meetings, and delivered him- ;
self with such freedom and boldness as.
' must leave his poor flock; and declared,
astonished all present. The reason why
he was interrogated anent the cess was,
that a pocket-book was found about him,
in which were the notes of two sermons he
had preached on these points which he
owned. There were also some capitals in
the same book; and because the committee
was urgent to know these names, partly to
' avoid torture, and'knowing they could ren-
der the persons no more obnoxious, he in-
genuously declared the truth of the matter;
which ingenuity did much allay their rage
against him ; and being asked by the Chan-
cellor, \Vhat persuasion he was of? He
answered, Of the Protestant Presbyterian
persuasion. Again, How it came to pass
he differed so much from other Presby-
terians, who had accepted of the tolera-
tion, and owned the king's authority? and
what he thought of them? He answered,
He was a Presbyterian, and adhered to the
old Presbyterian principles, principles which
all were obliged by the covenant to main-
tain, and were once generally professed and
maintained by the nation from 1640 to
1660, from which they had apostatized for
a little liberty, they knew not how long, as
you yourselves have done for a little honour.
The chancellor replied, and the rest ap-
plauded, That they believed that these were
the Presbyterian principles, and that all
Presbyterians would own them as well as
he, if they had but the courage. However,
on February 3, he received his indictment
upon the three foresaid heads, viz., disown-
ing the king’s authority, the unlawfulness
of paying the cess, and the lawfulness of
defensive arms. All which he was to an-
swer on February 8. To the indictment
was added a list of forty-five, out of which
the jury was to be chosen, and a list of the
witnesses to be brought against him.
After receiving his indictment, his
mother got access to see him, to whom he
spoke many savoury words. And on Sab-
bath, February 5, he regretted that now he
“ That if it were his choice—he could not
‘ think of it without terror—to enter again
' into, and venture upon, that conflict with a
l
1
body of sin and death; yet, if he were again
to go and preach in the fields, he durst not
l vary in the least, nor flinch one hair~breadth
fivim the testimony, but would look on him-


622
SCOTS WORTHI ES.


self as obliged to use the same freedom and
faithfulness as he had done before.” And
in a letter, on February 6, he desired that
the persons whose names were deciphered .
might be acquainted with it ; and concludes,
“ I desire none may be troubled on my
behalf, but rather rejoice with him, who
with hope and joy is waiting for his coro-
nation hour.” Another time, his mother
asked him how he was; he answered, he
was well; but that since his last examina-
tion he could scarcely pray. At which she
looked on him with an affrighted counte-
nance, and he told her, he could hardly
pray, being so taken up with praising, and
ravished with the joy of the Lord. When
his mother was expressing her fear of faint-
ing, saying, “ How shall I look upon that
head and those hands set up among the
rest on the port of the city? ” He smiled,
telling her, she should not see that; for,
said he, I have offered my life unto the
Lord, and have sought that he may bind
them up; and I am persuaded that they
shall not be permitted to torture my body,
nor touch one hair of my head farther.
He was at first much afraid of the ter-
tures; but now, having obtained a persua-
sion that these were not to be his trials,
through grace he was helped to say, “ That
the terror of them was so removed, that he
would rather choose to be cast into a cal-
dron of boiling oil, than do anything that
might wrong truth.” When some other
friends were permitted to see him, he ex—
horted them to make sure their peace with
God, and to study steadfastness in His ways;
and when they regretted their loss of him,
he said, “ They had more need to thank
the Lord, that he should now be taken
away from these reproaches? which had
For, besides these reproaches already noticed,
with many others, he and his followers were charged
as men of anarchical, murdering, and bloody princi-
ples, which makes it the less wonder that their suc-
cessors should be charged with the same.


broken his heart, and which could not
otherwise be wiped off, even though he
should get his life, without yielding in the
least.”
Monday, February 8, he appeared before
the justiciary, and when his indictment was
read, the justice-clerk asked him, If he ad~
hered to his former confession, and acknow-
ledged all that was in the libel He an-
swered, “ All except where it is said Ihave
cast off all fear of God: that Ideny; for it
is because I fear to offend God, and violate
his law, that I am here standing ready to be
condemned.” Then he was interrogated,
If he owned authority, and James VII. to
be his lawful sovereign? He answered, “I
own all authority that hath its prescrip-
tions and limitations from the word of God;
but cannot own this usurper as lawful king,
seeing, both by the word of God such an
one is incapable to bear rule, and likewise
by the ancient laws of the kingdom, which
admit none to the crown of Scotland, until
he swear to defend the Protestant religion;
which a man of his profession could not
do.” They urged, Could he deny him to
be king? Was he not the late king’s
brother? Had the late king any children
lawfully begotten? Was he not declared
to be his successor by act of parliament?
He answered, “ He was no doubt king de
facto, but not de jure ; that he was brother
to the other king, he knew nothing to the
contrary; what children the other had he
knew not: but from the word of God, that
ought to be the rule of all laws, or from
the ancient laws of the kingdom, it could
not be shown that he had, or ever could
have any right.” The next question was,
If he owned, and had taught it to be unlaw-
ful to pay cesses and taxations to his ma-
jesty? He answered, “ For the present
cess, enacted for the present usurper, I
hold it unlawful to pay it, both in regard
it is oppressive to the subject, for the main-
tenance of tyranny, and because it is im-


JAMES RENWICK. 623



posed for suppressing the gospel. Would
it have been thought lawful for the Jews,
in the days of Nebuchadnezzar, to have
brought every one a coal to augment the
flame of the furnace to devour the three
children, if so they had been required by
that tyrant ?”
Next they moved the question, If he
owned he had taught his hearers to come
armed to their meetings, and, in case of
opposition, to resist? He answered, “ It
were inconsistent with reason and religion
both to do otherwise: you yourselves would
do it in the like circumstances. I own
that I taught them to carry arms to defend
themselves, and resist your unjust violence.”
Further, they asked, If he owned the note-
book, and the two sermons written therein,
and that he had preached them? He said,
"‘ If ye have added nothing, I will own it;
and am ready to seal all the truths contained
therein with my blood.”--All his confession
being read over, he was required to subscribe
it. He said, “ He would not do it, since he
looked on it as a partial owning of their
authority.” After refusing several times,
he said, “ With protestation, I will sub-
scribe the paper as it is my testimony, but
not in obedience to you.”
Then the assizers were called in by fivesfl‘‘

and sworn; against whom he objected
nothing ; but protested, “ That none might
sit on his assize that professed Protestant
or Presbyterian principles, or an adherence
to the covenanted work of Reformation.”
He was brought in guilty; and sentence
passed, That he should be executed in the
Grassmarket, on the Friday following.
Lord Linlithgow, justice-general, asked, If
he desired longer time? He answered,
“ It was all one to him ; if it was protracted,
it was welcome; if it was shortened, it was
welcome; his Master’s time was the best.”
Then he was returned to prison. With-
out his knowledge, and against his will,
yea, after open refusing to the advocate to
desire it, he was reprieved to the 17th day;
which gave occasion to severals to renew
their reproaches.
Though none who suffered in the former
part of this dismal period spoke with more
fortitude, freedom, and boldness, than Ren-
wick, yet none were treated with so much
moderation. The lenity of the justiciary
was much admired beyond their ordinary;
for they admitted him to say what he
pleased, without threatening and interrup-
tion, even though he gave none of them the
title of lord, except Linlithgow, who was a
nobleman by birth. And though his friends
—which was not usual after sentence—-
were denied access, yet both Papists and
Episcopalians were permitted to see him.
Bishop Paterson often visited him; nay,
. he sought another reprieve for him, which
would easily have been granted, had he
only petitioned for it. The bishop asked
him, Think you none can be saved but
those of your principles? He answered,
“ I never said nor thought, that none could
be saved except they were of these princi-
ples; but these are truths which I suffer


'* And it is to be remarked, that many of the
jury were professors, and eminent in the tolerated
meetings; while others, even of the malignants,
chose rather to run the hazard of the penalty ; as
the laird of Torrence, who compeared not, and Som-
merville, chamberlain of Douglas, who,though when
he appeared, yet when he saw Renwick turn about
and direct his speech to them, he ran away, saying,
“ He trembled to think to take away the life of such
a pious-like man, though they should take his whole
estate.” The list of the assizers is as follows:—
James Hume of Kimmergem; John Hume of Nine-
wells ; John Martin, clerk to the manufactory;
Alexander Martin, some time clerk of — ; Robert
Halybnrton, merchant; Thomas Lawrie, merchant ; ,
Archibald Johnston, merchant; Thomas Wylie, i
merchant; James Hamilton, vintner;
Cockburn, merchant; James Hamilton, jun., sta-
William ‘
tioner ; Robert Currie, stationer; Joseph Young,
merchant; John Cunningham, merchant in Glas-
gow ; Ninian Bannantine of Kaims, Chancellor


624
SCOTS WORTHIES.

for, and which I have not rashly concluded ‘
on, but deliberately, and of a long time
have been confirmed, that they are suffi-
cient points to suffer for.” The bishop
took his leave, declaring his sorrow for his
being so tenacious, and said, “ It had been
a great loss he had been of such principles,
for he was a pretty lad.” Again, the night
before he suffered, he sent to him, to signify
his readiness to serve him to the utmost of
his power. Renwick thanked him for his
courtesy, but knew nothing he could do, or
that he could desire.
Mr M‘Naught, one of the curates, made
him a visit‘ in his canonical habit, which
Renwick did not like. The curate, among
other things, asked his opinion concerning
the toleration, and those that accepted it.
Renwick declared, that he was against the
toleration ; but as for them that embraced
it, he judged them to be godly men. The
curate leaving him, commended him for
one of great gravity and ingenuity. Dal~
rymple, the king’s advocate, came also to
visit him, and declared that he was sorry
for his death, and that it should fall out in
his short time. Several popish priests and
gentlemen of the guard, with some of the
tolerated ministers, were permitted to con-
verse with him. The priest, at leaving
him, was overheard saying, he was a most
obstinate heretic; for he had used such
freedom with him that it became a proverb
in the tolbooth at the time, “ Begone, as
Mr Renwick said to the priests.”
Several petitions were written from sev-
eral hands, of the most favourable strain
that could be invented, and sent him to
subscribe, but all in vain; yea, it was of-
fered to him, if he would but let a drop of
ink fall on a bit of paper, it would satisfy:
but he would not.
was kept so close that he could get nothing
wrote. His begun testimony which he
was writing was taken from him, and pen
and ink removed.
In the mean time, he ‘


On Tuesday the 14th, he was brought
before the council on account of the infor-
matory vindication; but what passed there
cannot be learned, farther than their signi-
fying how much kindness they had shown
him, in that they had reprieved him with-
out his application, a thing never done
before. He answered with extraordinary
cheerfulness, rejoicing, that he was counted
worthy to suffer shame for the name of his
Master. A friend asking him, How he
was? He said, Very well; and he would
be better within three days. He told his
mother, That the last execution he was wit-
ness to, was Robert Gray’s: and that he
had a strong impression on his mind that
he should be the next: and often said, He
saw need for his suffering at this time ; and
that he was persuaded his death would do
more good than his life for many years
could have done. Being asked, What he
thought God would do with the remnant
behind him? He answered, It would be
well with them; for God would not forsake
nor cast off his inheritance.
On the day of his execution, the chief
jailor begged that, at the place of execu-
tion, he would not mention the causes of
his death, and would forbear all reflections.
Renwick told him, That what God would
give him to speak, that would he speak,
and nothing less. The jailor told him that
he might still have his life, if he would but
sign that petition which he offered him.
He answered, That he never read in scrip-
ture, or in history, where martyrs petitioned
for their lives, when called to suffer for
truth, though they might require them not
to take their life, and remonstrate the
wickedness of murdering them ; but in the
present circumstance he judged it would be
I found a receding from truth, and a declining
from a testimony for Christ.
His mother and sisters having obtained
i leave to see him, after some refreshment, in
i returning thanks, he said, “ O Lord, thou




JAMES RENWICK.
625




hast brought me within two hours of eter-
nity, and this is no matter of terror to me,
more than if I were to lie down in a bed
of roses ; nay, through grace, to thy praise,
I may say I never had the fear of death
since Icame to this prison; but from the
place where I was taken, I could have gone
very composedly to the scaffold. O! how
can I contain this, to be within two hours
of the crown of glory 1"’ He exhorted
them much to prepare for death; “ For it
is,” said he, “ the king of terrors, though
not to me now, as it was sometimes in my
hidings ; but now let us be glad and rejoice,
for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and
his wife hath made herself ready. Would
ever I have thought that the fear of suf-
fering and of death could be so taken from
me? But what shall I say to it? It
is the doing of the Lord, and marvellous in
our eyes. I have many times counted the
cost of following Christ, but never thought
it would be so easy; and now who knows
the honour and happiness of that, ‘ He
that confesscth me before men, him will
I confess before the Father ?’” He said
many times, “ Now I am near the end of
time; I desire to bless the Lord, it is an
inexpressibly sweet and satisfying peace to
me, that he hath kept me from complying
with enemies in the least.” Perceiving his
mother weep, he exhorted her to remem-
her, that they who loved anything better
than Christ, were not worthy of him. “ If
ye love me, rejoice that I am going to my
Father, to obtain the enjoyment of what eye
hath not seen,” &c. Then he went to prayer,
wherein he ran out much in praise, and
pleaded much in behalf of the suffering
remnant; that the Lord would raise up
witnesses that might transmit the testi-
mony to succeeding generations, and that
the Lord would not leave Scotland; as-
serting, with great confidence of hope, that
he was strengthened in the hope of it, that
the Lord would be gracious to Scotland.

_ we shall pray for you."
At length, hearing the drums beat for
the guard, he fell into a transport, saying,
“' Yonder the welcome warning to my mar-
riage; the bridegroom is coming; I am
ready, I am ready.” Then taking his leave
of his mother and sisters, he entrcated them
not to be discouraged; for, ere all were
done, they should see matter of praise in
that day’s work. He was taken to the low
council-house, as was usual, where, after
his sentence was read, they desired him to
speak what he had to say there. He said,
“ I have nothing to say to you, but that
which is written in J er. xxvi. 14, 15. ‘ As
for me, behold, I am in your hand,‘ &c.
He was told that the drums would beat at
the scaffold all the time, and, therefore,
they desired him to pray there; but he re-
fused, and declared he would not be limited
in what he would say, and that he had
premeditated nothing, but would speak
what was given him. They offered him
any minister to be with him; but he an-
swered, “ If I would have had any of them
for my counsellors or comforters, I should
not have been here this day. I require
none with me but this one mam—meaning
the friend that was waiting upon him.
He went from thence to the scaffold
with great cheerfulness, as one in a trans—
port of triumphant joy, and had the greatest
crowd of spectators that has perhaps been
seen at any execution; but little was heard,
on account of the beating of the drums all
the time without intermission, from his first
ascending the scaffold until he was cast
over. Yet, from the friends and others
permitted to attend him, there were some
of his last words collected.
When he went first unto the scaffold,
some forbade him to speak anything; be-
cause the people could not hear; which he
took no notice of. There was a curate
standing at the side of the scaffold, who
tempting him, said, “ Own our king, and
He answered. “ l




4 K
626
SCOTS WORTHIES.


‘F
will have none of your prayers ; I am come
to bear my testimony against you, and such
The curate said, “ Own our
king, and pray for him, whatever you say
against us.” He replied, “ I will discourse
no more with you; I am within a little to
appear before him who is King of kings,
and Lord of lords, who shall pour shame,
contempt, and confusion, upon all the kings
of the earth who have not ruled for him.”
Then he sang Psalm ciii., read Rev. xix.;
then prayed, commending his soul to God
through the Redeemer, and his cause to be
vindicated in his own time; and appealed
to the Lord if this was not the most joyful
day he ever saw in the world, a day that
he had much longed for. He insisted
much in blessing the Lord in honouring
him with the crown of martyrdom, an
honour which the angels were not privi-
leged with, being incapable of laying down
their lives for their princely Master. He
complained of being disturbed in worship--
ping God: but, said he, “ I shall be above
these clouds; then shall I enjoy thee, and
glorify thee, without interruption, or inter--
as you are.”
mission, for ever.”
Here they made him desist, and go up
the ladder, where he prayed, and said,
“ Lord, I die in the faith that thou wilt
not leave Scotland, but that thou wilt
make the blood of thy witnesses the seed
of thy church, and return again and be
glorious in our land. And now, Lord, I
am ready; the bride, the Lamb’s wife, hath
made herself ready.” The napkin being
tied about his face, he said to his friend
attending, “ Farewell; be diligent in duty,
make your peace with God through Christ.
There is a great trial coming. As to the
remnant I leave, I have committed them

to God. Tell them from me not to weary
nor be discouraged in maintaining the testi-
mony, and the Lord will provide you teachers
and ministers; and when he comes, he will
make these despised truths glorious in the



earth.” He was turned over, with these
words in his mouth, “ Lord, into thy hands
I commend my spirit, for thou hast re- '
deemed me, Lord God of truth.”
Thus died the faithful, pious, and zealous
Renwick, on the third day over the 26th
year of his age, a young man, and a young
minister, but a ripe Christian, and renown ed
martyr of Christ, for whose sake he loved
not his life unto the death, by whose blood,
and the word of his testimony, he over-
came, and thus got above all snares and
sorrow, and, to the conviction of many that
formerly reproached him, was as signally
vindicated of, as he was in his life shame-
fully reproached with, all the aspersions,
obloquies, and calumnies, that were cast
upon him for prosecuting that testimony
for truth, which vnow he sealed with his
blood, in such a treasure of patience, meek»
ness, humility, constancy, courage, burning
love, and blazing zeal, as did very much
confound enemies, convince neutrals, con-
firm halters, comfort friends, and astonish
all.
He was of stature somewhat low, of a
fair complexion, and, like another young
David, of a ruddy and beautiful counte-
nance. Most men spoke well of him after
he was dead; even his murderers, as well
as others, said, they thought he went to
heaven. Malignants generally said, he died
a Presbyterian. The Viscount of T arbet,
one of the counsellors, one day in company,
when speaking of him, said, “ That he was
one of the stiffest maintainers of his princi~
ples that ever came before them. Others
we used always to cause one time or other
to waver, but him we could never move.
Where we left him, there we found him
We could never make him yield or vary in
the least. He was the man we have seen
most plainly and pertinaciously adhering to
the old way of Presbyterian government,
who, if he had lived in Knox’s days would
not have died by any laws then in being.

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JAMES RENWICK.
627


He was the last that on a scaffold sealed his
testimony for religion, liberty, and the cove-
nanted work of Reformation in Scotland.
TESTIMONY
or
'JAMES RENWICK,
THE DAY BEFORE HIS SUFFERING.
“ MY dear friends in Christ, it hath pleased
the Lord to deliver me into the hands of
men; and I think fit to send you this salu-
tation, which I expect will be the last.
When I open my heart upon it, before God,
I dare not desire to have escaped this lot;
for no less could have been for his glory
and the vindication of his cause on my be—
half: and as I am free before him of the
profanity, which some, either naughty,
wicked, or strangers to me, have reported,
that I have been sometimes guilty of; so
he hath kept me fi'om the womb, fi~ee of
the ordinary pollutions of children, as these
that have been acquainted with me through
the tract of my life, do know. And now
my blood shall either more silence re-
preaches, or more ripen them for judgment:
but I hope it shall make some more spar-
ing to speak of those who shall come after
me; and so I am the more willing to pay
this cost for their instruction, and my sue--
ceeders’ ease. Since I came to prison, the
Lord has been wonderfully kind to me ; he
hath made his word to give me light, life,
joy, courage, and strength; yea, it hath
dropped with sweet swelling myrrh unto
me, particularly these passages and pro-
mises, Gen. xxii. 12, latter part of the verse,
‘ For now I know that thou fearest God,
seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine
only son.’ N eh. viii. 10., latter part of the
verse, ‘ Neither be you sorry, for the joy of
the Lord is your strength.’ Job iii. 17.

‘ There the Wicked cease fi'om troubling,
and there the weary be at rest.’ Ver. 18.
‘There the prisoners rest together, they
hear not the voice of the oppressor.’ Job
xxiii. 10. ‘ But he knoweth the way that I
take: when he hath tried me, I shall come
forth as gold.’ Ver. 11. ‘ My foot hath
held his steps, his way have I kept, and not
declined.’ Ver. 12. ‘ Neither have I gone
back from the commandment of his lips, I
have esteemed the words of his month,
more than my necessary food.’ V er. 13.
‘ But he is in one mind, and who can turn
him ? and what his soul desireth, even that
he doth.’ Ver. 14. ‘ For he performeth
the thing that is appointed for me: and
many such things are with him.’ Psalm
cv. 19. ‘ The word of the Lord tried him.’
Luke xxi. 12. ‘ But before all these they
shall lay their hands on you, and persecute
you, delivering you up to the synagogues,
and into prisons, being brought before kings
for my name’s sake.’ Ver. 13. ‘ And it
shall turn to you for a testimony.’ Ver.
19. ‘ In your patience possess ye your souls.’
Heb. xii. 23. ‘ To the general assembly and
church of the first~born, which are written
in heaven, and to God the judge of all, and
to the spirits of just men made perfect.’
James i. 12. ‘ Blessed is the man that en-
dureth temptation: for when he is tried, he
shall receive the crown of life, which the
Lord hath promised to them that love him.’
1 Pet. v. 7. ‘Casting all your care upon
him, for he careth for you.’ Ver. 8. ‘Be
sober, be vigilant; because your adversary
the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about
seeking whom he may devour.’ Rev. iii.
8. ‘ I know thy works: behold I have set
before thee an open door, and no man can
shut it; for thou hast a little strength, and
hast kept my word, and hast not denied my
name-’ Ver. 1(). ‘ Because thou hast kept
the word of my patience, I also will keep
thee from the hour of temptation, which
shall come upon all the world, to try them


628
SCOTS WORTHIES.












that dwell upon the earth.’ Ver. 11. ‘ Be-
hold I come quickly: hold that fast which
thou hast, that no man take thy crown.’
Ver. 12. ‘Him that overcometh will I
make a pillar in the temple of my God, and
he shall go no more out: and I will write
upon him the name of my God, and the
name of the city of my God, which is
new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of
heaven from my God; and I will write
upon him my new name.’ Rev. xix. 20.
‘ And the beast was taken, and with him
the false prophet that wrought miracles
before him, with which he deceived them
that received the mark of the beast, and
them that worshipped his image. These
both were cast alive into a lake of fire
burning with brimstone.’ Ver. 21. ‘ And
the remnant were slain with the sword of
him that sat upon the horse, which sword
proceedeth out of his mouth: and all the
fowls were filled with their flesh.’ And
many other scriptures.
“ O what can I say to the Lord’s praise!
It was but little that I knew of him before
I came to prison; I have found sensibly
much of his divine strength, much of the
joy of his Spirit, and much assurance
from his word and Spirit concerning my
salvation; my sufferings are stated upon
the matters of my doctrine, for there was
found with me the sum of my last two ser-
mons at Braid’s-craigs, which I wrote after
I preached them ; the former whereof was
upon Psalm lxvi. 10. ‘ Be still and know
that I am God; I will be exalted among
the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.’
And the latter upon Heb. x. 28. ‘ Now the
just shall live by faith: but if any man
draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure
in him.’ And so I was examined upon the
application made therein unto the sins of
the time: all which I owned once and
again, as it is to be seen in my indictment:
and I being tried, and an assize set, I ad-
hered to my former confession explicitly;

so my sentence of death was drawn forth
upon these heads:
“ First, Because I could not own James
VII. to be my lawful sovereign.
“ Secondly, Because I taught the unlaw-
fulness of paying the cess, expressly exacted
for the suppressing the faithful and free
preaching of the gospel.
“ Thirdly, Because I taught that it was
the people’s duty to carry arms at the
preaching of the gospel, now when it is
persecuted, for defending themselves, and
resisting of unjust violence.
“ I think such a testimony is worth many
lives, and I praise the Lord for his en-
abling me to be plain and positive in all
my confessions: for therein I found peace,
joy, strength, and boldness. I have met
with many assaults in prison, some from the
indulged party, and others from some of the
prelatic ; but, by the strength of God, I was
enabled to stand, that they could neither
bow me, nor break me. I was also assaulted
by some of the popish party—I suppose
they were some of the ecclesiastical crea-
tures—but they found none of their stuff in
me. I told them, after sundry debatings,
that I had lived, and should die an enemy
to their way. However, some that knew
me not, reproached me with Jesuitism. I
was pressed by sundry to seek a reprieve,
and my answer was always, that I adhered
to my former confession, and if they pleased
to let that appointed time of my death
stand, let it stand; and if they pleased to
protract it, let them protract it; for I was
ready and willing both to live and die;
howbeit there came a reprieve for eight
days, but I had no hand in it. They still
urged, would I but say that I desired time
for conference with some persons anent my
principles: I answered that my time was
in the Lord’s hand, and Iwas in no hesi-
tation or doubt about my principles my-
self; I would not be so rude as to decline
conference with any, so far as it might not


JAMES RENWICK.
629


be inconvenient for me in my present cir-
cumstances, but I will seek it with none.
I have no more to say on this head, but my
heart doth not smite me for anything in
the matters of my God, since I came to
prison. And I can further say to his
praise, with consciousness of integrity, that
I have walked in his way, and kept his
charge, though with much weakness and
many infirmities, whereof ye have been
witnesses.
“ N ow, my dear friends in precious Christ,
I think I need not tell you, that as I have
lived, so I die in the same persuasion with
the true reformed and covenanted Presby-
terian Church of Scotland; that I adhere
to the testimony of the day, as it is held
forth in our Informatory Vindication, and
in the Testimony against the present tole-
ration; and that I own, and seal with my
blood, all the precious truths, even the con-
troverted truths, that I have taught. So I
would exhort every one of you to make
sure your personal reconciliation with God
in Christ: for I fear many of you have that
yet to do; and when ye come where I am,
to look pale death in the face, ye will not
be a little shaken and terrified, if ye have
not laid hold on eternal life. I would ex-
hort you to much diligence in the use of
means, to be careful in keeping up your
societies, to be frequent and fervent in se-
cret prayer, to read much the written word
of God, and to examine yourselves by it.
Do not weary to maintain, in your places
and stations, the present testimony; for
when Christ goes forth to defeat antichrist,

them. Do not fear that the Lord will cast off
Scotland ; for he will certainly return again,
and show himself glorious in our land. But
watch and pray, for he is bringing on a sad
overthrowingstroke, which shall make many
say, That they have got easily through that
have got a scaffold for Christ; and do not
regard the present sufferings of this world,
for ‘they are not worthy to be compared
to the glory that shall be revealed.’
“I may say to his praise, that I have
found his cross sweet and lovely unto me,
for I have had many joyful hours, and not
a fearful thought since I came to prison;
he has strengthened me to brave man and
face death, and I am now longing for the
joyful hour of my dissolution; and there is
nothing in the world that I am sorry to
leave but you: but I go to better company,
and so I must take my leave of you all.
Farewell beloved sufferers, and followers
of the Lamb; farewell Christian intimates;
farewell Christian and comfortable mother
and sisters ; farewell sweet societies ; fare—
well desirable general meetings; farewell
night-wanderings in cold and weariness for
Christ; farewell sweet Bible and preach-
ing of the gospel; farewell sun, moon, and
stars, and all sublunary things; farewell
conflicts with a body of sin and death.
W'elcome scaffold for precious Christ; wel-
come heavenly Jerusalem ; welcome innu-
merable company of angels ; welcome gen-
eral assembly and church of the first-born;
welcome crown of glory, white robes, and
‘ songs of Moses and the Lamb; and, above
. . . . l
with that name written on his thigh and on
his vesture, KING or KINGS AND Loan or
LORDS, he will make it glorious in the
earth: and if ye can but transmit it to
posterity, ye may count it great genera-
tion-work.
But beware of the ministers;
that have accepted of this toleration, and
all others that bend that way ; and follow
all, \Velcome, O thou blessed Trinity and
one God! 0 eternal One! I commit my
soul into thy eternal rest.
Sic sub.— J AMES Rnxwicx.”
LETTER TO HIS CHRISTIAN FRIENDS.
“MY dear friends in Christ, I see now
them not for the sun hath gone down upon a what hath been the language of mvreprieve:


630
SCOTS WORTHIES.





it hath been that I might be further tempted
and tried; and I praise the Lord he hath
assisted me to give further proofs of stead--
fastness; I have been often assaulted by
some popish priests; but the last. time they
came, I told them I would debate no more
with such as they were, and that I had
lived and would die a Protestant, and testify
against the idolatries, heresies, supersti-
tions, and errors of that antichristian way.
But yesterday I was cast into a deep exer-
cise, and made to dwell under an impres-
sion of the dreadfulness of everything that
might grieve the Spirit of God. I found
sin to be more bitter than death, and one
hour’s hiding of God’s face more insupport-
able. And then, at night, I was called be-
fore part of the council, when the chancellor
produced the Informatory Vindication, and
asked if I knew it: I answered, I know it.
And, being interrogated, I confessed that I
had a great hand in writing of it: they
pressed me to tell my assistants: I told
them they were those whom they perse-
cuted; but would satisfy them no further.
They also urged me, upon pain of torture,
to tell where our societies were; who kept
our general correspondences; and where
they were kept? I answered, though they
should torture me, which was contrary to
all law, after sentence of death, Iwould
give them no further notice than the books
gave. I was, moreover, threatened to tell
my haunts and quarters, but I refused to
make known to them any such thing: so I
was returned to prison. Such exercises as
I had were very needful to me for such a
trial ; and I would rather endure what they
could do unto me, than have dishonoured
Christ, offended you, and brought you unto
trouble—But I hope, within less than
three days, to be without the reach of all
temptations. Now I have no more to
say :--Farewell again in our blessed Lord
Jesus.”


LAST WORDS UPON THE SCAFFOLD.
“ SPEOTATORS, or (if there be any of you)
auditors, I must tell you I am come here this
day to lay down my life for adhering to the
truths of Christ, for which I am neither
afraid nor ashamed to suffer; nay, I bless
the Lord that ever he counted me worthy,
or enabled me to suffer anything for him ;
and I desire to praise his grace, that he
hath not only kept me free from the gross
pollutions of the time, but also from many
ordinary pollutions of children; and such
as I have been stained with he hath washed
me from them in his own blood. I am this
day to lay down my life for these three
things. 1. For disowning the usurpations
and tyranny of James duke of York. 2.
For preaching that it was unlawful to pay
the cess, expressly exacted for bearing down
the gospel. 3. For preaching that it was
lawful for people to carry arms for defend‘
ing themselves in their meetings for the
persecuted gospel- ordinances. I think the
testimony for these is worth many lives,
and if I had ten hundred I would think it
little enough to lay them all down for the
same.
“ Dear friends, spectators, and (if any of
you be) auditors, I must tell you that I die
a Presbyterian Protestant. I own the
Word of God as the rule of faith and man-
ners. I own the Confession of Faith,
Larger and Shorter Catechisms, Sum of
Saving Knowledge, Directory for Worship,
&c., Covenants, National and Solemn
League, acts of General Assemblies, and all
the faithful contendings that have been for
the work of Reformation. I leave my tes~
timony approving the preaching of the gos-
pel in the fields, and the defending of the
same by arms. I adjoin my testimony to
all that hath been sealed by blood, shed
either on scaffolds, fields, or seas, for the
cause of Christ. I leave my testimony







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'HRI‘W Ills‘! m’ s'IIHT .ur Clu'fl'i'ltl'w‘ -
I
'\
JAMES RENWICK. 631



against popery, prelacy, Erastianism, &c.; “his own kingdom, the church: and, in par-
against all profanity, and everything con- ticular, against the absolute power usurped
trary to sound doctrine; particularly against by this usurper, that belongs to no mortal,
all usurpations made on Christ’s right, who but is the incommunicable prerogative of
is the PRINCE or THE KINGS or THE EARTH, J EHOVAH ; and against this toleration flow-
who alone must bear the glory of ruling l ing from this absolute power.”

SUPPLEMENT.
‘r ' 4 ' I e u I ~
THE period at which we have now arrived, as is generally known, witnessed the termination of capital
convictions for nonconforinity in religious professions,—Rcnwick having been the last in Scotland, who
sealed with his blood, the testimony for civil and religious liberty. For twenty eight years previous, the
flames of persecution had been ragingwith relentless fury; but the death of this holy and intrepid
servant of God, seems to have covered the abettors of Episcopacy with shame for this their last act of
condemnation. Many concomitant circumstances seem to have concurred to effect this; but we believe
nothing contributed more successfully to that end, than the purity and integrity of Renwick’s own life;
his meek and noiseless submission to the sentence of his tyrannical judges; and the asseveration that his
death would do more service to the cause of religion in Scotland, than his life, even if that should have
been prolonged to the ordinary limits of humanity.
It has been calculated that, during these twenty-eight years, upwards of 18,000 persons suffered
death, or the utmost hardships and extremities of persecution; of which number, 1700 were banished to
the foreign plantations,—-150 to the northern islands of Scotland; and 800 were executed. Those who
suffered by imprisonment, and similar cruelties, were supposed to be about 2750; and the number of
those who either fell in battle, or died of their wounds, is reckoned at 680 ;-7000 are said to have gone
into voluntary exile; and 498 were murdered in cold blood; besides 302 who were executed according
to form of law. But of those who perished through cold, hunger, and fatigue, among the mountains; or
who were murdered by the unrestrained soldiers, it is impossible to speak with precision. It has been
pretty accurately ascertained, however, that the aggregate number will not fall short of that mentioned
above. -
\Ve do not pretend in these Memoirs to have given anything like a complete account of all who testi-
fied and suffered for the cause of truth in these lands, prior to the Revolution in 1688; for, in hundreds
of cases, this would have been impossible; the occupation of life in some, and the place in society of
others, entirely precluding every facility of procuring even the outline of a regular biography. We
have merely selected the Lives of the most distinguished and illustrious of those who either died, or
suffered death or banishment fi'om the commencement of the Reformation in the beginning of the 16th
century, to the Revolution, in 1688,-——a period that will ennoble the Presbyterian interest in Scotland, so
long as the page of history endures.
After the death of Renwick, it 1s not to be understood, however, that the sword of persecution ceased
to destroy. The emissaries of the intolerant rulers, who then bore sway, were still as merciless as before.
Soldiers were dispersed over the country, with a commission to investigate, discover, and punish alleged
offenders; and even to try, condemn, and put to death upon the spot. In compliance with these orders,
and often by a stretch of authority, they entered the peaceful habitations of the religious peasantry, dis-
turbed their quiet, wasted their substance, and goadcd them on to resistance: after which they de-
nounced them as rebels, and then subjected them to prescription, imprisonment, exile, or death. In
all these ways, and indeed, by every act that malice could invent, or cruelty detdse, were the Presby-
terians of Scotland afflicted and persecuted, during what has been most appropriately styled the sufiie'rz'ng
period of their history. In the execution of their orders the soldiers were permitted to take free quarters
wherever they pleased; to examine men by torture; and to compel women and children by threatening,
swinging, burning with fire-matches and the like. to betray their husbands and parents,——and. when



632 SCOTS IVORTHIES.






found, they were sometimes shot without even the form of a mock-trial. But the tyrannous orders of
the government were by no means confined to the humble peasantry. Families of rank and respecta-
bility were subjected to the loss of all things; solely because they would not go to hear the curates.
Heavy fines were exacted; confiscation of property; everything that could be moved was either carried
off or destroyed; and when vengeance had done its utmost in this way, the hapless inmates were turned
out to the mercy of the elements, and their patrimonial inheritance burned before their eyes. Upon one
family in the stewartry of Kirkcudbright’f the soldiers made good their quarters for fifteen weeks, till they
had wasted and consumed the whole provision of the family; after which they destroyed the furniture and
disfigured the house. Perhaps no family in Scotland suffered more than this one. Two of the sons were
taken and executed after the battle of Pentland. One whole year’s crop of the estate was seized upon, and
disposed of or destroyed. All their horses, cattle, and sheep were carried off; and, when the persecutors
had no more they could do there, they fell upon the tenants, and robbed and ruined them. Two of
them they compelled to relinquish their farms, having threatened to burn the houses over their heads.
It almost surpasses belief even to think of the cruelties and oppressions which our forefathers had to
endure, for the sake of the Church of their Fathers,——what then must it have been to have borne them!
To give a full detail of these is not our intention, neither is it within our power. In the following
Supplement we have selected those whose sufferings are best authenticated, and of whom most is known.
”' Gordon of Knockbreck.
toleration, and the errors and sectaries that then
ALEX_A\T DER MONCRIEFF. prevailed in church and state, given in October
1658, to General Monk, drawn up and signed by
IN virtue of an act of the General Assembly, 1642, himself, Messrs Rutherford, James Guthrie, and
appointing a list of six able men for the planting of many others. This he did with the greatest firm-
vacant churches, Moncrieffwas pitched upon for the ness, for which he was exposed to new extremities;
church of Scoonie in Fife; and upon September 26, but what return he had for all his faithfulness and
1643, was received there with great satisfaction. loyalty to the king comes immediately to be dis-
After this he had an active hand in carrying on covered.
the work of Reformation, and was nominated in the No sooner was the king restored and settled in
commission for the affairs of the Kirk. In the years his dominions, than this worthy and good man was
1650 and 1651, he made a considerable figure involved in a new series of sufferings; for, being
among those called Protesters, and had a particular assembled at Edinburgh, with Mr James Guthrie,
hand in the “Western Remonstrance,” and the and eight others of his brethren, in August, 1660,
“Causes of God’s \Vrath,” which were drawn up where they drew up that humble supplication and
about that time. address to the King, commonly called, “ The paper
During Cromwell’s usurpation, he suffered much of the 23d of August,” they were all imprisoned in
on account of his loyalty in praying for the king; the castle of Edinburgh, except Mr Hay of Craig—
upon account of which his house was often searched, nethan, who escaped.
and rifled by the English, and he himself obliged He continued under confinement until July 12,
to seek concealment. Upon the Sabbath, he had 1661, when, much about the same time with Mr
spies set upon him, and was closely watched where James Guthrie, he had his indictment and charge
he went after preaching. He was frequently pur- chiefly for having had a principal share in the “ Re-
sued, and one time a party of horse came after him; monstrance,” and in forming the “ Causes of God’s
yet by a special providence got clear of them. A Wrath.” Refusing to retract anything in them, he
little after he was seized by them in the neighbour- was brought before the parliament several times;
ing congregation, and imprisoned for some time.* and their prosecution for his life was so hot, that
After he was liberated, he was pitched upon as the earl of Athol, and others in parliament, parti-
a person of great courage and magnanimity, to cularly interested and concerned in this good man
present the protestation and testimony’[ against the and his wife, being importuned by her to appear
* Wodrow»s History’ VOL L P_ 71, 8,0. for him in parliament, dealt with her to endeavour
+ In this testimony, among other things, they say, “ IVe to prevail with him 130 recede from $0m9 ofhis Prin-
zlo profess our dissatisfaction that the civil powers should ciples; otherwise they told her, it was impossible t0
take upon them to prescribe public humiliation and thanks- Save his fifi~_ This excellent woman answered’
giving, with the causes and diets thereof, to all the ministers
and members of the church, as being contrary to the well-
warranted privileges and constant practice of the church it- ‘
self, and in its own nature introductory to greater encroach- .
ments, and putting into the hands of the civil powers, the
modelling of the public worship of God, a thing most pro-
perly ecclesiastic,” 81.0.



ALEXANDER MO NCRIEFF.
633




“That they all knew she was happy in a good
husband, and she had a great affection for him,
and many children; yet she knew him to be so
steadfast to his principles, where his conscience was
concerned, that nobody need deal with him on that
head; for her part, before she should contribute
anything that would break his peace with his Mas-
ter, she would rather choose to receive his head at
the cross.” About the same time, two ladies of
the first quality were pleased so far to concern
themselves in his case, as to provide a compliment
in plate—which was not unusual at that time—and
sent it to the advocate’s lady. Afterwards they
went and visited her on his behalf, but were told
by her it was impossible to save his life; and the
compliment was again returned.
Yet it was so overruled in providence, that Mon-
criclf, being much respected, and his hardships
almost universally regretted, upon account of his
eminent piety, integrity, and uprightness, several
of all ranks, and different pcrsuasions, unknown to
him, began to ~make application, and intcrpose for
him, so that the spirit of some of his most violent
persccutors began to abate. His process lingered,
until, after a tedious imprisonment, he fell sick, and
obtained the favour of confinement in Edinburgh.
The parliament “passed this sentence upon him,
“That he, the said Mr Alexander Moncricff, be
for ever incapable of exercising any public trust,
civil or ecclesiastic, within the kingdom, until, in
the next session of parliament further orders be
taken concerning him, and discharge him in the
mean time to go to his parish.” And all this for
owning before them his accession to the “ Remon-
strance and Causes of God’s 1V rath.”
After this sentence, when living peaceably about
eight or nine miles from his own parish, people be—
gan to resort to him, and hear him preach; upon
which, under a most severe storm in the middle of
winter, by virtue of an act made against him, he
was ordered to remove twenty miles from his house
and charge, and seven or eight from a bishop's sent
or royal burgh. He was thus with his family forced
from his house, and obliged to wander in that great
storm; and yet, when he had removed to a place
at a competent distance, even then he got a second
order to remove further, till he was obliged to go
to a remote place in the Highlands, where his God,
who had all along countenanced and supported him
wonderfully in his troubles, honoured him to be
instrumental in the conversion of many.
The persecution somewhat abating, he brought
his family to Perth, for the education of his children,
where he continued preaching the gospel ; a few at
first, but afterwards a great many, attending his

of the horse-guards were sent to apprehend him,
but he escaped, though his house was narrowly
searched. This forced him from his family, and he
was obliged to lurk a good while after this.
At length he came with his family to Edinburgh,
where he preached the gospel many years, under a
series of persecutions. He was intercommuned in
the year 1675 ; and his house and many other places,
in and about the city, were narrowly searched for
him ; yet he was always marvellously hid, of which
many instances might be given. When he went to
the country, many a time parties of the guard were
sent in quest of him, and sometimes he would meet
them in his return, and pass through the midst of
them unknown. \Vhen he was one time lodged
in a remote part of the suburbs of Edinburgh, a
captain, with a party, searched every house and
chamber in the lane, but never entered into the
house he was in, though the door was open.
Again, when he was lurking in a private family
without the walls of Edinburgh, a party was sent
to apprehend him. Providentially he had gone
out to walk by the house; the party, observing him
by his gravity to be a minister, said one to another,
“ That may be the man we are seeking!” “ Nay,”
said another, “ he would not be walking there.”
Again, when he was advertised that the soldiers
were coming to search for him in his own house,
he lingered till another minister came to him, and
said, “Sir, you must surely have a protection from
Heaven, that you are so secure here, when the town
is in such disorder, and a general search to be made.”
Immediately he went off, and in a little after, Mon-
cricff went out also. He was scarcely down stairs
before the guard came up and searched his house.
He took only a short turn in the street, and came
back just as the guard went off.
But the persecution growing still worse, he was
obliged to disperse his family for some time. He
was solicited, when in these circumstances, to leave
the kingdom, and had an ample call to London-
derry in Ireland; yet he always declined to leave
his native country, and in his pleasant way used to
say, he would suffer where he had sinned, and essay
to keep possession of his Master’s house, till he should
come again. He had a severe sickness about the
beginning of June, 1680, in which time he uttered
many heavenly expressions. But he recovered and
continued in this the house of his pilgrimage until
autumn, 1688, when he died and got above all sin
and sorrow, after he had endured a great fight of
affliction to obtain a crown of eternal life.
He was mighty in prayer, and had some very
remarkable answers to it. His memory was savoury
a long time after his death. Many could bear vit-
m. . try. Being again informed against, a party; ness that God was with4lliim of a truth. He left



634
SCOTS IVORTHIES.

p“

many seals of his ministry in Fife, and was a most
faithful and painstaking minister. His sufl'erings
are a little hinted at in the “ Fulfilling of the Scrip-
tures,” though neither he nor his persecutors are
mentioned there.
AN GUS MACBEAN.
ANGUS MACBEAN was born about 1656. After
he had spent some time at the grammar school,
where he made great proficiency, he went to the
university of Aberdeen; there also he began to dis-
tinguish himself, no less for his great regard to
practical religion—although he was yet of the Epis-
copal persuasion—than for his extraordinary parts
and abilities in learning.
About this time the bishops, having found their
mistake in sending men of little learning, and less
religion, to the south and west parts of Scotland,
where the people were much disaffected to them,
applied to the professors of divinity to name some
of the greatest abilities to be sent to these parts.
Accordingly Professor Menzies selected Macbean
from amongst all his students, to be sent to the
town of Ayr; but he did not continue long there,
having got a call to be minister of Inverness, which
he accepted, and was there admitted, December 29,
1683; and there he proved a very popular and
zealous minister. He usually once a-week lectured
on a large portion of Scripture, which was not the
custom then in that apostate and degenerate age.
But notwithstanding his being in the highest
esteem among the prevailing party, the constancy
shown by the sufferers for the cause of truth, and
the cruelty used towards them, made such deep
impressions on his mind, as could never afterwards
be rooted out or effaced. As a natural consequence
of the toleration granted by the duke of York,
Mass was openly set up in the castle of Inverness,
against which Macbean preached publicly, and
warned the people of the imminent danger the
nation was then in. At this the priest was so in-
eensed, that he sent Macbean a letter, challenging
to a public dispute. This letter he received
in a crowd on the weekly market, where he usually
walked with some constables to prevent common
swearing. He went to a shop, and there wrote
such an answer to the priest as determined him to
send no more challenges. The report of this having
spread, some of king James’ officers being there,
entered into a resolution to go to church next
Lord’s day, and to take him out of the pulpit in
case he should utter anything to their prejudice.
Of this he was informed late on Saturday, and bv

some friends was importuned to abstain from saying
anything that might exasperate them. But he
preached next day on Col. i. 18., and proved, that
Christ was the sole king and head of his church, in
opposition to both Popery and Erastianism; where~
upon the officers got all up to execute their design,
which the good man did not observe till he turned
about—for they sat in a left on the left side of the
pulpit. Upon this he said with an authority that put
them out of coimtenance, “For these things I am
become the song of drunkards ;” on which they
all sat down; for it was when drinking that they
had formed that wicked design. From the Popish
controversy he was led to a more serious inquiry
into the merits of what was then the real contro-
versy; and, after serious wrestling with God, and
earnest prayer for light and direction from Him, in
which he spent several nights in his garden, he at
length determined fully to declare for the truth,
whatever might be the consequence. Accordingly,
in 1687, he declined to sit in the presbytery, but
continued to preach. In August, the presbytery
were informed, not only that he absented himself
wilfully, but that he disowned the government of
the church by archbishops, bishops, &c., and they
appointed a committee to converse with him; who
having done so, at a subsequent diet reported that
Macbean declared plainly to them, that he could
not in conscience meet with them in their judica—
tories any more; that in entering the ministry under
bishops he had acted against the force of strong
convictions; that he was convinced Presbytery was
the only government God owned in these nations;
that he was fully determined to make all the satis-
faction he could to the Presbyterians; to preach
for them and in their favotu; and that though he
should be dispensed with, by bishop and presbytery,
from keeping their meetings, he could not promise,
that in his preaching he would not give ground of
misconstruction to those that owned Prelacy. At
the same time his colleague, Mr Gilbert Marshall,
farther reported; that Macbean, both in his public
lectures and sermons, did so reflect upon the go--
vernment of the church, as was like to make a schism
at Inverness; and therefore he had cited him to
that meeting, to answer for his reproachful doctrine.
Macbean did not appear before them; nevertheless
the magistrates prevailed with the presbytery to
desist from proceeding against him at that time.
But shortly thereafter, the presbytery referred him
to the synod of Moray, who appointed a committee
to join with the Presbytery of Inverness to deal
with him.
In the meantime Macbean went to church without
his canonical habit; publicly renounced Prelacy, and
declared himself a Presbyterian; and as he found


THOMAS HOG.
635


not freedom in the exercise of his charge, be de-
mitted it. He preached his farewell sermon on
Job xxxiv. 31, 33. The scriptures be advanced
and insisted on, as warrants for his conduct, were
Isa. viii. 11—14; Jer. xv. 18—21; 2 Cor. vi. 16,
18; and to prove that Christ was the sole Head
of the Church, Eph. v. 23; C01. i. 18; 1 Pet. 7. Next Lord’s day he went to Ross, and there,
in Mr l\Iacgilligen’s meeting-house, preached the
truths he formerly opposed; and some time there-
after he preached at Inverness, till he was by order
if the council called to Edinburgh before them.
On this surprising change and alteration, a great
opposition among the prevailing party soon appear-
ed against him, which was the less to be wondered
at, as he embraced every opportunity of declaring for
the cause of truth, which they most violently opposed;
and therefore the presbytery of Inverness sent one
of their number to inform the bishop of Moray,
then at Glasgow, of the whole affair. But the bishop
dying at that time, the archbishop of St Andrews
took the affair into his cognizance, and procured an
order from the council to bring him to Edinburgh.
In consequence of which he was carried south in
January, 1688, in very tempestuous weather, and
was called before the council, where he made a
bold and noble stand in defence of the truths he
had so solemnly professed. One of the questions
asked at him was, If he thought the king’s power
was limited? To which he answered, “ He knew
no power but the Almighty’s unlimited.” And
though the council could not then find wherewith
to attack him anent the state, yet, to please the
bishops, he must be imprisoned; and, upon the 27th
of February thereafter, the archbishop of St An-
drews convened him before himself and the bishop
of Moray, and five doctors and ministers in Edin-
burgh; wherc, in virtue of his metropolitan capa-
city, he deposed him from the exercise of his pas-
toral office, and deprived him of all benefits that
might accrue to him thereby, since the time of his
wilful desertion; with certification, if he should
transgress therein, the sentence of excommunica-
tion should be passed against him. Upon this he
was ordered back to prison; and, though the in-
habitants of Inverness wrote, earnestly soliciting
him to make some compliance, that they might be
favoured with his return; yet he valiantly with-
stood their cntreaties; and by his answer, dated
July, 1688, he dissuaded them fi‘0m insisting on his
return, as what he assured them would never hap-
pen; and condemns himself in the strongest man-
ner for his adherence to prelacy, declaring against
it in the most express terms, as antiscriptural as ;
IIis confinement and the fa— 1
fluences of his grace poured out upon many through
well as tyrannical.
tigue of his journey having given such a shock to

his constitution—as his life was in danger—Sir Ito—
bert Gordon of Gordonstoun, and Duncan Forbes
of Culloden, offered a bail bond for 100,000 merks,
to the earl of Perth, then chancellor, that they
would present him when called upon, providing he
was set at liberty; but this he refused though in a
very languishing condition in the tolbooth, where
he remained till the earl of Perth made his escape,
when the Edinburgh mob set the prisoners at lib-
erty. After this he continued at Edinburgh, till
February, 1689, when he joyfully finished his course
in the Lord, in the 33d year of his age. Some days
before, news came that the parliament of England
had settled the crown on King William, who put
an end to those bloody times, and that tyrannical
government.
Macbean without all doubt was a man both
pious and learned, although at first brought up in
the prelatical persuasion ; and when near his death,
he fi'equently compared himself in this particular
to hIoses, who fi‘om mount Pisgah saw the land of
promise; but for his sinful compliance, as he always
called it, would not be allowed to enter therein;
having some time before his death a firm belief of
the amazing deliverance which the church and na-
tion soon met with ; and left this mortal life, rejoic-
ing in hope of the glory of God.
THOMAS HOG.
THOMAS HOG was born in 1628, in Tain, in the
county of Ross. His parents were careful to give
their son a liberal education; for which purpose he
was early sent to school, and, from his commence-
ment of the study of letters, he discovered an un-
common genius ; and soon made such proficiency as
rendered him much respected during his youth.
He was much addicted to the harmless diversions
of that age; yet they never abated his progress in
his studies, nor his detestation of anything immo-
ral, or unbecoming the character of a scholar. He
was sent to the university in the New Town of
Aberdeen, where he made great proficiency, ‘and
was admitted Master of Arts, with the special
approbation of the regents of the college.
But though Hog was adorned with these natu-
ral and acquired accomplishments which constitute
a truly amiable person, heightened with the lustre
of an unblameable life; yet as he himself acknow-
ledged, he remained a stranger to the saving oper-
ations of the Spirit of God, till about 1638, when
the arm of the Lord was graciously revealed in the
revival of the work of Reformation, and the in-



636
SCOTS WORTHIES.


the nation; and yet still, his conversation was
strictly moral, and he frequented societies, con-
versed and prayed with them; was in the diligent
use of means ; and in reference to the public state
of religion and reformation, was sound, bold and
resolute ; in his straits acknowledging the Lord
bringing these his difliculties before him, to which
he thought he got some notable returns; yet upon
all these he himself declared, that if he was then in
a state of grace and salvation, he was not in that
state afterwards; for the whole of the following
work, which by the Spirit and Word of God was
wrought on his heart, was founded on a strong and
clear conviction of his having been at that time out
of Christ, notwithstanding all the forementioned
attainments.
‘Vhat the manner and means of his saving con-
version were, we are at a loss to describe; only we
find he was under very deep and severe law-work,
and that his convictions were very close, particular
and pointed, setting his sin before him; and that
during his work, which was of long continuance,
whole clouds of sin hung round him, so that he
was brought well nigh to despair when chaplain to
the Earl of Sutherland, where the work of God
flourished in several souls about that house; among
whom the butler was at the time under the same re—
ligious impressions, unknown to Hog. The Count-
ess, however, who was an eminent Christian, want-
ed not some discernment of what was passing in the
mind of each, and particularly, as will appear by
what follows, in that of Hog.
One time Hog, sitting alone in his chamber in
extreme anguish, nothing but wrath before hnn,
was overtaken by a horrible temptation. It seems
as if the question had been put—\Vhy do you con-
tinue under such intolerable extremity of distress ?—
Put rather an end to a miserable life immediately.
Upon this suggestion, he resented the temptation
and the tempter with indignation. His penknife, at
which the enemy pointed, lying well sharpened up-
on the table, lest the assault should have been
renewed, he rose and threw over the window;
after which he sat down, and fell a musing upon the
intricacies of his distress. In the mean time the
Countess, contrary to her custom, knocking gently
at the door, invited him to go and partake with
her of a present of summer fruit: he went with her,
and behaved so, that nothing could be known con-
cerning his former troubles. He discovered by her
kind speech and behaviour, that she was either im-
pressed with his danger, or that she suspected some-
thing to be wrong with him. After partaking of
the fruit, he returned to his room, and found the
temptation mercifully removed.
As to the manner of his relief, we learn. in gene-



ral, that fi‘om a knowledge of actual sin he was
convinced of original sin, and led to regard that as
the grand source of all his misery. The Lord hav~
ing in this manner laid a solid, clear, and excellent
foundation. he was at length blessed with faith’s
views of the glory of Clnist in his oflices and person ;
which so ravished his soul as to render him most
willing, through grace, to forego, endure, and in His
strength, to adventure upon anything in his cause,
and for his sake.
But the most considerable adventure, while in
this family, was that of his being the instrument to
convert a young gentleman of the name of Munro,
who frequented the house; and, though of a sober
deportment, yet void of real religion. He took
great pleasure in I-Iog’s company, but wasted his
time with idle, frothy, and useless discourse. He
bore with him for some time, but pitying his case,
he used all means possible with him ; till by divine
grace he was wholly brought over from a state of
nature into a state of grace; and if he had visited
IIog often before, he made many more visits to
him after this; but never gave him occasion to
impeach him—for the gentleman became eminently
gracious—and for an evidence that this fine dealing
was blessed, the good man in his after conduct so
excelled in the \irtues most opposed to his former
blemishes, that he was esteemed for accommodating
differences: and several gentlemen submitted their
contests to him, and acquiesced in his sole deter-
mination.
After Hog was settled at Killearn, this gentle-
man made him a visit; where, after other mutual
endearments, the gentleman addressed Hog in this
amazing dialect :—“ Sir, my course is nigh finished,
and I am upon my entrance into a state of eternal
rest. The Lord hath his own way of giving the
watchful Christian previous warning concerning the
end of the warfare ; and I, being so privileged, have
been seriously pondering where it may be most
convenient to breathe out my last, and quietly lay
down this tabernacle; and seeing, after delibera-
tion, I can find no place so fit as with you, I have
ventured to come and die with you.” Hog, per-
ceiving the gentleman to be in good health, en-
deavoured to divert him fi~om these thoughts; but
he firmly persisted in his persuasion; and accor-
dingly, in a few days he was seized with a. fever of
which he died.
I-Iog was licensed to preach the gospel in the
26th year of his age, and ere one year elapsed sev-
eral parishes were competing for him; some of
which could have yielded him a greater living than
he ever had; but he preferred Killearn to the rest,
because he understood that sovereign grace was
pursuing some elect vessels there; and he knew


‘“___
THOMAS HOG.
637


. l' .
that several gentlemen, especially the Baron of l Scotland that complied less with the corruptions
Foulis, were friends to religion; and he was or-
dained minister in 1654 or 1655, with the unani-
mous consent and approbation of all the people in
the parish.
Hog being thus settled heartily applied himself
to his work, taking heed to himself and his doc—
trine, that he might both save himself and them
that heard him; exhibiting a good example before
them in all manner of temperance and Christian
virtues ; but more especially remarkable ‘in his pub—
lic character.
former pastor, and the intervening vacation, being
neglected in their examination, became very ig-
norant; but he was at great pains in distributing
Catechisms and other elementary books among
them; and, going from house to house, he prayed
with, exhorted, and instructed them in the things
pertaining to the kingdom of God. In his deport—
ment, he maintained a dignity suitable to his func-
tion; and no wonder, if we consider the astonishing
success in his ministerial labours, in the conversion
of souls.
So soon as it pleased the Lord thus to bless his
parochial labours with a gracious change wrought
upon a considerable number of the people, he be—
gan to unite the more judicious into societies for
These he kept under his
own inspection, and lent them every assistance in
his power; in consequence of which, they were at-
tended with great success.
In church politics Hog sided with the protesters,
in consequence of which he was in 1661 deposed by
the synod of Ross, because he would not decline
that party judicially; and afterwards, when he
knew he was to be put out of the charge at
Killearn, in 1662, when he delivered his farewell
sermon, he said with the apostle Paul,—he took
God and their own consciences to witness that he
had not shunned to declare the whole counsel of
God to them ;—~and added,—that the storm would
be of a long continuance; but after all, the sky
would clear, and he would live to see it, and be
prayer and CODfOl'CHCC.
His concern and sympathy with the ;
ignorant were great; the majority of the people of
that parish, through the long infirmity of their ,


called to his own charge again as minister of Kil—
learn, and die with them: and further said :—“ If
any of you shall depart from that good way, and
these truths wherein ye have been taught, and shall
comply with the wicked designs now carried on; I
take heaven and earth to witness against you; I
take the stones of these walls I preached in ; every
word that was spoken; and every one of you, to
be witnesses against another.”
\Vith many other f
words he exhorted them ; and his labours were not i
altogether in vain; for there was not a parish in
than they did.
After his ejection, John Card, who was convert-
ed by his ministry, told him, that he should go to
Moray. Of this he had no thoughts at the time;
but soon after the laird of Park offered him Knock-
gaudy, near Oldearn, to labotu‘ and dwell in. This
he accepted, and went thither, where he was avery
useful instrument in the hand of the Lord in turn-
ing many souls to him ; and here finding his private
ministry blessed with success, he adventured to
administer the sacrament in this place; which was
a bold attempt, considering the severity of the
laws at that time. But this solemnity being re-
markably blessed with the divine presence and glory,
the communicants returned to their habitations
with unspeakable joy.
111 1668, he was imprisoned for the truth at
Forres, upon a complaint for holding conventicles ;
and there he was wonderfully strengthened and com~
forted, having great joy in his sufferings. Upon
his account many prayers were offered up by many
in Moray; and these, as one saith of the church’s
prayers for Peter while in this case, “set God a
working.”—-The effect was, that Hog, without his
own knowledge or expectation, was set at liberty,
without any concessions on his part.
But, what was more remarkable, he was again
apprehended about the year 167 6, for the same
cause, and sent to Edinburgh. He said to some
in company, I thank my God, this messenger was
most welcome to me. And giving a scratch with
his nails on the wall, he said,—“ I trust in the living-
God, that before my conscience shall zget that
much of a scratch, this neck”—pointin g to it—“shall
go for it.” Accordingly, when tried, he submitted
himself joyfully to prison, rather than bind him-
self from preaching; and was sent to the Bass,
where, by the air of the place and his close con-
finement, he became sick, whereof he was in great
danger.
opinion, that unless he was liberated from that place,
there was no hope of life. But Hog, hesitating,
would not address that mongrel court, at any rate.
However, the doctor, of his own accord, did it
without his knowledge, and gave in a petition to
the council, in the strongest terms he could devise.
The petition being read, some of the lords inter-
ceded for Hog, and said, that he lived more quiet-
ly, and travelled not the country so much as the
other Presbyterians did. Upon which bishop
Sharp, taking up the argument, said, that the pris-
oner did, and was in a capacity to do, more hurt
to their interests, sitting in his elbow-chair, than
twenty others could do by travelling from one cor-
ner of the land to another; and if the justice (f
A physician being called, he gave his




638
SCOTS \VORTHIES.



God was pursuing him, to take him of the stage,
the clemency of the government should not inter-
pose to hinder it; and it was his opinion, that if
there was any place in the prison worse than an-
other, he should be put there. IVhich motion, be-
ing seconded by the prelates, was put to the vote,
and carried, “to the closest prison in the Bass ;”
which was speedily put in execution. When the
keeper intimated this to Hog, he said, it was as se-
vere as if Satan himself had penned it. 'His ser-
vant William Bulloch, being with him when the
keeper carried him down to that low nasty dungeon
in the Bass, fell a-weeping, and cried, “Now, mas-
ter, your death is unavoidable.” But the good
man, directing his eyes up, said :—-—“N ow that
men have no mercy, the Lord will show himself
merciful ;—from the moment of my entering this
dungeon, I date my recovery.” And so it fell out ;
for, the very next day he recovered surprisingly,
and in a short time was as well as ever. Yet,
afterwards, when speaking of the archprelate, he
never showed any resentment, but merrily said,
“ Commend him to me for a good physician 1”
In the end of 1679, being brought to Edinburgh
before the council, and refusing to take the bond
to live peaceably, he was ordered back to prison,
but afterwards liberated—on what conditions we
do not learn.
About 1683, falling again under the displeasure
of the managers for holding private conventicles,
he was banished by the privy council, and ordain-
to remove off the kingdom in forty-eight hours, un-
‘ less he gave caution not to exercise any part of his
ministry, under the penalty of 5000 merks over and
above performance , which conditions he would by
no means submit to. He therefore retired to Ber-
wick, and from thence to London, with a design the
first opportunity to go from thence to Carolina;
but the pretended plot, called the Presbyterian
plot, then falling out, he was thrown into prison,
where he continued some time. His money being
near spent,-—for besides his own and his servant’s
maintenance, he paid ten shillings Sterling weekly
to the keeper, for a place by himself, and not to be
put down among thieves and felons,—-he said to his
servant \Villiam, I’ll set to-morrow apart for pray-
er, and see that no person be allowed to comein to
interrupt me. Accordingly he rose early, and con-
tinued close at meditation and prayer till twelve
o’clock, when aperson in the habit of a gentleman
desired to speak with him’ William Bulloch told
him, that his master was retired, &c. ; yet he still
interceded to see him. Upon which IVilliam, see-
ing the man of a grave pleasant aspect, reported his
desire to his master, who ordered him to his room.
Hog received him courteously. The other enter-

tained him with a discom'se about suffering for a
good God, and a good cause, and showed that—
“ our light afliictions, which are but for a moment,
are not to be compared with the glory that shall be
revealed.” After which he arose and embraced
Hog, most lovingly, exhorted him to continue in
well-doing, and then took out of his pocket awhite
paper, and gave it to him. Hog, finding its weight,
understood it to be money, and said to the stran-
er :—“ Upon what account, Sir, do you give me
this money?” The stranger answered, “ Because
I am appointed by our great and exalted Master
to do so.” Hog asked his name; and, upon his
refusing to tell it, Hog said, “Sir, it is not curiosi-
ty that prompts me to ask, but I hope to be enlar-
ged, and then I shall account it my duty to call
for you at your dwelling in this city, for I suppose
you are a citizen in London.” The other replied:
-——“ You must ask no more questions, but be faithful
to the death, and thou shalt have a crown of life.”
Then he retired, and Hog never saw nor heard of
him any more. TV hen Hog opened the paper,
there was £5 Sterling in it, which to the good
man was sweeter than if he had got 100 pounds
settled on him yearly.”
After he was set at liberty, being in London in
1685, when the Duke of Monmouth landed in
England and Argyle in Scotland, he plainly told
some of his acquaintances that God would never
honour any of these men to be instruments of our
deliverance. And much about the same time,
some protestants at court knowing he was in the
city, and that he was endued with a prophetic spirit,
drew king James’ attention so far, that he wanted
I-Iog to be consulted concerning affairs at that
juncture. This being communicated to him, he
concealed his mind till he consulted the Lord by
prayer. In the mean time he made ready for his
departure, and then told them what he charged
them to report to him faithfully, thatif king James
had seriously adhered to the principles of our holy
reformed religion, his throne should have been es-
tablished in righteousness ; and if he would yet turn
from popery, matters might be well with him ; but
if otherwise, the land would spue him out. \Vhen
this was reported, the king ordered him to be
speedily apprehended, but he, having foreseen this,
eschewed it by a speedy flight to Holland.
When in Holland, he was soon introduced to the
prince of Orange, who held him in great esteem,
and therefore let him into the secret of his reso-
lution to deliver these nations from popery and tyr-
anny. In the Indulgence Hog agreed with worthy
9* This relation was attested by William Bulloch, who was
his faithful servant near thirty years, who was eye and ear
witness. and was inclined to think he was an angel.



THOMAS HOG.
639


Mr MacWard and Mr Brown, yet was far from
clearness to withdraw fi'om all presbyterian* minis-
ters, who either had not taken the benefit of the
Indulgence, or those exposed to sutfering notwith-
standing the same.
Hog returned to Scotland in 1688, where he
staid till 1691, his old parishioners, finding the
way cleared, sent commissioners to accompany him
back to the parish of Killearn; where he was re-
ceived with great joy in June or July that year.
But his constitution being broken, he was unable
to discharge his function much in public after that;
however, his conversation became still more heav-
enly. King W'illiam, as a reward to his merit, re—
solving to have this good man near him, sent him a
commission to be one of his chaplains, which was
no mean evidence of his esteem for him, and the
truth of his prediction concerning him. But before
ever that honour was bestowed upon him, he was
seized with the trouble, or rather the complication
of troubles, whereof he died.
His sickness was considerably long, and accom-
panied with great pain. One time his judicious
servant, hearing the heavy moans he made, asked
whether it was soul or bodily pain that extorted
such heavy groans from him? To which he com-
posedly replied,——“ No soul trouble man! for a hun-
dred and a hundred times my Lord hath assured
me that I shall be with him for ever; but I am
making moan for my body ;” and thereupon en-
tertained him agreeably concerning the Lord’s pur-
ging away sin from his own children, Isa. xxvii. 9.
At another time, he said :—“ Pity me, 0 ye my
friends, and do not pray for my life ; you see I have
a complication of diseases upon me; allow me to
go to my eternal rest ;” and then, with deep con-
cern of soul, he cried,—“ Look, 0 my God, upon
mine affliction, and forgive all my sins!” And yet,
says his servant,—“ Never was his conversation
more heavenly and spiritual, than when thus
chastised.” Towards his end, he was much feast-
ed with our Saviour’s comfortable message to his
disciples, John xx. 17 :—-“ I ascend to my Father,
and your Father; and to my God, and your God.”


To the writer of some remarkable passages of his
Q C Q i
life, he saith—“he could not give a look to the‘
Lord, but he was persuaded of his everlasting love.” 7
And to Mr Stuart, who succeeded him in that
place, at another time he saith—“X ever did the :
l
" It must of necessity be observed, that any who are ac-
quainted with the historical accounts of these times, will ’
find that Mr Hog was not so explicit upon points of public i
testimony, as the more faithful part of our sufferers at that time ; otherwise he was, for parts and attainments, a very re-
markable and extraordinary man, as this narrative in part l
discovers.
sun in the firmament shine more brightly to the eyes
of my body, than Christ the Sun of righteousness
hath shined on my soul,”—and some time after,
continues the same writer, “when I under-
stood he was very low, I made him my last visit;
and when I asked him how he did, he answered,
‘The unchangeableness of my God is my rock!’
Upon Sabbath evening—for I staid with him that
week,—-—when I came from the church, his speech was
unintelligible to me, but his servant desired me to
pray, and to commit his soul and body to God.
After prayer I retired a little, and when I return-
ed, I found all present in tears at his dissolution,
especially his wife and his faithful servant \Villiam
Bulloch.” Mr James Hog, and the forementioned
writer of these very remarkable passages, add, that
Thomas Hog had many times foretold that his Lord
and Husband was coming; so in the end he cried
out :—“ Now he is come, my Lord is come‘.
Praise, praises to him for evermore! Amen.” And
with these words death closed his eyes, upon the
4th of January, 1692, being about sixty years old.
Hog was of a tall stature, but more remarkable
for his courage and fortitude of mind ; he was most
temperate in his diet and sleep. Gluttony, he said,
was a great incentive to lust, and rising betimes is
not only good for the health, but best adapted for
study, wherein he took great pleasure. His more
serious work, his necessary diversions, as visiting of
friends, &c., and even meaner things, were all gone
about by the rule of duty. He was sought unto by
many for his good and faithful advices, and in pray-
er he was most solemn and fervent, the profound-
est reverence, the lowest submission, and yet a
marvellous boldness and intimacy with God, at-
tended his engagements in this exercise. It might
be truly said of him as of Luther when he prayed,—
it was with so much reverence as if he prayed to
God, and with so much boldness as if he had been
speaking to his friend. And, though the Lord did
not bless him with children, he gave him the pow-
erful assurance of that promise, Isa. hi. 5.—“I
will give thee a name better than of sons and
daughters ;” which he signally fulfilled to him in
making him the instrument of begetting many sons
and daughters to the Lord.
ROBERT FLEMING.
ROBERT F LEMIXG was born at Bathens, m 1630.
He was son to Mr James Fleming, minister of the
gospel there, who, being a very godly and religious
man, took great care of his son’s education; and for
i that purpose sent him first of all to the university of




640
SCOTS \‘i'ORTI-IIES.




Edinburgh, where he finished his course of philoso-
phy with great applause, and made great progress
in the learned languages. Then being translated
to St Andrews, he passed his com'se of theology in
that university under the teaching of worthy Mr
Rutheiford.
Before he was full twenty-three years old, he was
called to a pastoral charge, and was settled therein
at Cambuslang, in Clydesdale, where he served the
Lord in the ministry till after the restoration of
Charles II., when that storm arose that move out
so many, and particularly that act, commonly call-
ed the Glasgow act, whereby near 400 faithful min-
isters were ejected, of whom the world was not
worthy.
He had taken to wife Christiana Hamilton, just-
ly famed for her personal attractions, gifts, and
graces. By her he had seven children, and, with
them and himself, whom he committed to the care
of God, he humbly received the honour of his ejec-
tion. Of the children the Lord received three
unto himself, before their mother, and two after
her; the other two survived their father for some
time. As for his worldly substance, his share
seemed according to Agur’s desire; and with
Luther he said, to his knowledge he never desired
much of it, or was very careful for or about it ; for,
during the most tragical days of the persecution his
table was covered and cup filled, and his head an-
ointed with fi-esh oil; his children were liberally ed-
ucated, and in his work he was profusely rich; but
of his own laying up he had no treasure but in heav-
en. According to his own testimony, his life was
made up of seeming contradictions, great outward
trouble, and great inward comfort; and I never
found, said he, more comfort than when under
most affliction.
For some time after his ejection, he lived for the
most part at Edinburgh, Fife, and other places,
until September, 1673. \Vhen the ministers in and
about Edinburgh were called to appear before the
council to hear their sentence, he and some others,
not appearing, were ordered to be apprehended,
wherever they could be found. This made him shift
as well as he could for some time. till he was at last
apprehended, and imprisoned in the tolbooth of
Edinburgh, where he was in confinement during the
battle of Bothwell—Bridge. A little after he was,
with some others, called before the council. and
though they were willing to find bail for their ap-
pearance, when called, yet because they refused to
live peaceably, and not to rise up in arms against
the king, or any authorized by him, they were re-
manded to PI'lSOD. However he was liberatedf'f


and went to Holland, where after the death of the
famous and faithful Mr Brown, he was admitted
pastor of the Scots congregation at Rotterdam.
And here again his activity in the ministry was
such as was to be expected from such an enlarged
mind. IV hat kind of writer he was, need not here
be told; but in preaching he might be called a
Boanerges ; and a Barnabas also, for converse and
for all things useful. IV hat might Cambuslang
testify of him ?—-\Vhat might Edinburgh and places
adjacent, where, after his ejection, he lived and la-
boured ‘P lVhat might Rotterdam say, where, fi'om
1679 till towards his end, he was a bright and shin-
ing light? There was no time wherein we may
suppose that he had no good design going on. It
is well known, that a little before his death, he had
contemplated the publication of a treatise concern-
ing the ways of the Holy Ghost’s working upon the
souls of men.
As he was religious, so he was said to be of a
peaceful and friendly disposition, not much given to
controversy. \Vhen speaking of the differences a-
mongst some brethren, he would say, “ I am amazed
to see good men thus tear one another in the dark ;
nor can I understand how they should have grace
in lively exercise, who value their own particular
designs above the interests of the catholic church.”
Nor is it to be forgot what he said to one of his
own sons in the faith, “I bless God,—said he,—that
in fifteen years I have never given any man’s credit
a thrust behind his back; but when I had ground
to speak well of any man, I did so with faithfulness,
and when I wanted a subject that way, I kept si-
lence. ”
According to his practice, his life was a life of
extraordinary worship. I'lis solemn dedication of
himself to his God was fi'equent; his soliloquies
with him almost perpetual; as spending his days
and years after this manner, in order to which we
find it was his custom, from the 15th or 16th year
of his age, to set apart the first day of every year
for renewing his covenant with God; or if inter-
rupted that day, to take the next day following.
For the first years of his life we cannot give any
particular account of the manner of his doing this ;
but we may guess what they have been, from the
few instances following :—
* Mr P. Walker in his remarks says, That while he was
in prison be dealt earnestly with Messrs King and Kid, than
“ 1691. In the entry of this new year, as I have
now done for many years most solemnly, I desire
under sentence of death, to give a healing testimony in favour
of the Indulged; and that he was liberated upon the terms
of the indemnity, &c. However, be this as it may, to dero-
gate from nothing due to the memory of Mr Fleming, it is
well known that though he never actively indulged himself,
yet he ran into some extremes in coalescence with them;
which was no small grief at that time to faithful Mr
MadVard, as witness his “ Earnest Contendings,” 8:0.



ROBERT
641
FLEMING.


again to renew‘my personal engaging of myself to
the Lord my God, and for him, and with my whole
heart and desire, to enter myself into his service,
and take on his blessed yoke, and humbly to lay
claim, take and embrace him—O him !—to be my
God, my all, my light, and my salvation, my shield,
and exceeding great reward :—‘ \Vhom have I in
heaven but thee, O Lord, or in the earth whom I
desire besides thee?’ And now, under thy blessed
hand, my soul desires, and does here testify my
trusting myself, and securing my whole interest,
my credit, my conduct, my comfort, my assistance,
and my poor children, and to leave myself herein
on thy gracious‘ hand, on my dearest Lord, whilst
in time—~as I write this, the 2d day of January,
1691.
“R. FLEMING.”
“1692. In the entry and first day of this new
year, I desire, as formerly, to enter in this hidden
record, a new surrender and offering of myself to
my dear Lord and Master, who hath been wonder-
fully tender and gracious to me, and hath brought
me by his immediate conduct through the days and
years of my pilgrimage past, hath still cared for his
poor servant, and given more singular mercies and
evidences of respect than to many else; and now,
as still formerly, hath taken me through this last
year with singular evidences of his presence and as-
sistance; and as I trusted myself to my Lord, so he
hath graciously answered ; for which, and his special
grace hitherto, I desire to insert this witness of my
soul’s blessing the Lord my God.
“ And now I do here, with my full and joyful
consent, testify my giving up myself again to the
Lord, and to his work and service here, and wher-
ever he shall call me, with desire to consecrate my
old age to my God and the guide of my youth. I
love my Master and his services, and let my ears -
be nailed to the posts of his door, as one who would
not go free from that blessed yoke and service ; and
lay in hope the whole assistance hereof on his grace
and help. To him I commit myself, my ways, my
works and services, which, with my whole desire I
offer to my Lord, in whose hand I desire to secure
my credit for the gospel’s sake, my comfort and en-
largement in this day of deep trouble and anguish,
together with my poor children, and the whole in-
terest of my family and concerns, desiring to put
myself with humble confidence, and all that is:
dear to me, under his care and conduct.
soul, bless thou the Lord!
January, 1692.
O my
‘ My Lord and my God.’
“ R. FLEMIxe."
" 1694. In the first day and Monday of this new
This I write the 1st of
year, 1694, that as I have formerly, through most
of my life past, so now I desire to renew my de-
dication and engagement to the Lord my God, and
to join in the same witness with what herein hath
been formerly, with my whole heart and desire, and
to offer to my dearest Lord praise, in remembrance
of what he hath been through the year past, and in
the whole of my life, whose gracious tender con-
duct hath been so wonderful :-—and well hast thou,
Lord, dealt with thy servant, according to thy
word—in all that hath befallen me.
“And now I do again, by a surrender, Witness
my entire commitment of myself, my poor children,
my credit for the gospel, my conduct and comfort
in so extraordinary a juncture, to my dearest Lord,
to his gracious and compassionate care and pro-
vidence; together with my works, and any small
design to serve him and my generation; and I do
entreat new supplies of his grace and strength, to
secure and make hlS poor servant, if it were his
blessed will, yet more abundantly forthcoming to
him. And with hopes of acceptance, I write this
1st January, 1694. Post tenebras spero lace-m.
“ R. FLEMING.”
But now drawing near his end, in the same year
1694, upon the 17th of July he took ill, and on the
25th died. On his first arrest, “ O friends”—said he
to such as were about him—“ sickness and death are
serious things I” But till the spark of his fever was
risen to a flame, he was not aware that his sickness
was to be unto death ; for he told a relation, that if
it should be so, it was strange, seeing the Lord did
not hide from him the things that he did with him
and his. Yet before his expiration, he was appre-
hensive of its approach. Calling to him a friend,
he asked what freedom he found in prayer for
him—“ Seems God to beckon to your petitions, or
does he bring up, and leave dark impressions on
your mind? This way,’7 said he, “ Ihave often known
the mind of the Lord.” His friend telling him he
was under darkness in the case, he replied, “I know
your mind, trouble not yourself for me, I think 1
may say, I have been long above the fear of death l'”
All the while his groans and struggling argued
him to be under no small pain; but his answers to
inquiring friends certified that the distress did not
enter his soul. Always he would say, “I am well,”
or, “Iwas never better,” or, “ I feel no sickness.”
This he would say, while he seemed to be sensible
of everything except pain. But the malignant
distemper wasting his natural spirits, he could speak
but little, though what he spoke was all of it like
himself. Having felt himself indisposed for his
i wonted meditation and prayer, he thus said to some
near him, “I have not been able in a manner to form


642
SCOTS WORTHIES.



one serious thought since I was sick, or to apply
myself unto God; he has applied himself unto me,
and one of his manifestations was such as I could
have borne no more. Opening his eyes after a long
sleep, one of his sons asked him how he did, he
answered, never better. “Do you know me,” said his
son? Unto which with a sweet smile, he answered,
“Yes, yes, dear son, Iknow you!” This was about
two hours before he died. About an hour after-
wards he cried earnestly,—“ Help, help, for the
Lord’s sake !” and then breathed weaker and weak—
er till he gave up the ghost; and after he had seen
the salvation of God, he departed in peace, in the
sixty-fourth year of his age.
Thus lived and died Fleming, after he had served
his day and generation. His works yet declare
what sort of man he was; for besides the fore-
mentioned treatise, the Confirming Work of Re-
ligion, his Epistolary Discourse, and his well-known
book, The Fulfilling of the Scriptures, he composed
also another work, entitled—A short Index of some
of the Great Appearances of the Lord in the Dis-
pensations of his Providence to his Poor Servant.
ALEXANDER SHIELDS.
ALEXANDER SHIELDS, son to James Shields of
Haugh-head in theMerse, was born in 1660, or 1661 .
Bemg sent to school at an early age, such was his
proficiency, that in a short time he entered upon
the study of philosophy, under Sir \Villiam Pater-
son, then regent of the college of Edinburgh,
afterwards clerk to the bloody council, where his
progress was no less distinguished, receiving soon
the degree of Master of Arts, and that with con-
siderable applause. After this he began to turn
his attention to the study of divinity with a view to
the ministry. But finding little encouragement for
any who could not in conscience join with prelacy,
or the prevailing defections of those called the In-
dulged; he took a resolution, and went among
others to Holland—shortly before or after Both—
well—for the further improvement of his studies ;
where he continued for a short time, and then re-
turned to his native country.
Upon his going to London to be an amanuensis
to Dr Owen, or some of the English divines, he had
a letter of recommendation to a Mr Blackie, a
Scots minister, who, appointing him to speak with
him at a certain season, had several ministers con-
vened unknown to him, to be present also, who all
of them pressed and enjoined him to take license.
So that being led into it, in that sudden and sur-
prising way, he accepted of it from the Scots dis—


senting ministers at London, but without any im~
position or sinful restriction. However the oath of
allegiance becoming in a short time the trial of that
place, Shields studied, as he had occasion, to show
the sinfulness thereof, which these ministers took so
ill, that they threatened to depose him. This, how-
ever, by no means intimidated him.
But it was not long that he could have liberty
to exercise his office here. For, upon the 11th
January, 1685, he was, with some others, appre-
hended by the city-marischal,—at a private meet-
ing in Gutter-lane,——who came upon them una-
wares, and commanded them to surrender in the
king’s name. Shields being first in his way, replied,
“ W'hat king do you mean? By whose authority do
you disturb the peaceable ordinances of Jesus Christ?
Sir, you dishonour your king in making him an
enemy to the worship of God.” At which the
marischal said, he had other business to do than
stand prating with him. Shields made an attempt
to escape, but was not able; and he and his com-
panions were brought before the lord mayor, who
threatened to send him to Bridewell. However,
bail was offered and admitted for him, to answer
at Guildhall upon the 14th; upon which day he
attended, with a firm resolution to answer. But
while he went out for refi‘eshment, he was called
for, and none answering, his bail-bond was forfeited,
which afterwards gave him no small uneasiness
when the wife of the person who had become his
surety said to him, Alas! why have you ruined our
family? However, to prevent fiirther damage, he
appeared on the 20th, when he was arraigned in
common form, and examined, whether he was at
Bothwell, and if he approved of bishop Sharp’s
death, putting also several other questions. To which
he replied, that he was not obliged to give an ac-
count of his thoughts, and that he came there to
answer to his indictment, and not to such questions
as these. Upon this he was taken to Newgate
by a single officer, without any mittimus, or any
express order to what prison he should be com-
mitted. By the way—says he*—-he could have
escaped, had he not been led or betrayed there by
flattery. It was some days before his mittimus
came, by which "he was ordered to be kept in cus—
tody till the next quarter-session, which was to be
at Guildhall on the 23d of February following.
But Charles II. dying in this interval, he was,
with other seven who were apprehended with him,
March 5, put on board the Kitchen yacht for
Scotland, and landed at Leith on the 13th, and the
next day Shields was examined before the council,
where he pleaded the liberty of his thoughts, asking
* In his own Impartial Relation, p. 1].


ALEXANDER SHIELDS.
643


_._.
them to prove his accusation, and waiving a direct
answer anent owning the king’s authority ; which
gave way to his subsequent fall as he, in his own
impartial account of his sufferings, observes among
other reflections ; “ In this I cannot but adore the
wisdom of the Lord’s conduct, but with blush-
ing at the folly of mine. I was indeed determined,
I think, by a sovereign hand, and led upon this not
usually trodden path by truth’s confessors beyond
my ordinary genius or inclination, to fence with
these long weapons, declining direct answers, which
is the most difiicult road, and most liable to snares;
and wherein it is more hard to avoid wronging
truth than in the plain and open-hearted way.”
However, he was ordered back to prison till the
23d, when he was brought before the justiciary,
and interrogated whether he would abjure the Apo-
logetical Declaration, and own the authority of
James VII. But being still reserved, he was sent
back till the 25th, and from thence continued till
the day following, which he calls the day of his
fatal fall, the just desert of his former blind and
bold approaches to the brink of these precipices
over which he had looked, and was now left to fall
therein. Here he was examined to the effect afore-
said, and withal threatened with the most severe
usage if he did not satisfy them. Upon which he
gave in a minute in writing, wherein after a short
preamble, he says, “The result of my thoughts is
in the sincerity of an unfeigned conscience, and in
the fear of God I do renounce and disown that and
all other declarations, in so far as they declare
war against the king expressly, purposely or de-
signedly, and assert that it lawful to kill all em-
ployed by his majesty, or any, because so employed
in church, state, army, or country.” \V hen they
read this, they said it was satisfactory, and requir-
ed him to hold up his hand. This he still refused,
till allowed to dictate to the clerk what words he
should swear; which being done, he protested
against the construing of it to any other sense than
the genuine words contained in the minute. That
which induced him to this, he says, was, “They
gave it in his own meaning; and so far was his
mind deceived, that by a quibble and nice distinc-
tion he thought the word might bear, that this was
not a disowning of that nor any declaration'
he ever saw,-—save one of their pretending,—nor
that neither, but “in so far, orif so be ;"’ which dif-
ferent expressions he was taught to confound by

scholastic notions infused into him by the court, ,
and some of the Indulged ministers while in pri-
son.” Having so done, the justiciary dismissed
him, but, on pretence he was the council's pris-
oner, he was sent back to his prison now more disa-
greeable than ever. For he had no sooner made
this foolish and unfaithful step of eompliance,—as
he himself expresses it,—-than his conscience smote
him, and continuing to do so, he considered his fall
so great that no words could express it.
Yet after all this his dangers were not over; for
having written a letter to John Balfour, to be by
him transmitted to some friends in Holland, declar-
ing his grief and sorrow, and his mind respecting
his former compliances, it fell into the enemies’
hands; upon which he was again brought before
the lords of council; and though much threaten~
ing ensued, yet he owned the letter, and declared
his sorrow for what he had formerly done. After
which they appointed him to confer with the arch-
bishop of St Andrews, and the bishops of Glasgow
and Dunkeld. IVith them he had a long confer-
ence, and, among other things, they asserted that
all powers were ordained of God, be they what
they may. He answered, “All power is ordained
of God, by his provident will, but every power as-
sumed by man is not so by his appropriate and
preceptive will.” One of the prelates said, that
even his provident will is not to be resisted. He
answered, that the holy product of it cannot, and
may not, but the instrument he made use of some-
times might be resisted. It was urged that N CI‘L
was then regining when this command of non-re-
sistance was given. He answered, that the com-
mand was given in general for our instruction how
to perform our duty under lawful magistrates, ab-
stracting fi'om Nero. Then they asked him, how
he would reconcile his principles with that article
in the Confession of Faith, That difference in reli
on, &c. He answered, “ Very easily ; for, though
difference in religion did not make void his power,
yet it might stop his admission to that power where
that religion he differed from was established by
law.”
He was confined till August 6, when he was
again indicted and brought before the justiciary,
which made him write two letters, one to the ad-
vocate, and the other to his old regent, Sir W'illian;
Paterson, which he thought somewhat mitigated
their fury. Upon which he drew up a declaration
of his sentiments, and gave it in to the lords of
council, when much reasoning between him and
them ensued. After two conferences, wherein he
was asked many questions, in the third he agreed
to sign the oath of abjuration, which they had so
much insisted he should again take, as he had at
their command torn his name from the first; only
with this difference in the wording, “if so be such
things are there inserted ;"’ which he told them, he
was sure was not the case: this with difficulty was
granted. As he subscribed. he protested before
them.,—“ That none were to think by this he insti-


644
SCOTS \V ()ltTHlES.





fled the act of succession, or the abrogation of the
ancient laws about it, or the want of security for
religion or liberty, or that he acknowledged the di-
vine approbation of it.” \Vhen all was over he
was detained till next day; after which he was sent
to the Bass, and no doubt would have suffered,
had he not got out in women’s clothes and escaped.
After his escape, Without seeking after any other
party whatsoever, he went straight to Mr Renwick,
and that faithful contending remnant then in the
fields; where, upon the 5th of December, 1686, he
attended a meeting for preaching at the Wood of
Earlston in Galloway, after which he continued
with Mr Renwick for some time.
he ceased not, both in public and private, to give
full proof and evidence of his hearty grief and sor—
row for his former apostasy and compliances.
Upon the 22d he came to their general meeting,
where he gave them full satisfaction in espousing
all and every part of their testimony, and likewise
made a public confession of his own guilt; wherein
he acknowledged :—~ “ 1. That hehad involved him-
During this
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a hill in the parish of Galston, and many other
places ; and about the end of the same year, 1688,
when Kersland and the united societies, who had,
in the interregnum of the government, thrust out
some of the curates, and demolished some of the
popish monuments of idolatry, were obliged to‘
publish a vindication of themselves in these pro-
ceedings; which they did at the cross of Douglas,
Shields being present, sang some verses in the
o .\_ I: ~



i self in the guilt of owning the so-called authority
of James VIL, showing the sinfulness thereof,
taking shame to himself. 2. He acknowledged
his guilt in taking the oath of abjuratioi'i, and his
relapsing into the same inicpiity, the sinfulncss oi
which he held forth at great length, and spoke so
largely to these 1')articulars, as, discovering the hei-
nousness of that sin, made Mr Renwick say;—
“I think none could have done it, unless they had
known the terrors of the Lord ;” and added,—“ I
thought it both singular and promising to see a
clergyman come forth with such a confession of his
own defections, when so few of that set are seen in
our age to be honoured with the like.”
After this, when Mr Renwick and the united
societies were obliged to publish their informatory
vindication, Shields went over to Holland to
have the same printed about the beginning of the
year 1687 ; but it appears he was forced to return
home before that work was finished.
After Mr Renwick’s death, he continued for some
time in the fields, preaching in Crawford moors, at
.-> » i .
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_ *Qé‘ifi" ‘is’
beginning of the 76th psalm,-—-‘~In Judah’s land
God is well known ;” and while expatiating on the
same, said :—“ that this psalm was sweetly sung by
famous Mr Robert Bruce, at the cross of Edinburgh,
on the dispersion of the Spanish Armada, a hundred
years ago.”
Upon the 3d of March, 1689, when be, Mr Lin~
ning, and Mr Boyd, renewed the covenants at Bor-
land hill in Lesmahagow, Shields stood up again





JOHN DICKSON.
645




before a vast concourse of people, and declared his
unfeigned sorrow for his former sin of compliances,
&c., to the affecting of all the multitude, and the
abundant satisfaction of the godly there present,
who had been grieved therewith.
At and after the Revolution, he was of much ser-
vice to the army, and greatly esteemed by king
‘Villiam; and after his return home, he, with the
foresaid Messrs Linning and Boyd, presented a
large paper of proposals to the first General Assem-
bly after the Revolution, both craving a reth'ess of
their grievances, and likewise showing on what
terms they and their people could and would join
with them. But this paper being judged by
the committee of this Assembly to contain “per-
emptory and gross mistakes, unseasonable and im-
practicable proposals, and uncharitable and inju-
rious reflections, tending rather to kindle contention
than compose divisions,” it never once got a hear-
ing but was thrown over the bar of that Assem-
bly. And yet, notwithstanding all this, the three
foresaid brethren being resolved to unite with them
at any rate, gave in another, called the shorter
paper, importing their submission, casting down all
their former proposals and desires upon the As-
scmbly’s table,—-—“to be disposed of as their wis-
dom should think fit.”
Soon after the Revolution, he was settled minis-
ter at St Andrews, where he continued in the dis-
charge of his office until 1699, that he, with
Messrs Borland, Stobo, and Dalgliesh, were pitched
upon to go over with his countrymen to the na-
tional settlement at Darien in America.
by letters under his own hand, he gave a parti-
cular account of matters; in which it is evident
that his spirit was quite sunk with the divisions,
impiety, and unrighteousness, of too many of that
handful, and was at last sadly crushed with the fa-
tal disappointment of the undertaking itself, by the
conduct of the existing government. He showed
also, that had it been faithfully and well managed,
it might have turned out greatly advantageous to
this nation, as well as to the christian religion.
‘Vhile in Caledonia he preached for the most
Here, *

part from Acts xvii. 26, 27. “ God hath determin- ‘
ed the times before appointed, and the bounds of
our habitation,” 8:0. One time as he and the rest of I
the ministers made a tour up the country, upon 1
their return, they were bewildered in the woods. '
Hearing the noise of the sea, they got at last to
the shore, and being obliged to pass through va-
rious windings along the coast, under lash of the
swelling surges, they were sometimes obliged to
climb upon their hands and feet over the steep
and high rocks, until at last Shields was like to
faint. Their provisions and cordials being spent.
they came at length to a welcome spring of fresl
water, gushing out of the rock by the sea—side :—
“This well,” says Mr Borland, “was to us as the well
was to Hagar in the wilderness. By it we rested
a little; and Mr Shields having drunk, was refreshed
and strengthened, and by the help of the Lord,
we were enabled to proceed on our journey.” Af-
ter this Shields and Mr Borland escaped death
very narrowly, the ship sinking in the harbour of
Kingston, a very little after they had gone out of
it. He died of a malignant fever, June 14, 1700,
in a Scotswoman’s house at Port Royal, in Jamaica,
a little after he left Caledonia. A kind country
woman, Isabel Murray, paid the expense of his fu-
neral. His last sermon was from the last words of
lIosea,—“Who is wise, and he shall understand
these things? prudent, and he shall know them?
for the ways of the Lord are right, and the just
shall walk in them : but the trangressors shall
fall therein?”ie
And thus the truly famous Alexander Shields,
after he had tasted somewhat of the various vicis-
situdes of life and fortune, was obliged to die in a
strange land. He was a man of low stature, ruddy
complexion, quick and piercing wit, full of zeal to
whatever party he sided with, of a public spirit,
and firm in the cause he espoused ; pretty well skill-
ed in most branches of learning; in arguing very
ready, only somewhat fiery; while in writing on con-
troversy, he exceeded most men of that age.
His works are, the Hind let Loose ; Mr Renwick’s
Life; the Vindication of his Dying Testimony;
his own Impartial Relation; and the Renovation of
the Covenant at Borland hill. Some Lectures
and Sermons of his have also been published; a
Vindication of our Solemn Covenants ; and several
of his Religious Letters, both before and since the
Revolution. After his death, Mr Linning pub-
ished an Essay of his on Church-Communion. But
how far this agrees with his conduct at the Revo-
lution, or what relation it had to his other writings,
or if Mr Linning had any hand therein, is not our
province to determine at present.
JOHN DICKSON.
JOHN DICKSOX, born of creditable parents, sup-
posed to have been related to Mr David Dickson,
' was sent to a grammar-school, and from thence to
' the university; where, after he had finished his
course of learning, he studied diyinity, and ther.
passed his trials for the ministry ; and, being found
’ See a more full account of Shields, both while in Cale-
. donia and Jamaica, in the History of Darien. p. 42-49.


646
SCOTS WORTHIES.




duly qualified for that office, he was licensed, and
soon after ordained minister of Rutherglen, where
he continued for some time a most faithful, dili-
gent, and painstaking preacher of the gospel.
Very soon, however, after the restoration of
Charles II., prelacy beginning to advance in Scot-
land, he was, upon the 13th of October, 1660,
brought before the committee of estates, and by
them imprisoned in the tolbooth of Edinburgh—in—
formation having been given in against him by Sir
James Hamilton of Elistounf'lE and some of his par-
ishioners, for some expressions he had used in a
sermon, alleged to reflect upon the government and
committee of estates. For this he was kept in prison
till the parliament met, and his church declared
vacant; but though he got off at this time, yet
he was exposed to much trouble and suffering after-
wards.
Dickson was obliged to wander from place to
place, with the rest of those who could not in con-
science comply with the current of defection and
apostasy at that time; preaching to such as em-
ployed him; in which he ceased not to show
the sinfulness of bonding, cess-paying, and of the
Indulgence. He likewise wrote a faithful warning
to the shire of Fife against them, showing, in the
most affecting and striking manner, the hazard and
evil of such a complianced'
In 1670, he preached at Glenvail, and in J unc,
that year, he and Mr Blackadder addressed a
numerous congregation at Becth-hill, in the parish
of Dunfermline. ‘Vhile they were at public
worship upon the Lord’s day, a lieutenant of
militia in that place came up on horseback to the
people, and made a great deal of disturbance,
attempting to frighten, and, if possible, to scatter
them; upon which one, more courageous than the
rest, stepped forward to him, and, after entreating
him to remove peaceably, took his horse by the
bridle, drew out a pistol, and told him he would
shoot him dead if he was not silent; and, whether
he would or not, he was compelled to sit on horse-
back till public worship was over ; after which he
had liberty to go where he pleased. Upon the
* This family that pursued him is long ago extinct, and
their house—as Mr Dickson very publiclyforetold in the hearing
of many—after it had been a habitation for owls, the foun-
dation-stones were digged up. The inhabitants there could
not but observe, that those who were informers, accusers,
and witnesses against Mr Dickson,--some Of them magis-
trates then in the town,—were brought so low, that they
were sustained by the charity of the parish. S0 hard 3. thing
it is to meddle with the servants of Jesus Christ.
1‘ It was no doubt such faithful freedom that made that
defamatory scribbler say in his Presbyterian Eloquence, that
Dickson said in a sermon at Galashiels, that cess-paying to
Charles II. was as bad as sacrificing to devils.

l
I
back of this horrid insult,—-—as the persecutors were
pleased to call it,--upon the 11th of August, a de-
cree was obtained by the king’s advocate against
Dickson, Mr Blackadder, and several other minis~
ters, in which they were charged with holding con—
venticles in houses and in fields; and being, after
citation, called, and not compearing, they were, in
absence, denounced and put to the horn, which
obliged them to wander up and down the country,
sometimes preaching in the fields where they had
opportunity.
Thus Dickson continued in the midst of imminent
hazards; for, by virtue of a. new-modelled coimcil,
June 4, 1674, there were orders to send out parties
in quest of all conventicle preachers, who accepted
not of the Indulgence, amongst whom were Micssrs
Dickson, ‘Welch, Blackadder and others. For Mr
\Velch 400 pounds Sterling were offered, and 1000
merks for Dickson, and each of the rest; nay, the
soldiers were indemnified, and also their assistants,
if any slaughter was committed in apprehending
in cases of resistance. This exposed Dickson to
new dangers, although for a time he escaped their
fury. _
After the battle at Bothwell Bridge—the perse
cution becoming still hotter, and the searches more
frequent—he was apprehended in the year 1680,
and brought to Edinburgh prisoner by some of the
guards, under bail to answer before the council.
September 1. Accordingly the council ordered
him to be sent to the Bass, where he continued
nearly seven years.
IVhile prisoner there, he wrote a most excellent
letter to some friends, in which he not only bewails
and laments the apostasy of these lands from God,
and asks what our noble Scots \Vorthies would
think or say, were they then alive to behold the
same; but also gives many practical and suitable
directions how to behave in following Christ and
owning his cause under the Cross, and walking in
the furnace of affiiction and tribulation.
After he was dismissed from prison, he returned
to his flock, at Rutherglen, very soon after the Re-
volution, where he again exercised his ministe-
rial function, and that upon all hazards?‘ In 1698,
October 4, at the meeting of the synod at Ayr, he
preached a very free and faithful sermon, upon the
* Mr Dickson being one who maintained and defended the
lawfulness of defensive arms, either about this time or at the
Restoration, before he was ejected, kept the sacrament of
the Lord’s supper, probably at Rutherglen, while the people
kept guard by sentries under arms the whole time of the dis-
pensation thereof; which truly sets forth the danger and
hazard of these times, and the aggravations of our sins in mis-
improving these mercies and privileges which they could
not peaceably enjoy.



JOHN DICKSON.
647







duty and qualification of a faithful watchman, frt in
these words, Isa. lxii. 6.-—"‘I have set watchmen
upon thy walls, O Jerusalem,” &c.
Although Dickson still acceded to the Revo-
lution- church, yet he was much grieved when he
beheld how far inferior the glory of the secon-l
temple was to the first, which does most evidently
appear from his own words, in a letter to one a
little before his death.
Thus, in 17 00, died worthy John Dickson in a
good old age, after he had by his longevity seen
somewhat of the glory both of the first and second
temple, and emerged out of all his troubles,
having got a more perspicuous view of our national
apostasy, our breach of Covenant, and other defec-
tions, past, present, and to come, with the Lord’s
goodness and mercy towards his own remnant ; and
all this from the top of mount Pisgah, when he
was just about to enter upon the confines of Im-
manuel’s land of glory.
Of his works, we have only seen his synod ser-
mon, and the foresaid letters. If there be any
other, it is more than is known at present, except
the foresaid warning to the Indulged in the shire ( f
Fife, which was some time ago also published; all
which show him to be a most pathetic writer, and
makes as striking, and lively an impression upon
the mind, as those of any man of his time.
'I‘Es'rIMoxY or JOHN DICKSON.
“THE conception you have of the dispensation
of the Lord towards this poor plagued church, and
the temper of the spirits of professors under this
dispensation, are not different from what many
of the Lord’s people are groaning under. There
is, palpably, a sensible difference betwixt what the
church now is, and what it was many years ago;


yea, what it hath been within these few years.
The church hath lost much ground, and is still up-
on the losing hand ; and it seems will continue so, ‘
until it pleases the Lord to pour down his spirit‘
from on high, or else, by some sharp awakening
dispensation, rouse up drowsy souls out of the leth-
argy wherein they are fallen It is many years
since the sun fell low upon Scotland; many a dis- i
mal day hath it seen since 1649. At that time our Reformation mounted towards it highest horizon; 5
and since we left our building on that excellent
foundation laid by our honoured forefathers, wei
have still moved from ill to worse, and are like to i
do so still more,—unless our gracious God prevent ,
it,——until we slide ourselves out of sight and sense of
a Reformation. IVe have been lately trysted with a 1
wonderful deliverance from the slavery of a heaven-
daring enemy; but not one line of reformation is l
pencilled upon our deliverance.ale We have the
shell of ordinances and church government, but
want the kernel, the great things of Christ’s
law; as to contend for his interests is wrapped un-
der a cloud. It is a long time since our Covenant
and solemn engagements looked pale. They have
lost colour and verdure since the rescinding oui
vows to God. These covenants are turned skele-
tons, fearsome and affrighting; and former respect
to them is like gradually to dwine away under a
consumption. There are some few things that
made them the glory of nations, that are turned to
a shadow.
“1. They were the fruit of many prayers, fast-
ings, tears, wrestlings, and indefatigable labours, of
the greatest and best men that ever breathed in our
nation, recovering a people sunk into Antichristian
darkness, to enjoy liberty due to them by Christ’s
purchase.
“2. The renewing them so many times in king
James’ reign, spoke out the fervency of these
worthy spirits in ardour and affection to them, as
so many jewels of so great value, that they were
set as gems and pearlsin Christ’s crown, to wear so
long as his interest remained in the church.
“ 3. The blessings accompanying the entering
into, and renewing these Covenants, were so fluent
in all church ordinances both secret, private, and
public, that whatever was planted in so fruitful a
soil, of such blessing and influence of the Spirit,
could not but ‘ grow up as calves in the stall, fat and
full of sap.’
“ 11. These Covenants were to our forefathers, like
the renting of their own clothes, as Elisha did, and
taking up Elijah’s mantle, and clothing themselves
with it, 2 Kings 12, 13; enjoying of Moses’ spirit,
Deut. xxiv, and, like Joshua xxiv, when dying,
leaving a testimony of remembrance to posterity,
by engaging them in these Covenants.
“ 5. So long as our church cleaved to these our
Covenants, it fell out with them as it did with king
Asa, 2 Chron. xv. 2, that the Lord was with them
while they were with him. But our fathers’ off-
spring forsaking God, God forsook them : from that
If these were Mr Dickson's sentiments then of the Re-
volution-settlement, so much now gloried in and boasted of
by many, they must be either ignorantly blind, or under an
infatuation, who see not that things are a great deal worse
(though the same as to the constitution) than in his day.
For how many are the clogs and impositions that are annu-
ally (I may say daily) wreathed about the neck of the church,
in these degenerate isles of the sea, Britain and Ireland.
And could anything be believed by an apostate generation,
we should think that his words should be of some weight,
who was no opponent, but a member of the Established
Church, yea and more, a seer in our Israel, and, we may say,
one among a thousand, “for as the man is, so is his strength.”



648
SC OTS XVORTHIES.







day that our Covenants were so ignominiously treat-
ed, unto this day, all calamities, as to our religious
concerns, have fallen upon us.
“ (5. The late sufferings of all who shed their
heart’s blood upon the fields, and scaffolds, impris—
omnents, and banislnnents, were all dyed with the
crimson blood of the Covenant; from that day of
the force and fury of enemies, these solemn vows
of our worthy forefathers, and the enemy taking
up Christ’s march-stones, which were the bounds
set by the hiost High, when he divided to the
church of Britain its inheritance, and separated the
sons of Adam, Deut. xxix. 8,—--the giddy church
straying in the wilderness is much fallen out of sight
either of pillar or cloud of fire. Our intermixtures
are turned pernicious to the glory and honour of
Christ’s house, which should not be a den of buyers
and sellers. Although the sufferings of our late
brethren seemed to be heavy to bear, yet two
prime truths were sealed with their blood,—-and
that of the best, as of our honourable nobles, faith-
ful ministers, gentry, burghers, and commons of all
sorts,—which were never before sealed, either by
the blood of our primitive martyrs, or our late mar-
tyrs in the dawning of our Reformation; and the
truths wcre,——“ Christ’s Headship in the Church in
despite of supremacy and bold Erastianism; and
our Covenants ;” which two truths were in the
mouths of all our ‘Vorthies, when mounting their
bloody theatres and scaffolds; ascending as it were
up unto God, in a perfumed cloud of transporting
joy, that they were honoured to suffer upon such
clear grounds: that supremacy was so aghasted
by our Covenants, that no rest could it have till it
got the gravestone laid upon them, and so conjured
all who tasted the liquor of that supremacy, that
the thoughts of getting the buried Covenants out of
the grave were more terrible to them than the
devils, who are now in the place of our vows to
God, managing their diabolical games in these
places where the Covenants were most in honour
and request, the one burned and the other rising
in its room. Much blood and treasure have been
spent to set the flourishing crown upon Christ’s
head in Scotland—Declarations, acts of councils
and parliament, remonstrances, engagements, vows,
and Covenants—but the sealing blood of the late
martyrs was the cope-stone of all. The primitive
martyrs sealed the prophetic office of Christ with
their heart’s blood; the reforming martyrs sealed
his priestly ofiice with their blood; but last of all
our martyrs have sealed his kingly office with their
best blood: they indeed have cemented it upon
his royal head ; so that to the end of the world it
shall not drop off again. Let us never dream of a
reviving spirit among us, till there be a reviving re—

spect to these solemn vows of God. If there were
but a little appearance of that spirit which actuated
our worthy forefathers in our public assemblies
and preachings, ye would see a wonderful altera~
tion in the face of affairs: the fields, I assure you,
would look white near to harvest. If you would
trace our defections, from the breach of the act of
classes in 1650, all along to this day of our being
bound in the grave of our neutrality, and all to edge
up the spirit of the people to a due sense of our
woful and irrevocable-like backsliding from God,
——who had acted many wonders for Scotland,—
you would find a perfumed smoke of incense spring-
ing from our altar in savoury and soul-refreshing
blessings. But, ah! when shall this day dawn
so long as the common enemies are gaining their
long-wished-for hopes, that ministers in their pub
lic preaching must confine themselves to their nick-
named faith and repentance, without noticing any
encroachments upon Christ’s proper rights to his
Church in the glorious work of Reformation, lest
constructed fire—brands and seditions, which, in
running the full career, may gradually drop into
superstition through neutrality, and thence plunge
into an abyss of the shadow of popery? But, to
sum up shortly all my present thoughts of the time
in this one, I cannot see an evasion for the Church,
in its present circumstance, from a sharp and more
trying furnace than ever it has yet met with—come
the trial from what quarter it will, it fears me. Our
principles are so slippery, and the truths of God so
superficially rooted in us, that when we are thrown
into the furnace, many of us shall melt to dross.
It is many years since I heard one of the greatest
seers in our nation, in horror, and with fear, dread-
ing the heavy judgments of God upon the biassed
professors in the west of Scotland. But all that 1
say, not diminishing my hopes of the Lord’s reserv-
ing his purchased inheritance in his own covenanted
land, though Malachi be afifrighted at the day of
his coming, and be made to cry out, “\Vho may
abide it, when he sits as a refiner and purifier of the
sons of Levi!” A remnant shall be left, that shall
be as the toil tree or the oak, whose seed is in them
when they cast their leaves; so the holy seed shall
be the substance thereof.
“To revive a reflection upon two stupendous
passages of Providence, I know would have an im-
bittering relish to many professors in our country-
side. The one is upon the last Indulgence wherein
professors, by bond and penalty, obliged themselves
to produce their ministers before their council,
when called. For this was a restriction so narrow,
that all the freedom and faithfulness of ministers in
their office was so blocked up, that either conscience
towards God in discharging of necessary duties be-

SIR ROBERT
HAMILTON. 64 9



hoved utterly to be buried, or else the life of their
minister exposed to sacrifice, and if this be not a
universal evil to be mourned over, let conscience
and reason judge; yet this is looked upon to be but
a snare, in these gloomy times, of inconsiderable
moment,‘ though it was laid by that supremacy,
which not only hath wounded our solemn vows
to death, but bound the fireedom and faithfulness of
the church-seers, as to the public interest of Christ,
in their graves.
“The other stupendous providence is the ob-
literating the rich blessings of the gospel’in our late
suffering times, when blessings not only accom~
panied those solemn field-meetings, but extraor-
dinary influences in gifts of freedom and faithful-
ness were poured down upon those ministers, who
went out with their lives in their hands, setting
their faces as flint against the heaven-daring vio-
lence done to the Mediator. I call to mind a
passage with perpetuated remembrance, that in
one shire of this kingdom there were about thirty
ministers who cheerfully offered up their services
to Christ, all by turns, out of Edinburgh. Allof
these, when they returned to the city,being questioned
what pleasure, what delight, and what liberty they
had in managing that hazardous task, answered:
——‘ That so soon as they set foot on these bounds,
another spirit came upon them; and no other
reason could they give for it, but that God
wrought so mightily, that they looked upon it as a
genius loci, that God sensibly at that time was in
that county working wonders; but the most part
of all these are in their places, resting on their beds
and their works follow them.’
“Thus, in answer to yours, I have given you
some of my confused thoughts of the present times,
wishing you God’s blessing in sucking honey out of
the eater.
“ Jon): Drcxsox.”
SIR ROBERT HADIILTON OF PRESTON.
THIS gentleman, son of Sir “falter Hamilton the
Reformer, was born about 1650, and lineally de-
scended from the famous Sir John Hamilton of
Preston, who was commissioner for East Lothian
at the black parliament held at Edinburgh, 1621,
where he boldly voted against the ratification of
the five articles of Perth.
Having received a liberal education—as is usual
for men in such circumstances—before Sir Robert
was twenty-six years of age, or thereby, the
Lord, in his fi‘ee and sovereign mercy, and by the
eflicacious working of the‘ ‘Holy Spirit, inclined his

heart to fall in love with his service; in conse-
quence of which he began to attend the fi~ee and
faithful—though persecuted—gospel, at that time
preached in the fields ; by which in a short time he
came to espouse the true covenanted testimony of
the church of Christ in Scotland, for which he was,
through divine providence, enabled to be a true and
faithful witness to the end of his life.
The first of his public appearances, we find, made
in defence of that noble cause in which he had
embarked, was in 1679, when, after consulting
with faithful Mr Cargill, he, with Mr Thomas
Douglas and godly Rathillet, drew up that Declar-
ation—afterwards called the Rutherglen Declara-
tion—which they published upon May 27, at the
market—cross of that burgh, after they had extin-
guished the bonfires ; that day being kept as a holy
anniversary-day for the restoration of Charles II.
After this he returned with that little handful to
Evandale, where he was by them appointed to
command in chief, June 1, at the skirmish of
Drumclog, where he showed much bravery in
putting Claverhouse and his bloody crew to flight,
killing about forty of them, Claverhouse himself
narrowly escaping. But the Erastian party, com-
ing up to that little army shortly after, created no
small disturbance among them and Hamilton their
general, the former being to them, “ a snare up-
on Mizpah, and a net spread upon Tabor.” Al-
though he most strenuously opposed them in all
their sinful courses of defection and compliance, yet
he was by them treacherously betrayed, in giving
his consent to their publishing the Hamilton Declar-
ation ; for they promising to be faithful, in all time
coming, in preaching against the Indulgence and
all the land’s defections ; and that what was ambig-
uous in that Declaration, should be, at the honest
party’s desire, explained; what was wrong should
be left out, and what was wanting should be sup-
plied, before it was printed or otherwise published,
save the reading of it that day ;—-one word of
which they never fiilfilled or kept.
It would be a task, however, too tedious, here to
enumerate all the struggles and contendings among
them at that time. Suffice it to remark, that it
was through Hamilton’s great—we may say deserved
—confidence in Mr Cargill’s faithfulness, who was
the principal minister among those called the pro-
test-ing party, that he was again by the corrupt
party so pitifully insnared in subscribing their De-
claration to the duke of Monmouth, when they
were about to engage with the enemy. For, being
intent upon supplicating, the honest party consent-
ed only that an information should be drawn up by
Messrs Cargill and Morton, and sent to the duke,
of his own and his father’s rebellion against God,


650
SCOTS WORTHIES.



by their blasphemy, persecution, and usurpation, in
church and state, &c. ; but the corrupt party draw-
ing up their own supplication, sent one of their num-
ber with it in the one hand, and pen and ink in the
other, forHamilton to subcribe, just as they were go-
ing to engage the enemy. Hamilton askedif it was
Mr Cargill’s work? he answered, Yes; although
Mr Cargill knew nothing of it. Upon which
being in haste, and having no doubt of Mr Car-
gill’s veracity therein, he did that which was still
matter of great grief to him afterwards, as he him-
self in a letter from Holland, dated 1685, doth fully
testify.
After their defeat at Bothwell-bridge, Hamilton
was, by the Erastian party and their accomplices,
most horridly stigmatized and reproached, as that he
should have betrayed them to the enemy, sold them
for money, and swept the priming off the cannon
at the bridge. But from all these he has been suf-
ficiently vindicated by ‘Vilson, in his Impartial Re-
lation of Bothwell-bridge.
Shortly after Bothwell, he went to Holland;
upon which his estate was forfeited, 1684, and he
himself sentenced to be executed, whenever appre-
hended, During his stay here, he was of great
use to his countrymen, and had the honour to be
employed by them as commissioner of the perse-
cuted true Presbyterian Church of Christ in Scot-
land, having received commission from them to
represent their case, and crave the sympathy of
foreign churches ; and it was by his skill, industry,
and faithfulness, in prosecuting this commission,
that he prevailed with the presbytery of Gronin-
gen, in 1683, to ordain the famous and faithful Mr
James Renwick, a minister of the gospel for the
persecuted true Presbyterian church of Christ in
Scotland; and afterwards, as their delegate, with
the presbytery of Embden, to ordain Mr Thomas
Linning a minister of the gospel for the same
church.
Hamilton, by virtue of his commission, which
about that time he had received from the united
societiesfi‘ went through several places of Germany,
in the end of 1686—-—for an old manuscript, given
under his own hand, dated March 10, 1687, bears,
that through many hazards and difiiculties he ar-
rived about Oct. 10, at Basil, in Switzerland ; from
thence he went to Geneva, about Nov. 16; and
so into Bern, Zurich, and other places in Batavia
and the Helvetian cantons, not without many im-
minent hazards and dangers. In these places he
conferred with the most part of their professors
and other learned men, craving their judgment and

sympathy toward his mother-church, and the poor
persecuted people in the kingdom of Scotland.9K
But having emerged from these difficulties, he
returned home at the Revolution, about which time
his brother, Sir WVilliam Hamilton of Preston,
died, and he fell heir to his estate and honours.
Although after that he was still designated by the
name of Sir Robert Hamilton of Preston ; yet, as he
could not acknowledge the legitimacy of the prince
and princess of Orange as king and queen of these
three covenanted nations, he never entered to, or
intermeddled with, the estate. On the contrary,
with Moses he made that noble choice, rather “ to
suffer affliction with the people of God than enjoy
the pleasures of sin for a season ;” and esteemed a
steadfast adherence to the cause of Christ, with all
the reproaches that followed thereon, greater riches
than all his brother’s estate. Out of true love to
Jesus Christ, his covenanted cause, interest, and
people, he laid his worldly honour in the dust, con-
tinuing still a companion in the faith, patience,
affliction, and tribulation, of that poor, mean, and
despised handful of the Lord’s witnesses in these
lands, who still owned and adhered to the state of
the Lord’s covenanted cause in Scotland.
A little after his return from Holland, when
l‘dessrs Linning, Shield, and Boyd, were drawing
and enticing those who had formerly been faithful
to, and owning and suffering for, the Lord’s cove-
nanted cause, into a conformity and compliance
with the defection of that time, in a general meet-
ing held at Douglas, 6th N ov., 1689, Hamilton
gave a faithful protestation against these proceed»
ings as by them carried on ; and particularly their
owning the existing government, while sworn to
prelacy, in opposition to our laudable Establishment
and covenanted work of Reformation. He also
protested against the raising of the Angus regiment,
which he took to be a sinful association with malig-
nants ; lastly against rejoining with Erastian minis-
ters at that time; without any evidence of repent-
ance for the many gross sins and defections they were
guilty of. After these three ministers had yielded
up that noble cause, and drawn many of their ad-
herents into the same state of compliance with them,
he had the honour to be the chief instrument in
the Lord’s hand, in gathering together out of their
dispersion such of the old sufferers as had escaped
these defections, and bringing them again into a
united party and general correspondence, upon the
former laudable and honest state of the testimony.
Farther, he had a principal hand in drawing up
and publishing that faithful Declaration, published
* In the hands of some friends are yet to be seen two of
these commissions in Latin, written on parchment, one of
which is a very beautiful copy on copperplate.
* See a more full account of his negotiations in the Neth~
erlands for the suffering remnant, in a letter of his, published
in Faithful Contendings, pp. 186—220.


SIR ROBERT HAMILTON .
65]


at Sanquhar, Aug. 10, 1692, for which he was ap-
prehended by some of the old persecuting soldiers,
at Earlstoun, upon Sept. 10th following, and by them
carried to Edinburgh, where, and elsewhere, he was
kept prisoner till hIay 5, 1693. I'Vhen he was
brought before the council, September 15, 1692,
there were present the viscount of Tarbet; president
Lothian; Ker; general Livingston; lord Linlith-
gow; lord Breadalbane; and Sir IVilliam Lockhart,
solicitor. He was by them examined concerning
that Declaration; but he declined them, and all
upon whom they depended, as competent judges,
because they were not qualified according to the
word of God, and our solemn Covenants. Being
interrogated if he would take the oath of alle-
giance, he answered, “ No! it being an unlimited
oath, not founded upon our covenants,”——If he
would own the authority of king lVilliam and queen
Mary? he answered, “I wish them well.” But
being asked again, if he would own them and their
government, live peaceably, and not rise against
them? He answered ; “ \V hen they are admitted
according to the laws of the crown, the acts of
parliament, 1638 and 1649, founded upon our sa-
cred Covenants and sound qualifications, according
to these, pursuing the ends of these Covenants,
then I shall give my answer.” IVhereupon some
of them turned hot, and Lothian said, They were
pursuing the ends of the Covenants; to whom he
replied, “How can that be, when joining with,
and exalting the greatest of its enemies, whom by
Covenant we are bound to extirpate ?” Another
answered, He had taken the coronation-oath. At
which Hamilton asked, “ \Vhat religion was estab—
lished when that oath was taken?” They said,
“ Prelacy was abolished.” But he returned,
“ Presbytery was not established; so that he is not
bound to us in religion, save to prelacy in Scot-
land.” Being urged to the last question, he ad—
hered to his former answers; at which some of
them raged, and said,—“ ‘Would he give no se-
curity for obedience and peaceable living?” To
this he made answer, saying, “ I marvel why such
questions are asked at me, who have lived so
retiredly hitherto, neither plotting with York,
France, or Monmouth, or any such, as the rumour
was ; nor doing anything contrary to the laws of the
nation enacted in the time of the purity of Presby—
tery.” Lothian said, “ \Ve are ashamed of you 1"
He replied, “ Better you be ashamed of me, than
I be ashamed of the laws of the church and nation,
whereof you seem to be ashamed.” Lothian said,
“ You desire to be involved in troubles.” Robert answered, “ I am not so lavish of either
life or liberty; but if the asserting of truth was an i
evidence thereof, it might be thought more strange.” i

He was however remanded to prison, where he
continued until the 3d of May, 1693, when he was
liberated. The day before his liberation, he gave
in a most faithful protestation and declinature to
the privy council and parliament of Scotland, with
another letter of the same nature to Sir James
Stuart, the advocate; and upon his coming from the
tolbooth, he was so far from yielding one jot, that
he left another faithful protestation in the hand of
the keepers, showing, that for his adhering to, and
appearing for the fundamental laws and laudable
constitution of our Church and covenanted na-
tion, he had been apprehended and kept for eight
months close prisoner, and that for his own ex-
oneration and the vindication of truth, he left
this protestation, disdaining all engagements to live
peaceably. In coming to any terms either respect-
ing oaths or bonds with those who had broken Co-
venants, overturned the Reformation, and destroy-
ed the people of God; or engaging in a sinful peace
with them, or any in confederacy with them, he
declared that he came out of prison merely because
of open doors; desiring his protestation to be in-
serted in the ordinary register.
From his liberation to the day of his death he
continued faithful in contending earnestly for “the
faith once delivered to the saints,” Jude, ver. 3;
and greatly strengthened and encouraged the rest
of the suffering remnant with whom he continued
in christian communion, both by his pious and god—
ly example, and seasonable counsel and advice, with
respect to principles, and what concerned the salva-
tion of their souls, the right carrying on of the testi-
mony for the cause that they were owning. Some
years before his death, he was sul'iject to a severe
malady, by which he endured a very sharp and sore
affliction, which he here with a great deal of chris-
tian patience and holy submission to the will of
God; and when drawing near his journey’s end, he
gave a most faithful testimony to the Lord‘s noble
and honourable cause, which he had so long de-
fended and for which he had so often suffered.ale
Thus after he had suffered many tribulations, and
at last endured severe bodily affliction, in all of
which he was still faithful in testifying for the word
of Christ’s patience, he yielded up his life to that
\Valker and others who have pretended a great regard
for the principles and memory of some ofour late sufferers, such
as Messrs Cameron, Cargill, and Renwick, were not aware
that this gentleman, and these \Vorthies, particularly the last,
were the very same in principle to the end of their lives, as
their own letters and testimonies evidence; and so in con-
demning him, they have not only tacitly condemned them,
but most avowedly relinquished the substantial part of the
covenanted testimony of the Church of Scotland in her purest
times; and what can the Archbishop of Canterbury require
more, never once to mention an anti-covenanter, a nullifidian,
or lukewarm presbyterian ?




652
SCOTS WORTHIES.






God who gave him his being, at Borrowstounness,
October 21, being then fifty-one years of age :—
“And because thou hast kept the word of my
patience, I will also keep thee from the hour of
temptation, which shall come upon all the world,
to try them that dwell upon the earth.”
Thus ended another of Christ’s faithful witnesses,
Sir Robert Hamilton, who, for soundness in the
faith, true piety, real exercise of godliness, a con-
versation becoming the gospel, and a true under-
standing of the right state of the Lord’s cause, in
every part thereof, accompanied with a true love
and affection, and zeal according to knowledge for
the same with steadfastness and stability to the last,
maintained his cause against every opposition. He
was equally superior to the influence of fear or flat-
tery, and to most of the same rank in that age.
\Vithout flattery it may be said, he was an honour
to the name of Hamilton, and to his nation. The
faithful Mr Renwick called him Mi pater, “my
father!” and had a high esteem and regard for him,
as the contents of most of his letters bear. In the
very last letter he wrote, he accosts him thus: “ If
I had lived, and been qualified for writing a book,
and if it had been dedicated to any, you would have
been the man; for I have loved you, and I have
peace before God in that ; and I bless his name that
ever I have been acquainted with you.” And in-
deed he was not mistaken in him; for he was one
who both professed and practised truth, was bold in
Christ’s cause, and had ventured life, wealth, and
reputation, in defence thereof. He truly said of him,
what was said of the emperor Marcus Antoninus,
In omni vita sui simil'is, nec ulla unquam in re muta-
tas fait. Itaquc vere fuit m'r bonus, nec fictum aut
simulatum quicquam habuit. [In every part of his
life he was consistent; in nothing evincin g the slight-
est tendency to fickleness ;—so that he was in real-
ity a good man, entirely free from falsehood and
dissimulation
TESTIMONY OF SIR Ronnn'r HAMILTON
or PnEs'roN.
“Though I have many things that might dis-
courage me from showing myself this way at such
a time, when the Lord’s controverted truths, his
covenanted reformation, and the wrestlings of his
faithful and slain witnesses, are things so much
flouted at, despised and buried, not only by the
profane, but alas! even by the ministers and pro-
fessors of this generation; yet I could not but leave
this short line to you, who of all interests in the
world have been my greatest comfort; being now
come to the utmost period of my time, and looking
in upon my eternal state, it cannot be readily ap-
prehended by rational men, that I should dare to



write anything, but according to what I expect
shortly to be judged; having had such a long time
to consider on my ways, under a sharp affliction.
As for my case, I bless God it is many years since
my interest in him was secured, and under all my
afflictions from all quarters, he hath been a present
help in time of my greatest need. I have been a
man of reproach, a man of contention; but praise
to him, it Was not for my own things, but for the
things of my Lord Jesus Christ. Whatever were
my infirmities, yet his glory, the rising and flourish-
ing of his kingdom, was still the mark I laboured
to shoot at: nor is it now my design to vindicate
myself fi~om the calumnies that have been cast upon
my name; for, when his slain witnesses shall be
vindicated, his own glory and buried truths raised
up, in that day he will assuredly take away the
reproaches of his servants, and will raise and
beautify the name of his living and dead witnesses.
Only this I must add, though that I cannot but
say, that reproaches have broken my heart, yet
with what I have met with before, and at the time
of Bothwell battle, and also since, I had often more
difficulty to carry humble under the glory of his
cross, than to bear the burden of it. O! peace
with God, and peace of conscience, is a sweet
feast!
“ Now, as to his public cause that he hath hon-
oured you in some measure to side with, stand fast
therein: let no man take your crown, for it is the
road he will take in coming to this poor land ; and
praise him for honouring such poor things as you
are, as to make you wish well to his cause, when
church and state and all ranks have turned their
back upon it: and my humble advice to you as a
dying brother is, to stand still and beware of all
tampering with these betrayers of the royal interest
and concerns of Christ’s kingdom, and listen to no
conferences with the ministers and professors of this
generation, till the public defections of this land,
from the doleful source of all our ruin and misery,
that sin of the public resolutions, the compliance
with prelacy, the church-ruining and dividing in-
dulgences and toleration, until the present sinful
cotu'se of vindicating all these defections, and bury-
ing all the testimonies against the same; I say
until these be acknowledged and publicly rejected
and disowned both by church and state.
“ I die a true protestant, and to my knowledge,
a reformed Presbyterian, in opposition to popery,
prelacy, and malignancy, and whatever is contrary
to truth, and the power of godliness, as well against
~ flattering pretenders to unwarrantable zeal on the
right hand, as against lukewarmness on the left;
adhering with my soul to the holy sweet Scriptures,
which have often comforted me in the house of my


WILLIAM
VEITCH. 653



pilgrimage, our Confession of Faith, our Catechisms,
the Directory for \Vorship, Covenants, National and
Solemn League and Covenant, acknowledgment of
sins, and engagement to duties, with the Causes
of God’s wrath, and to all the faithful public testi-
monies given against defections of old or late, par-
ticularly these contained in the informatory vindi-
cations, and that against the toleration, and the
last two declarations emitted since this fatal
. {evolution ; which testimonies I ever looked upon
as a door of hope of the Lord’s returning again
to these poor backsliding lands.
“ And now, my dear friends, let nothing dis-
courage you in that way. The Lord will maintain
his own cause and make it a way to triumph. The
nearer to day it may be the darker, but yet in the
evening time it shall be light; and the farther distant
ye keep fi~om all the courses and interests of this
generation, the greater will your peace and security
be. O! labour to be in Christ, for him, and like
him; be much in reading of the Holy Scriptures,
much in prayer and holy unity among yourselves.
Be zealous and tender in keeping up your private
fellowship for prayer and Christian conference, as
also yotn' public correspondences, and general meet-
ings, go to them and come from them as those in-
trusted, really concerned and weighted, with Christ’s
precious controverted truths in Scotland; and labour
still to take Christ along with you to all your meet-
ings, and to behave yourselves as under his holy
and all-seeing eye when at them, that ye may al—
ways return with a blessing from his rich hand.
“ Now, farewell, my dear Christian friends, the
Lord send us a joyful meeting at his own right hand,
after time ; which shall be the earnest desire, while
in time, of your dying friend,
(Signed) “R. HAMILTON.”
Borrewstounness, Sept. 5, 1701.
WILLIALI V EIT C H.
WILLIAM VEITCII was born at Roberton, near
Lanark, in 1640. lie was the youngest son of Mr
John Veitch, who was minister of that place for
about the space of forty-five years. His brothers
were John, who was minister of IVestruther fifty-
four years; James, who was ordained minister at
Mauchline, in 1656; and David, the most em-
inent of them all, who was some time minister at
Govan, contemporary and copresbyter with the
famous Mr Durham, to whom Mr Rutherford gave
this testimony at his trials, “ That the like of David
Veitch, in his age, for learning and piety, he had

never known.”
William, having taken his degrees at Glasgow in
1650, was resolved to follow the practice of physio,
as having so many brothers in the ministry, and
episcopacy being apparently to be settled in the
kingdom. Being then in the family of Sir Andrew
Kerr of Greenhead, Mr Livingston, minister of
Ancrum, frequenting that house with other godly
ministers, by many arguments dissuaded him from
his intended design, and exhorted him to follow the
footsteps of his brothers who were much esteemed
in the church.
In 1663, he went to l\Iurrayland, where he was
some time chaplain to Sir Hugh Campbell of
Calder’s family; but at the instigation of M‘Kenzie,
then bishop of Murray, he was obliged about
September, 1664, to leave this family. He then
returned home to his father who was residing at
Lanark, having been ejected from his own parish
by the prelates; at which time he became acquainted
with Marion Fairlie whom he married; and, being
a woman eminent for religion, she proved a great
blessing to him afterwards.
In 1666, he was solicited and prevailed upon by
Mr John Welch to join that party who were so
oppressed by the inhuman cruelties of Sir James
Turner and his forces, then lying at Dumfries.
Accordingly, after the Galloway troops had taken
Sir James, Veitch and Major Lermont went west
and joined them on a hill above Galston. Next
day they sent him with forty or fifty horse to take
up quarters in the town of Ayr.
After some respite, they marched up the water
of Ayr towards Douglas, and from thence to Lan-
ark, Dalziel and his army having come as far as
Strathaven in quest of them ; but hearing they were
at Lanark, he turned thither after them. In the
mean time, the honest party being above 1500
horse and foot, it was thought proper that both
the National and Solemn League and Covenant
should be by them renewed, which they did with
great solemnity; and, hearing that Dalziel ap-
proached, they concluded it would be best to
abide some time there—as the heavy rains had
made Clyde impassable except by boat—until the
water decreased, and that fifty of their number
might be able to stop his passage at the river,
which might be both a dash upon the enemy, and
encouraging to friends to join them at that place.
But unhappily a letter came at that juncture from
Sir James Stuart (Advocate after the Revolution),
to Messrs \Veleh and Semple, to come as near
Edinburgh as possible, where they would get men
and other necessaries. This made them break
their resolution, and march for Bathgate, where,
both night and snow coming on, they concluded to
go forward to Collington.



SCOTS WORTHIES.



Having taken up their quarters, they consulted
how they should do in answer to Mr Stuart’s let-
ter; and at last chose Veitch to go to Edinburgh,
and converse with him anent the promised supply.
This, against his own mind, at the importunity of
colonel ‘\Vallace, he undertook; and having dis-
guised himself with a baggage-horse, an old hat
and cloak, Mr M‘Cormick conveyed him a little
Way, minding him of several things to communi-
cate to Sir James Stuart. He had not pro—
ceeded far till he met a brisk young fellow riding
with a drawn sword in his hand, who asked “which
way he came?” He said, “Biggar way.” “ But,”
said he, “Did you not see all Collington on fire?
I fear my house be burnt; for I hear the Whigs
are come.” Veitch declared his ignorance of this ;
and so they parted. Near Greenhill park he met
three women, who told him if he went by Green-
hill house he was a dead man; for lord Kingston
was placed there with a party to intercept all the
Whigs coming to town. This made him take a
by-road to Libberton VVynd. A little farther he
espied a sentinel on horseback, which obliged him
to take Dalkeith way; but coming hither, some
colliers told him there was no getting to the town,
all the ports being shut, and guards set upon them.
This put him to a stand. Reason said “You must
turn back;” Credit cried, “You must go forward,
else lose your reputation.” In this manner he pro-
ceeded till taken by two sentinels and carried to
the Potterrow Port, where he was examined by
the captain of the guard; and, instead of being let
into the city, was sent with a file of musqueteers
back to lord Kingston. Veitch in this sad dilemma
had no other comfort but to pray to God that he
would direct him what to do or say, if he had a i
mind to spare him any longer. He was examined
by Kingston, to whom he gave soft answers. In
the mean time an alarm rose that the Whigs
approached—Kingston called them to arms—where—
upon Veitch said he would go against them in the
first rank. This made Kingston say he was a
brave fellow.
After the hurry was over, with great ditficulty
he got off into the town. But finding nothing
could be got there, and hearing next morning that
the Western forces marched toward Pentland-hills,
he ventured to return by Libberton toward the
House in the Moor ; and making his escape at Pent-
land town when passing through Roslin moor on his
way to Glencross water, the advanced guard of
Dalziel’s horse had almost taken him. But being
within cry of captain Paton, now lieutenant of the
rear guard of the Western army, who had beat back
Dalziel’s horse, and delivered him, he said, “O Sir,
we took you for a dead man, and repented sore we


sent you on such an um'easonable undertaking!"
As they rode towards Pentland-hills, they per-
ceived their friends leaving the highway, marching
their main body towards the hill, and a select body
to the top. General Dalziel’s coming from Currie
through the hills occasioned this. It was the 28th
of November 1666. It had been snow and frost the
night before ; but the day was pretty clear, and sun-
shine. In half an hour, Dalziel’s select party, under
Drummond, fell upon their select party, but was
beat back, to the great consternation of their army ;
hundreds of whom, as they were marching through
the hills, threw down their arms and ran. Drum-
mond himself afterwards acknowledged, that if they
had pursued this advantage they had utterly ruined
Dalziel’s army. M‘Leland of Barmaguhen and Mr
Crookshanks commanded the first party, who took
some prisoners; Major Lermont commanded the
second party, who beat the enemy again, where the
Duke of Hamilton narrowly escaped, by the Dean
of Hamilton’s laying his sword upon the Duke’s
back, which warded off the countryman’s blow.
Dalziel sending up a party to rescue him, Major
Lermont’s horse was shot under him; but he,
starting back to a dike, killed one of the four
pursuers, mounted his horse, and came off 1n spite
of the other three. The last encounter took place
at dawn of day when the Covenanters were broken ;
and Veitch falling in amongst a whole troop of the
enemy, they turned his horse in the dark, and
violently carried him along with them, not knowing
but he was one of their own. But they falling
down the hill in the pursuit, and he wearing up~
wards, the moon rising clear, for fear of being dis-
covered he was obliged to steer off; which they
perceiving, cried out and pursued, discharging
several shot at him: but their horses sinking, they
could not make the hill; and so he escaped
and came that night to a herd’s house in
Dunsyre common, not far from his own habita-
tion.
A little after this, he met with another remark-
able deliverance at the Laird of Auston’s, when the
enemy were there in pursuit of his son-in-law, Ma-
jor Lermont. After this Veitch, being obliged to
abscond, went off for Newcastle, where he con-
tinued some time. Here he took the name of
William Johnston, his mother being of that name.
After a considerable time of trouble, when he be-
came unwell through the fatigue and cold he had
got in winter, he went home to visit his wife, where
he again narrowly escaped, and therefore returned
to Newcastle. From thence he was invited to
London, where he preached sometimes for Mr
Blackie; particularly one Sabbath, on these words,
“If thou hadst known in this thy day,” &c. After the


WILLIALI VEITCH.
655


blessing was pronounced, some of the audience
cried “Treason, treason;” which surprised Blackie
and the people, till colonel Blood stood up and
said, “ Good people, we have heard nothing but ,
Reason, reason ;” and thus saved Veitch, which
ended the business.
Veitch travelled from place to place, sometimes
at London, sometimes Nottingham, Chester, Lan-
caster, sometimes in Northumberland, especially
in Reidsdale, till 1671, that he was persuaded to
bring his wife and family to that county, which he
did, and settled for some time within the parish of
Rothbury in N orthumberland. But no sooner was
he settled here, though in a moorish place, than
the Popish gang stirred up enemies to him on
account of his little meeting; which obliged him to
remove five miles farther up the country, to aplace
called Harnam-hall, where many out of curiosity
frequented his preaching. Anabaptists, likewise,
who kept seventh-day Sabbaths, were punctual
attenders.
Here he had no small success in reforming the
people’s morals; several instances of which, for
brevity’s sake, must here be omitted. But the
devil envying these small beginnings again stirred
him up enemies, particularly one Justice Lorrain,
who, at the instigation of the clergy, issued out
warrants to apprehend him. But this misgiving,
Lorrain, in one of his drinking fits, promised to go
in person next Sabbath and put an end to these
meetings. But not many hours after, he by an un-
lucky accident got his leg broke, so that he could
travel none for many weeks after.
Having continued there four years, he removed
to Stantonhall, where he found the country filled
with Papists, and the parish church occupied by
Thomas Bell, a violent persecutor. This Bell,
though he was his own countryman, and had re-
ceived many favours from Veitch’s brother, was
so maliciously set against him, that he vowed to
some professed Papists, who were stimulating him
011 against that meeting, that he would either ruin
Veitch, or he him. And, as the event proved, he
was no false prophet; for he never gave over till
he got one Major Oglethorp to apprehend him,
which he did, January 19, 1679.
After several vicissitudes he was brought to
Edinburgh, and on February 22 examined be-
fore a committee of the council, where bishop Sharp
was president. Anxious to insnare him the bishop
put a number of questions; one of which was,
‘ ‘Have you taken the covenant?” He answered, “This
Honourable Board may easily perceive I was not ,
capable of taking the covenant when you and other
ministers tendered it; at which the whole com-
pany gave a laugh. which somewhat nettled the

,_ .. _

bishops. They asked, “Did you never take it since?”
“ I judge myself obliged to covenant myself away
to God, and frequently to renew it.” Bishop Pa-
terson stood up and said, “You will get no good out
of this man; he is all evasion.” After other ques-
tions, he was required to subscribe his own con-
fession: this he assented to if without any addi-
tions, which at last through Lundy’s influence
they granted; and although they could prove
nothing criminal against him, he was remanded
to prison, and by a letter from the king turned
over to the criminal court, which was to meet March
18, but adjourned to two different terms after
till the month of July, that sentence of death
was to have been passed upon him upon the old
sentence in 1666. Veitch now finding sentence of
death was to be passed upon him, prevailed with
his friend Mr Gilbert Elliot to ride to London;
where, not having access to Lauderdale, he applied
to Shaftesbury, got his case printed, and a copy
given to each member of parliament. The king
being applied to and threatened with a parliamen-
tary inquiry, he was at length liberated under sen-
tence of banishment to England; whither he with-
drew in a short time after.
Whilst these affairs were transacting, bishop
Sharp was cut off at Magus-moor, the account of
which it is needless to relate here, being given
elsewhere. We may however mention a circum-
stance or two somewhat different from any which
we then stated, viz., that after they had fired several
pistols at him in the coach, when he was dragged
out Burley discharged a brazen blunderbuss, loaded
with several bullets, so near his breast, that his
gown, clothes, and shirt were burnt, and he fell
flat on his face. Thinking a window was made
through his body they went off; one however stay-
ing to tie his horse’s girth heard his daughter call to
the coachman for help, for her father was yet alive;
which made him call back the rest, knowing if he
was not dead, their case would be worse than ever.
Burley (or Balfour) coming to him while yet lying
on his face, putting his hat off with his foot, struck
him on the head till his brains were seen; when
with a cry he expired. Searching his pockets, they
found the king’s letter for executing more cruelties,
as also a small purse with two pistol bullets; a little
ball made up of all colours of silk, like an ordinary
plumb; a bit of parchment a finger~breadth in
length, with two long words written upon it which
none could read, though the characters were like
Hebrew or Chaldaic. This they took, but meddled
with neither money nor watch.
After two surgeons had examined his body by
order of the council, the blue marks of the bullets
were seen about his neck, back, and breast, where


656
SCOI‘S WORTHIES.




the clothes were burnt ; but in all these places the
skin was not broken; so that the wound in his head
alone had killed him ; which occasioned a universal
talk, that he had got proof against shot fi'om the
devil, and that the fore-mentioned purse contained
the charm. However, his brother got liberty to
erect a marble monument to him, which, instead i
of doing him honour, stands yet in St Andrews as
an ensign of his infamy to this day.
The rising at Bothwell immediately followed this.
But the Covenanters being then dispersed, an indem-
nity was granted to those concerned in it, one of
the conditions being that no ministers should preach
without liberty given. That no minister could
assent to. Monmouth, however, upon Shaftesbury‘s
recommendation, inserted Veitch’s name in the roll
with the rest ; but, by bishop Paterson’s influence
it was afterwards erased. This made Monmouth
say he should get the matter done another way
as soon as he came to London; which coming
to Lauderdale’s ears at court, through the influ-
ence of lord Stair the king signed a warrant com-
muting the sentence of death to banishment from i
Scotland. Being thus liberated, he returned to his
old habitation in England.
N ot long after his return, hearing that they in-
tended to apprehend him again, he retired west-
ward into the English borders, where he frequently
preached at Kilderhead, \Vheeler, Causeway, Dead-
water, and other places.
What wonderful success the preaching of the
gospel had by ministers retiring thither under the
persecuting period, to the repressing, yea almost
extinguishing the feuds, thefts, and robberies so
frequent about the borders, is worthy of serious
consideration.
Before his apprehension, he had preached with
much success at Bluecairn in Laudermoor, and
several places in the Merse and Teviotdale, espe-
cially at Pogo-moor, upon these words, Psalm cii. 13.
“ Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion,” &c.,
after which he had a very remarkable escape from
his enemies. After his return, upon an invitation
" fi‘om Mr Temple, he went to Berwick; but infor-
mation having been received that the earl of Argyle
had escaped from Edinburgh caused no small con-
fusion in that place. Having surmounted several
difficulties by means of his good friend’s acquain-
tance, he got safe to the house of Mr Ogle the
ejected minister of Berwick, six miles from that
place, who invited him to stay till Sabbath was over,
and perform an old promise of giving a sermon to
one Hall and his lady; to which he assented.
Upon going to bed after this confusion, he, being
weary, fell asleep, and dreamed that his house at
Stanton-hall, more than thirty miles distant, was

on fire ; which awoke him in no small consternation,
resolving to take his journey home; but it not be-
ing time to rise, he fell asleep and dreamed the same
thing over again, awaking all in a sweat. The
doubling of the dream he took for a clear call to go
home; and, telling the th'eam to Ogle, who called
it a fantasy, he excused himself the best way he
could to the laird and lady, to whom he was to
preach, and went off. About a mile and a half from
his own house, he met Torwoodlee’s servant, who
said, “ O Sir, you are long looked for at your house;
which made him ask what was the matter; and if
his family were all well. He answered, “ Yes; but
there is a stranger,——viz., Argyle ;——and your wife
longs to see you, and we have been for two days
sending about the country to find you.”
After meeting and some conversation, with his
wife’s consent he undertook to do his best for con-
veying the earl safe to London. Thus he took
Argyle, under the name of Mr Hope, along with
him to hIidburn Grange where he was to preach
that Sabbath; and on Monday to a friend’s house
between Newcastle and N ewburn, where he left
him and went to Newcastle, having bought three
horses for him at his own expense, the earl being
then scarce of money. ‘Without much exposure or
difficulty they arrived safe in London.
After staying some time in London, Argyle set
off to join Monmouth in Holland, and Veitch re-
turned to his house in Stanton-hall. But the mat-
ter transpiring he narrowly escaped being taken;
and, after concealing himself in various lurking~
places, he was obliged to go over secretly to I-lol-
land, where he met with several old friends and ac-
quaintances, Monmouth, Argyle, earl of Melvill.
Polwart, Torwoodlee, and James Stuart. Mon-
mouth and Argyle having agreed to make a descent
at one and the same time, the one on England and
the other on Scotland, several of their friends were
sent over, incognito, to warn their friends in both
kingdoms to make ready. It was Veitch’s part to
give N orthumberland and the Scots borders notice.
He had a verbal commission fi'om Argyle to pro-
cure money for purchasing arms, drums, colours,
horses, and raising men, especially Oliverian ofiicers;
some of all which he did; but the matter trans-
piring, he was obliged to hide himself near Beids-
dale-head, even from his friends ; where he narrow-
ly escaped being taken while covered only with
heather; colonel Struthers and Meldrum’s troops
being out in quest of him and others.
But this enterprise failing, Argyle being defeated
and taken in Scotland, and Monmouth in England,
the design came to nothing. Veitch, besides his time
and trouble,—where he was in many dangers,—
lost about £120 Sterling, with interest ; and though
Q
WILLIAM VEITCH.
657


Argyle’s son, the late duke, gave him repeated
promises to reimburse him, yet never was there
anything of the kind done, his kindness being soon
forgot.
Prior to this affair of Monmouth and Argyle,
one tyrant was cut off to make way for another;
but, as the death of king Charles II. is related by
so many historians, it would be out of place to
dilate upon it here.
After the defeat of Monmouth and Argyle,
Veitch was obliged to lurk for some time in a
wood near Newcastle, until the storm was a little
calmed; and then he ventured to that town to see
his wife and family, where he met with some
of _ his Scots relations—some other good people of
They spent a part of
the town were also there.
the night in prayer and mourning over the sad
state the church was then in, the most part
_ fearing they were never to see good days again.
After this, Veitch being wearied with such toil
and confinement, went with a Nottingham mer-
chant to Yorkshire, and staid some time in a town
called South-cave. From thence he was invited to
preach to the people of Beverley. Ilcre he met
with another remarkable deliverance ; for the mayor
and aldermen surrounding the house where he was
preaching, caused the clerk to write down all
their names; but Veitch, by means of his landlord,
got off under the name of WVilliam Robertson.
Thus he escaped and hid himself some time
among bushes, and then went to a house two miles
from town, where he preached out the rest of his
sermon to some people that followed that way, and
then went home with his landlord.
From thence Veitch returned to Yorkslm‘e, where
he met with another deliverance; for, a Scots J cs-
uit priest knowing him procured a warrant to ap-
prehend him ; but, by divine providence, he escap-
ed and went toward Newcastle, and from thence
to Nottingham. \Vhile there, king James’ in—
demnity and liberty were proclaimed ; and then he
had a call from the people of Beverley to be their
minister, which he complied with. At this place
he had a numerous congregation, and several times
he was invited to preach at Hull, six miles fi‘om
thence. There the people declared there never
was such a reformation in that place Some of
the justices of the peace there, being papists,
were greatly incensed against it, and used all
means to stop his preaching; but were opposed
by the people.
in his ministerial work, as he says, than in that
place.
Having preached six or seven months there, he
Veitch never had more satisfaction l


formation on the people, after which he was in-
vited to his native country by those who had ac-
cepted of the toleration then granted. His wife
being anxious for his return, he took leave of Bev-
erley, a pleasant city, having preached his farewell
sermon where there were many tears shed. In
his way home he visited his friends at Darntoun.
who persuaded him to stay some time, where he
settled a congregation, and left one Mr Long
as his successor to that people. After all im-
pediments were removed, he returned to his na-
tive land, where the people in the parishes of Ox-
ham, Creilland, Eckford, Linton, Morbattle, and
Harnam, gave him a call to preach to them at
lVhitton-hall; to which charge he entered in
April, 1688. Here he continued that summer, being
sometimes invited to preach at Reidsdale, on the
English side. But the prince of Orange having
landed in England, Nov. 4, 1688, the ministers of
Scotland who had been ejected thought it expe-
dient to meet at Edinburgh, and call all their
brethren to attend there, to hold a consultation.
It fell out unexpectedly to Veitch, that the
meeting voted him to preach next day in the new
meeting-house over against Libberton’s \Vynd.
This he was most averse to, being for the most part
a stranger to the transactions in Scotland for up-
ward of thirty years. But his reasons not being
attended to, he was so perplexed what to do, that
till eight o’clock he could not find a text; but at
length falling upon Psal. cxix. 118, —“ Thou hast
trodden down all them that err from thy statutes:
for their deceit is falsehood,” he was all night
in meditation without going to bed. When he
came to the pulpit, seeing sixteen of the old
ministers sitting, and the congregation greatly
increasing, his fear increased also. However, he
delivered his thoughts upon the subject, with re—
spect to existing circumstances, with such freedom
and plainness, as offended the prelates, who after-
wards sent him a message that ere long they re-
solved to be even with him. All the answer he re—
turned them was, “ to put on their spurs.” Upon
the other hand, he seemed to give offence to the
godly party, by some free expressions he used with
respect to the existing government, if Presbytery
was established.
lVhen the Presbyterian church was restored, he
had calls from several parishes, viz., one from Creil-
land, another from Melrose, and a third from
Peebles, which he was persuaded by the earl of
Crawford and others to embrace ; and yet he met
with such opposition there from the old duke
of Queensberry, that the church was so overawed
erected a meeting-house, and wrought a great re- l as to loose him from that charge. Having a call
40
658
SCOTS WOR'I HIES.





from Edinbmgh, one from Paisley, and another
from Dumfries, the Assembly, hearing his aversion
to Edinburgh, voted him to Dumfries after he had
been minister of Peebles full four years, from
September 1690 to 1694, when he was admitted
to his ministry at Dumfi‘ies.
He left Peebles with great aversion, not only
with respect to the parish but the country round
about; and, on a new call for restoration, lost it
by a majority of only four voices. He lost also all
his legal stipend during his four years’ incumbency,
which, with the expense of suit, amounted to
10,000 merks. Veitch’s hard usage from the As-
sembly, with their illegally removing him merely
to please the duke, and send him to Dumfries,
made him resolve to leave the nation, and refuse
to submit to their sentence. In the mean time his
old friends in England hearing this sent a gentle-
man to Peebles to bring him back. Veitch went
with him; but he refused to remain till he had
settled with the Commission of the Church,to whom
the matter was referred. Upon his return, they
persuaded him to submit; which at last he did, and
continued minister in that place until the day of
his death, which happened about the year 1720,
being then about eighty years of age.
From the foregoing account two things are con-
spicuous. First, that the whole of Veitch’s life, at
least during the persecuting period, was attended
with a train of remarkable occurrences of divine
providence. Secondly, that in that time he behoved
to be a most powerful and awakening preacher,
from the influence he had upon the manners and
morals of those who attended his sermons. Nor
is it any disparagement to him, that that foul-
mouthed calumniator, in his L‘Presbyterian Elo-
quence Displayed,” has published to the world,
“That he mtwdered the bodies as well as the souls
of two or three persons with one sermon, because,
says he, preaching in the town of J edburgh, he
said, There are two thousand of you here, but I am
sure eighty of you will not be saved,- upon which
three of his ignorant hearers despatched themselves
soon after.” Indeed, it must be granted that, after
the Revolution, in the latter end of his life he be-
came somewhat inimical and unfriendly to some of
the Dissenters. \Vhether this proceeded from the
dotage of old age, or from mistaken principles, we
cannot, and shall not at present determine.

JOHN BALFOUR OF KINLOCH.
JOHN BALFOUR of Kinloch, sometimes called
Burley, was a gentleman of Fife. He joined with
the more faithful part of our late sufferers; and al-

though he was by some reckoned none of the most
religious, yet he was always zealous and honest~
hearted, courageous in every enterprise, a brave
soldier, seldom any escaping that came into his
hands. He was the principal actor in killing that
arch-traitor to the Lord and his Christ, James
Sharp; after which his goods were inventoried by
the sheriff, his life and fortune forfeited, and a re-
ward of 10,000 merks offered for his apprehension.
He was a commanding ofiicer at Drumclog and
Bothwell; at Drumclog he was the first who with
his party got over the ditch upon the enemy. At
Bothwell he was still among the more faithful part,
and at the battle behaved himself with great gal-
lantry. At the meeting at Loudon-hill, May 5th,
1641, it is said that he disarmed one of the duke
of Hamilton’s men, taking from" his saddle a pair
of fine pistols belonging to the duke, telling him .to
say to his master, that he would keep them till he
met him. Afterwards when the duke asked his
man what he was like, he told him he was a little
man, squint-eyed, and of a very fierce aspect; the
duke said he knew who it was, and withal prayed
that he might never see his face, for if he should,
he was sure he would not live long. After this he
lurked mostly among his suffering brethren ; and, a
little before the Revolution, went over to Holland,
where he joined the prince of Orange, afterwards
king \Villiam; and having still a desire to be aven-
ged upon those who persecuted the Lord’s cause
and people in Scotland, it is said he obtained
liberty from the prince for that purpose, but died at
sea, before their arrival in Scotland, whereby that
design was never accomplished, and so the lane
was never purged by the blood of them who had
shed innocent blood, according to the law of the
Lord, “ ‘Vhoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall
his blood be shed.”
MEssRs ROBERT TRAIL.
MEssRs ROBERT TRAIL, the father and son, de-
serve a place among the Scots Worthies, as they
were brought to much trouble for their faithfulness
and zeal for our Reformation-principles. Robert
Trail—the father——one of the ministers of Edin-
burgh, along with Mr James Gutln'ie and others,
met in a private house there, and assisted in (h'aw-
ing up an humble address and supplication to the
king; but before it was finished, they were appre—
hended by the managers of the times, and commit-
ted prisoners to the castle of Edinburgh without a
hearing. Matters went so high at that time, that
a simple proposal of petitioning the king for a

‘M
ANDRENV SIMPSON—\VILLTA M SCOTT.
659


redress of grievances was reckoned criminal. In
August, 1661, Trail was brought before the lords
of Articles, and afterwards before the parliament,
where he delivered an excellent- speech* in his own
defence, and pointed out the cruelty and injus—
tice then exercised, and the many false accusations
that were exhibited against him and his reverend
brethren. After seven months’ imprisonment, he
wrote to Mr Thomas Wylie, minister at Kircud-
bright, saying :-—“I need not write to you how
matters do here. This I must say, your imprisoned
brethren are kindly dealt with by our kind Lord,

who heard them. His sermons on Heb. x. 20, 21,
22, 23, 24, entitled,—“ A steadfast Adherence to
the Profession of our Faith,” were published after
his death, at the request of many of his hearers.
The simplicity and evangelical strain of his works
have been savoury to many, and will ever be so,
while religion and scripture-doctrine are in
request.
ANDREW’ SIMPSON.
ANDREW Smrsov, minister at Dryburgh, was a
for whose cause and interest we suffer; and if any man who cared so little for worldly things, that
of us be straitened, it is not in him, for we have he scarce knew the current coin of the country;
large allowance from him could we take it.
know it fares the better with us, that you and
such as you,_mind us at the throne. We are
waiting from day to day to see what men will do
l
We 1 but was much taken up with his Bible and prayer.
lle was a free reprover of whatever he thought
sinful; and on that account. he was, by order of
the parliament, 1621, imprisoned in the castle of
with us; at best we are expecting banishment; but i Dumbarton, where the Lord blessed his preaching
our sentence must proceed from the Lord; and
whatsoever it shall be, it is good from Him; and
whithersoever he shall send us, he will be with
us, and shall let us know that the earth is His;
and the fulness thereof.” Such was the submissive
christian temper of these VVorthies. He was
afterwards banished and took refuge in Holland.
On the 19th of July, 1677, their persecuting
fury broke out against his son Robert. Being
accused of holding field conventicles, he was
brought before the council, where he acknow-
ledged that he had kept house conventicles. But
being asked if he had preached at field conventicles,
he referred that to proof, because the law made it
criminal. He owned that he had conversed with
Mr \Velch when on the English border, and that
he had been ordained to the ministry by Presby-
terian ministers in London, 1660. Refusing to
clear himself by oath, he was sent to the Bass;
and major Johnston got £1000 Scots for appre-
hending him. We have no account at what time
he was released, but he was afterwards a useful
minister to a congregation of Dissenters inLondon,
where he continued many years, and laboured with
great diligence, zeal, and success. Here he pub-
lished his Vindication of the Protestant Doctrine
of Justification, prompted thereto by his zeal for
that distinguished doctrine of the Reformation,
l
l
l
and prayer by the conversion from popery of the
lady of Sir John Stuart, the captain of the castle.
After a while he was liberated, and returned to
Dryburgh, where, and at Merton, he preached
till his death. Being a man of singular humility
and patience, it may be mentioned that, once when
walking alone, he fell and broke his leg. \Vhen
found, he was sitting holding his leg, devoutly
exclaiming, “Blessed be the Lord! O blessed be
name of the Lord!” and when asked why he
said so, he answered, “ \Ve ought to bless the Lord
for all that befalls us, and that I brake not my neck
instead of my leg.”
\VILLIAM SCOTT.
WILLIAM Scorr, minister at Cupar in Fife, was a
wise, learned, and prudent man. He understood
the laws and customs of the nation among the best
of his time. He was one of the eight ministers
called up by the king before the pretended Assem-
bly which brought in Episcopacy in 1610, and by
his prudence was very helpful to his brethren ; so
that their enemies got no advantage, and he ac—
quired both love and esteem by it. It is said that
the earl of Salisbury, having highly esteemed him,
offered him a considerable pension if he would stay
in England; but having got liberty to return
Perth Assembly, 1618.

——and his sermon On the Throne of Grace and home, he chose that rather than the earl's offer.
the Lord’s Prayer, at the earnest desire of those ‘ He died about the year 1642; leavingr behind him
* This excellent speech may be seen in Wodrow’s History, 3' Hlstol‘y of the Church from] the year 1610: till
vol. i. p. 73.
REVOLUTION SETTLEMENT, AND STATE OF CHURCH IN 18TH CENTURY.
The twenty-eight years of oppression and persecution by
those in power, and of witnessing for the truth of the Faithful
in Scotland. some of whose testimonies are given in the pre-
ceding pages. had now nearly closed. The state of matters in
the Church of Scotland began now to look more favourab'e.
Faithful to her Great Head and Master, she had for many years
re sistod the eneroachments made upon the supremacy of the
Lord Jesus over the Church, his spiritual kingdom—witnessing
even unto blood for the order. government. and discipline of
the house of God against the powers of this world. who are
ever striving to dethrone “ Him who, by his Father‘s appoint-
ment. is King over Zion, the hill of his holiness." King James
had for some time been acting a part in England which was
calculated to alarm the Protestants in both countries— his
object being to restore Popery as the national religion of both l
kingdoms. That he might better accomplish this, he endea-
voured to gain the favour of the Presbyterian party, by granting
them full liberty to worship in pri‘. ate houses, churches, or
chapels. Most of the Presbyterian Clergy accepted of this
toleration, aware at the same time that no reliance was to he
placed upon his sincerity. Ilis deep designing policy alarmed all
parties in the country, and a spirit of discontent soon spread
every where. Various communications were entered into with
Witrun. PRINCE or Ounce, who was married to Mary_ the
King’s eldest daughter. and was looked upon as the great
champion of the Protestantinterest in Europe. The nation,
feeling the bondage they were subjected to, with united voice
invited him to rescue their country from one who was evidently
intent upon destroying their liberties, both civil and religious.
The Prince readily complied with the invitation, and, on the



SCOTS WORTHIES.



5th of November 1688, to the joy of all, landed on our island.
King James fled, abandoned by his friends and followers, and
shortly after abdicated the throne; and on the llth of April
1689, William and Mary were proclaimed. And now the nation
of Scotland felt themselves free again, and the Church had rest.
Shortly after KING WILLIAM was seated on the throne, he
abolished Episcopacy, in Scotland, and restored Presbytery.
The ejected ministers were restored to their charges, and re-
turned to gatherthe remnants of their torn and scattered flocks.
In 1690 the General Assembly met, and the Church again had her
P031118!‘ Synods, Presbyteries, and Kirk sessions. The Confes-
sion of Faith was ratified, patronage was abolished, and every
step taken to restore order and purity. The Prelatic party still
entertained hopes of seeing their exiled King restored ; and in
1693, the Parliament enacted, that all parties who held olllce,
should take the oath of abjuration ; but the Presbyterian Minis-
ters refused to comply. The Commissionerappointed by the King
as his representative in the Assembly. came down to Edinburgh,
and finding the Ministers firm to their purpose, sent back a
messenger to London to receive instructions. The instruc—
tions were altered, and the conscientious Ministers relieved
from the necessity of taking the oaths. This was achieved by
the daring interposition of CARSTAIRS, who having inquired
into the nature of the King's instructions, and finding them
inimical to the Church, met the messenger when on the
point oflcaving the city. and demanded them from him. The
messenger having delivered them up, Carstairs hurried to the
King, who, by the time he reached the palace, had retired to rest.
Resolving not to be turned from his purpose, he demanded
admittance to the very bed-side of his sovereign. This
request having been granted, he entered, and finding,r the King
asleep, drew aside the curtain, which awoke the King.
Carstalrs stated what he had done, and represented the case of
the Presbyterian Ministers. The King threw the obnoxious
instructions into the fire, and drew up new dispatches dictated
by Carstairs. Accordingly the General Assembly met, having
her spiritual independence secured.
But the free and happy position in which the Church was ‘
placed by the Revolutionary Settlement, did not continue long.
In 1702. King William died, and was succeeded by the Princess
Anne, under whose reign the Union of Scotland and England
was effected in 1707. By this Treaty of Union, and by an Act
of Security which was also passed, the Church of Scotland was
placed beyond the interference of the British Parliament in her
government. discipline and doctrine ; and the national faith was
pledged to the maintenance of this solemn treaty. But a
Jacobite and popish party sought its overthrow; and in 1712, an
act for restoring patronage in the Church was by dishonourable
stealth passed in the British Parliament. For some time the
Church protested against this grievous yoke, and sought in every
way to get deliverance from it ; but gradually corruptions crept
in. “ The Marrow Controversy " brought out, in the face of the
General Assembly. a full testimony to the gospel especially, in re-
gard to the free salvation proclaimed therein to every sinncr. In
October 1732, Esmnzan ERSKINE, of Stirling, having preached
against the enforcement of the law of patronage and some other
Acts of the Assembly, was called to the bar and appointed to
be rebuked. Against this sentence he, along with Messrs.


standards of the Church, refused to submit to the censure.
The Assembly however, suspended them from their charges,
and remitted the case to the Commission. with instructions
to watch over their conduct. Shortly after, being called before
the Commission, they were asked if they had obeyed the
sentence; the four Brethren answered, That they had not. but
that they had continued to preach. A motion was upon tlHS
made, That sentence of deposition should be pa sscd, and carried
by the casting vote of the Moderator, and thus were four of her
most pious and devoted Ministers separated from the Church
of Scotland.
This was the origin of the first Secession. These Brethren
appealed in their protest to a free and reforming General
Assembly. and declared that they withdrew from the prevailing
party in the Church. Eflbrtsat reform were made with success
by the Evangelical section of the Church in 1734 to 1736. bill
this was the last of the “ Sincere Assemblies" of the eighteenth
century. The tide of Moderatism. checked and restrained by
the struggle for reformation during the years just named,
immediately thereafter gathered such force as to swccp all
before it, and the wrecks of that desolating flood are manifest
and abundant at the present hour. In the year 1742, a great
awakening took place in various parts of Scotland particu-
larly at Cambuslang and Kilsyth. It was felt throughout the
land. Many souls were converted and gathered in. But after
this blink of sunshine, the clouds darkened the sky. It was
now a very common thing for the various Church Courts to be
engaged in disputed settlements. Cases of intrusion then
began frequently to be perpetrated, the call of the people
disregarded, and military force called in to induct a minister to
a spiritual office. The disputed settlement of Invcrkelthing was
the cause of the deposition of the Rev. Taomiis GILLESPIE of
Carnock, and the rise of the Relief Secession. Among the many
cases of intrusion, there was one that became famous, that of
Nigg in Ross-shire. The people of that parish had long been
favoured by having a faithful watchman over them in the person
of Mr. John Balfour. At his death, a minister by name but not
by character, received a presentation to that parish. The
parishioners knowing that his walk and conversation were not
in accordance with the gospel, opposed the settlement, and the
majority of the Presbytery were equally adverse to it. The
day of ordination arrived; four of the Presbytery with reluc-
tance proceeded to the Church to perform the sci-vice They
found an empty Church; not one parishioner or member of the
congregation appeared. While perplexed as to what ought to
be done, one of the parishioners came in before them, anc-
solemnly charged them, “That the blood of the parish of Nigg
would be rpquired of them, if thcy should settle a man to the
‘um/Ls‘ of that Kirk.” The warning, though it overawed them
at the time, was in the end disregarded. A Minister was
“settled to the walls,” but the pious parishoncrs never again
cntcred or worshipped in that church to which their fathers
were wont to repair.
Such was the state of affairs that prevailed until that cvan
gelical party arose, that made their influence felt during the
early part of the nineteenth century, and whose efforts at
reformation, and attempts to bring back the church to the old
paths, led to that external and internal conflict which terminated
FISHER, Monomer. and WILSON, appealed, and, convinced that ‘ in the Disruption of the Church of Scotland; as detailed a‘,
he had done nothing inconsistent with the law of Christ or the
pages lxvl. to lxxit, and 723 to 748 of this volume.








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APPENDIX.
[IN order to render the Work as complete and interesting as possible, we have thought it might not be
unacceptable to lay before the Reader, in chronological order, by way of Appendix, copies of the
original Protestations and Declarations which are frequently referred to in the preceding Memoirs;
together with the Minutes of the Glasgow Assembly in 1638, connected with the Second Reformation,
and imbodying the principles which our Covenanting forefathers held to be the basis of a true
Presbyterian Church, as founded upon the word of God, in opposition to Erastian Prelacy, while
Charles I. and his profligate son (the most unprincipled monarch that ever swayed the British
sceptre,) were threatening to annihilate that beautiful fabric which Knox and his coadjutors
had reared after the demolition of Popery. To these we have added a succinct narrative of the
Battles at Pentland, Drumclog, Bothwell Bridge, and Airsmoss, where thousands of the Covenanters,
after being goaded to resistance by oppression, sealed their Testimony with their blood, when forced
to take up arms in defence of a religion which was dearer to them than their lives. Subsequent to
these we have given the Declarations emitted at Rutherglen, Glasgow, Qucensferry, Sanquhar, and
Lanark, during the hottest period of the persecution; the principles of which having been cherished
and maintained by the Evangelical party in the Church, and transmitted from sire to son, have at
length brought about the Third Reformation. The connexion between the struggle which ended
in the Disruption of 1843, and that which effected the Second Reformation has already been most

ably elucidated by the Rev. Dr. Buchanan in his Introductory Essay to this Work l

No. I.
Protestatz'on ofl'ered to the Estates convened in
Parliament at Perth, amzo, 1606.
“ The earnest desire of our hearts is to be faithful, and in
case we would have been silent and unfaithful at this time,
when the undermined estate of Christ’s kirk craveth a duty
at our hands, we should have locked up our hearts with
patience, and our mouths with taciturnity, rather than to
have impeached any with our admonition. But for that
which Christ commandeth, necessity urgeth, and duty wring-
eth out of us, to be faithful office-bearers in the kirk of God,
no man can justly blame us, providing we hold ourselves
within the bounds of that Christian moderation which fol-
loweth God, without injury done to any man, especially these
whom God hath lapped up within the skirts of his own hon-
ourable styles and names. calling them gods upon earth.
“ Now, therefore, my lords, convened in this present
parliament, under the most high and excellent Majesty of
our dread Sovereign, to your Honours is our exhortation, that
ye would endeavour, with all singleness of heart, love and
zeal, to advance the building of the house of God, reserving
always unto the Lord’s own hand, that glory which he will .
communicate neither with men nor angels, viz., to prescribe
from his holy mountain, a lively pattern, according to which
his own tabernacle should be formed. Remembering always,
that there is no absolute and undoubted authority in this
world, excepting the sovereign authority of Christ the King,
to whom it belongeth as properly to rule the kirk, according
to the good pleasure of his own will, as it helongeth to him
to save his kirk, by the merit of his ovm sufferings. All
other authority is so entrenched within the marches of divine
commandment, that the least overpassing of the bounds set
by God himself, bringeth men under the fearful expectation
of temporal and eternal judgments. For this cause, my lords,
let that authority of your meeting in this present parliament,
be like the ocean, which, as it is the greatest of all other waters,
so it containeth itself better within the coasts and limits
appointed by God, than any rivers of fresh running waters
have done.
“ Next, remember that God hath sent you to be nursing-
fathers to the kirk, craving of your hands, that ye would
maintain and advance by your authority, that kirk which the
Lord hath fashioned, by the uncounterfeited work of his own
new creation, as the prophet speaketh, He Lat/t made us, and
not we ourselz'es; not that ye should presume to fashion and ;


l
shape a new portraiture of a kirk, and a new form of divine
service, which God in his word hath not before allowed;
because, that were you to extend your authority farther than
the calling ye have of God doth permit, as namely, if ye
should (as God forbid) authorize the authority of bishops,
and their pre-eminence above their brethren, ye should bring
into the kirk of God the ordinance of man, and that thing
which the experience of preceding ages hath testified to be
the ground of great idleness, palpable ignorance, insufferable
pride, pitiless tyranny, and shameless ambition, in the kirk
of God; and, finally, to have been the ground of that Anti-
christian hierarchy, which mounted up on the steps of pre-
eminence of bishops, until that Man of Sin came forth, as the
ripe fruit of man’s wisdom, whom God shall consume with
the breath of his own mouth. Let the sword of (iocl pierce
that belly which brought forth such a monster; and let the
staff of God crush that egg which hath hatched such a cock-
atrice: and let not only that Roman Antichrist be thrown
down from the high bench of his usurped authority; but also
let all the steps, whereby he mounted up to that unlawful
pie-eminence, be cut down, and utterly abolished in this land.
“ Above all things, my lords, beware to strive against
God with an open and displayed banner, by building up
again the walls of Jericho, which the Lord hath not only cast
down, but hath also laid them under a horrible interdiction
and execration : so that the building of them again must needs
stand to greater charges to the builders, than the re-edify-
ing of Jericho to Hiel the Bethelite, in the days of Ahab.
For he had nothing but the interdiction of Joshua, and the
curse pronounced by him, to stay him from the building again
of Jericho; but the noblemen and States of this realm, have
the reverence of the oath of God, made by themselves, and
subscribed with their own hands, in the Confession of Faith,
called the King‘s Ma'esty’s, published oftener than once or
twice, subscribed by his most excellent Majesty, and by his
Highness, the Nobility, Estates, and whole subjects of this
realm, to hold them back from setting up the dominion of
bishops: because it is of verity. that they subscribed and
swore the said Confession, containing, not only the main-
tenance of the true doctrine, but also of the discipline pro-
fessed within the realm of Scotland
“Consider also, that this work cannot be set forward,
without the great slander of the gospel, defamation of many
preachers, and evident hurt and loss of the people's souls
committed to our charge. For the people are brought al-
most to the like case, as they were in Syria, Arabia, and



662
APPENDIX


Egypt, about the six hundredth year of our Lord, when the ‘
people were so shaken and brangled with contrary doctrines;
some affirming, and others denying the opinion of Eutychus,
that in the end they lost all assured persuasion of true re-
ligion ; and within a short time thereafter, did cast the gates
of their hearts open to the peril, to receive that vile and
blasphemous doctrine of Mahomet; even so the people in this
land are cast into such admiration, to hear the preachers,
who damned so openly this stately ple—eminence of bishops,
and then, within a few years after, accept the same dignity,
pomp, and superiority, in their own persons, which they be-
fore had damned in others, that the people know not what
way to incline, and in the end will become so doubtful, in
matters of religion and doctrine, that their hearts will be like
an open tavern, patent to every guest that chooses to come in.
“ We beseech your Honours to ponder this in the balance
of a godly and prudent mind, and suffer not the gospel to be
slandered by the behaviour of a few preachers, of whom we
are bold to aflirm, that, if they go forward in this defection.
not only abusing and appropriating the name of bishops to
themselves, which is common to all the pastors of God’s kirk ;
but also taking upon themselves such offices, that carry with
them the ordinary charge of governing the civil affairs of the
country, neglecting their flocks, and seeking to subordinate
their brethren to their jurisdiction; if any of them, we say,
be found to step forward in this cause of defection, they are
more worthy as rotten members to be cut off from the body
of Christ. than to have superiority and dominion over their
brethren within the kirk of God.
“ This pre-eminence of bishops is that Dagon which once
already fell before the ark of God in this land, and no band
of iron shall be able to hold him up again. This is that pat-
tern of that altar brought from Damascus, but not showed to
Moses in the mountain; and therefore it shall fare with it as
it did with that altar of Damascus; it came last into the
temple, and went first out. Likewise the institution of
Christ was anterior to this pre-eminence of bishops. and
shall consist and stand within the house of God, when this
new fashion of the altar shall go to the door.
“ Remember, my lords, that in times past your authority
was for Christ and not against him. Ye followed the light
of God, and strived not against it; and, like a child in the
mother’s hand, ye said to Christ, Draw us after thee. bod
forbid that ye should now leave off, and fall away from your
former reverence borne to Christ, in presuming to lead him
whom the Father hath appointed to be leader of you. And
far less to trail the holy ordinances of Christ by the cords of
your authority, at the heels of the ordinances of men.
“ And albeit your Honours have no such intention to do
anything which may impair the honour of Christ’s kingdom ;
yet remember, that spiritual darkness. flowing from a very
small beginning, doth so insinuate and thrust itself into the
house of God, as men can hardly discern by what secret
means the light was dimmed, and darkness creeping in, got
the upper hand; and in the end, at unawares, all was invol-
ved in a misty cloud of horrible apostasy.
“And lest any should think this our admonition out of
time, in so far it is statute and ordained already by his ma—
jesty, with advice of his estates in parliament, that all min-
isters, provided to prelacies, should have vote in parliament;
as likewise, the General Assembly (his majesty being pres-
ent thereat) hath found the same lawful and expedient, we
would humbly and earnestly beseech all such to consider,
“ F z'rst, That the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the oflice-
bearers and laws thereof, neither should nor can suffer any
derogation, addition, diminution, or alteration, beside the
prescript of his holy word. by any inventions or doings of
men, civil or ecclesiastical- And we are able, by the grace
of God, and will offer ourselves to prove that this bishopric
to be erected, is against the word of God, the ancient fathers,
and canons of the kirk, the modern most learned and godly
divines, the doctrine and constitution of the kirk of Scotland
since the First Reformation of religion within the same country,
the laws of the realm, ratifying the government of the kirk
by the general and provincial assemblies. presbyteries, and
sessions; also against the weal and honour of the king’s most
excellent majesty, the weal and honour of the realm, and
quietness thereof; the established estate and weal of the kirk,
in the doctrine, discipline. and patrimony thereof; the weal
and honour of your lordships, the most ancient estate of this
realm ; and finally, against the weal of all, and every one, the
good subjects thereof, in soul, body, and substance.

I"Newt, That the act of parliament, granting rote in par—
liament to ministers, is with a special provision, that nothin
thereby be derogatory or prejudicial to the present established
discipline of the kirk, and jurisdiction thereof, in General and
Synodical Assemblies, presbyteries. and sessions.
“ Thirdlg/ and lastly, The General Assembly, (his majesty
sitting, voting, and consenting therein,) fearing the corruption
of that ofiice, hath circumscribed and bounded the same with
a number of cautions; all which, together with such others
as shall be concluded upon by the Assembly, were thought
expedient to be inserted in the body of the act of parliament,
as most necessary and substantial parts of the same. And
the said Assembly hath not agreed to give thereunto the
name of bishops, for fear of importing the old corruption,
pomp, and tyranny of papal bishops. but ordained them to
be called commissioners for the kirk to vote in parliament.
And it is of verity, that according to these cautions. neither
have these men, now called bishops, entered to that office of
commissionary to vote in parliament; neither since their
ingyring have they behaved themselves therein. And there-
fore, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. who shall hold
the great court of parliament to judge both the quick and the
dead, at his glorious manifestation; and in name of his kirk
in general, so happily and well established within this realm,
and whereof the said realm hath reaped the comfortable peace
and unity, free from heresy, schism, and dissension, these
forty-six years by-past: also in name of our presbyteries,
from which we have our commission; and in our names,
office-bearers and pastors within the same. for discharging
of our necessary duty, and disburdening of our consciences
in particular. we except and protest against the said bishopric,
and bishops, and the erection or confirmation, or ratifica-
tion thereof, at this present parliament; most humbly cra-
ving that this our protestation may be admitted by your
Honours, and registered among the statutes and acts of the
same, in case (as God forbid) these bishoprics be erected
ratified. or confirmed therein. ”
The fiiregoz'rzg Protestation was subscribed by the
following 1V1 im'sters :—
Messrs Andrew Melvill, James Melvill, William Scott,
James Ross, John Carmichael, John Gillespie. William
Erskine. Colin Campbell, James Muir-head, John Mitchell,
John Davidson, John Colden, John Abernethy, James
Davidson, Adam Bannatyne, John Row, William Buchanan,
John Kennedy, John ()gilvie, John Scrimgeour, John Mal-
colm, James Burden. Isaac Blackfoord, Isaac Strachan,
James Row, William Row, Robert Mercer, Edmund Myles.
John French. Patrick Sim son. John Dykes, William
Young, William Cooper, Vlilliam Keith, Hugh Duncan,
James Mercer. Robert Colvill, William Hogg, Robert
\Vallace, David Barclay, John Weemes, William Cranston.
No. II.
The Five Articles of Perth.
Our Sovereign Lord with advice and consent of the
Estates of parliament, presently convened, ratifieth
the Acts of the General Assembly of the Kirk holden
at Perth, the ‘25th day of August the year of God
1618 years, and concluded the 27th of the same month,
Session Seczmda, whereof the tenor followeth :—
1. Seeing we are commanded by God himself, that when
we come to Worship him, we fall down and kneel before the
Lord our Maker, and considering withal, that there is no part
of Divine Worship more heavenly and spiritual, than is the
holy receiving of the blessed body and blood of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ: like as the most humble and reverent
gesture of the body, in our meditations, and lifting up of our
hearts, best becometh so Divine and sacred an Action. There-
fore notwithstanding that our Kirk hath used since the Re-
formation of Religion to celebrate the holy communion to the
people sitting, by reason of the great abuse of kneeling, used
in the Idolatrous Worship of the Sacrament of Papists: yet
now seeing all memory of by past Superstition is past, in
Reverence of God, and due regard of so Divine a Mysterie,
and in remembrance of so mystical an Union, we are made
partakers of, the Assembly thinketh good, that that blessed


APPENDIX.
663



Sacrament be celebrated hereafter meekly, and reverently,
upon their knees. . ' _ _
II. Item, if any good Christian, visited withlongslckness,
and known to the pastor, by reason of his present infirmity,
unable to resort to the Kirk for receiving of the holy Com-
munion ; or being sick shall declare to the pastor upon his con-
science, that he thinks his sickness to be deadly, and shall
earnestly desire to receive the same in his house, the minis-
ter shall not deny to him so great a comfort, lawful warning
being given to him the night before, and that there be three
or four of good Religion and Conversation, free of lawful ini-
pediments, present with the sick person to communicate with
him; who must also provide a convenient place 1n lllS house,
and all things necessarie for the Reverent administration there-
of, according to the order Prescribed in the Kirk.
III. Item, the Minister shall often admonish the people,
that they deferre not the Baptizing of infants, any longer than
the next Lord’s Day after the child be borne, unless upon a
great and reasonable cause, declared to the minister, and by
him approved. As also they shall warn them, that without
great cause, they procure not their Children to be Baptized
at home in their houses. But when great need shall compel
them to Baptize in private houses (in which case the minister
shall not refuse to do it, upon knowledge of the great need,
and being timely required thereto), the baptisme shall be min-
istered after the same form, as it should have been in the con-
gregation: and the Minister shall the next Lord’s day after
any such private Baptism, declare in the Kirk, that the infant
was so baptized and therefore ought to be received as one of
the true flock of Christ’s fold.
IV. Item, forasmuch as one of the most special means for
staying the increase of Popery, and settling of true Religion
in the hearts of the people, is that a special care be taken of
trial of young Children, their education, and how they are
catechized; which in time of the primitive Kirk was most
carefully attended, as being most profitable to cause young
children, in their tender years, drink in the knowledge of
God and his religion; but is now altogether neglected, in re-
spect of the great abuse and errours, which crept into the
Popish Kirk, by making thereof a sacrament of Confirmation.
Therefore that all superstitions built thereupon may be re—
scinded, and that the matter itself, being most necessarie for
the education of‘ the youth, may be reduced to the primitive
integritie, it is thought good, that the Minister in every Parish
shall catechize all young children of eight years of age and
see that they have knowledge, and be able to make rehearsal
of the Lord’s Prayer, the Belief and ten Commandments,
with answers to the questions of the small Catechism, used
in our Kirk; and that every Bishop in his Visitation shall
censure the Minister who shall be found remiss therein; and
the said Bishops shall cause the said children to be presented
before them, and bless them with prayer for encrease of their
knowledge and continuance of God’s heavenly graces with
every one of them.
V. As we abhorre the Superstitions Observation of Festi-
val days by the Papists, and detest all Licentious and profane
abuse thereof, by the common sort of professors; so we think
that the inestimable benefits, received from God by our Lord
Jesus C/zrz'st’s Birth, Passion, Resurrection, Ascension, and
sending down of the Holy Ghost, were commendably and
Godly remembered at certain peculiar dayes and times, by
the whole Kirk of the world, and may be also now. There-
fore the Assembly ordaineth, that every Minister shall upon
these dayes have the commemoration of the foresaid ines-
timable benefits, and make choise of several, and pertinent
texts of Scripture, and frame their doctrine and exhortation
thereto, and rebuke all superstitious observation, and licen-

tious profanation thereof.
_—
No. Ill.
Report of Proceedings of the General Assembly at
Glasgow, 1638.
The following extracts from the Minutes of the General
Assembly, held at Glasgow in 1638, will, it is believed, be ‘;
found a valuable Appendix to the Life of Henderson. Of I
that Assembly Henderson was Moderator, (see his Life p. ‘,
342,) and conducted the proceedings throughout the whole of that important meeting with admirable tact, coolness, and
1 thereof, in any tyme before the dissolving of this Assembly;
‘ Universities in manner foresaid, That quhereas his Majesties
I courage. The extraordinary events of which this Assembly
was the precursor, and which could not, in all their vastness,
have been foreseen even by its leaders, have rendered it me-
morable in the history of the Church ;—besides constituting
a new era, that of the “ Second Reformation.” While the
characteristic speeches of the several members, on the various
subjects under discussion, cannot fail to be perused with in-
terest, as well from their aim as from their terseness and in-
tensity, they must be allowed to convey to the mind of the
reader but a faint idea of the stir and excitement which ac-
companied the evolution of this solemn chapter in the history
of our civil and religious liberties.
N ot'ember, 2l , 1638.
The first day, the Commissioners from the King and Kirke
being conveined, after prayer be Mr John Bell, Moderatour,
agried upon till a moderatour was chosen, The King’s Com-
mission to the Marqueis was read, next the Commissions
from 66 severall presbitries wer given into the Clerkes some
of the former Assembly, together with the Commissions from
townes and colledges, and the names of the Commissioners
red.
Sess. 1.
After in calling vpon the name of God, The Kings Com-
missioner requyred that the Commissions might be examined
before a Moderatour should be chosen, least some men should
voit in chooseing a Moderatour, who wer not instructed with
a sutficient Commission.
To this it was answered by several of the members, “ that
a Moderator behoved first to be chosen ;” and several rea-
sons were advanced in favour of this mode of proceeding; to
which at last the Commissioner gave way: protesting, how-
ever, that his permission at this stage to proceed to the elec-
tion of a Moderator should in no way import an acknowledg-
ment of the voters. There was then given in
The Protestation of the Commissioners fra Presbz'tries, B urghes
and Universities, and of the Complaints against Prelats.
\Ve Commissioners of Presbitries, Ministers, and Elders,
Commissioners of Burghes, and Universities, in our own
name, and in the name of the whole Church of Scotland,
whom we represent, That whereas his Majesties Commis-
sioner protested that he gave way to the chooseing of ane
Moderatour, without acknowledging of the voits of any of
them to be lawfull members of this Assembly ; but that it be
lawfull to him or any other to say, at convenient tyme, why
they cannot be lawfull members;
We protest that this protestation made be my Lord Com-
missioner his Grace, be no wayes prejudiciall to the lawfull
commissions produced be Ministers, Elders, and Commis-
sioners of burghes and vniversities, quhilk shall be allowed unto
this Assembly, nor unto the freedome thereof, nor be any
ground of quarrelling this Assembly and the proceedings there-
of, in any time comeing; bet, on the contrare, seeing we offer
to heare all objections in a competent Assembly, at the dis-
cussing of the particular commissions.
\Ve protest that this Assembly, now fenced in the name
of the Sone of God, be esteemed and reputed a free Generall
Assembly in all tyme comeing, and that it shall be lawfull
to us to extend this our protestation, and insert the reasons
whereupon we tooke instruments.
Lykeas, \Ve Commissioners of Presbitries, Burghes, and
Commissioner, in name of the Arcbbishops and bishops of
this Kingdome, protested that no nominatione or election of
Moderatour, no allowance of any pretendit commission in
favours of any Members of this Assembly, nothing done or
to be done in this Assembly, past or to be past, shall prejudge
them in their voit, office, jurisdictione or dignitie belonging
to them, be whatsomever law or custome : We Protest
against this protesiation of his Majesties Commissioner made
in favours of the pretendit bishops and their pretendit privi-
ledges in this kingdome, untill they and their rights and privi-
ledges now complained upon be the most paiit of this King~



664
APPENDIX.



dome in their summonds, as usurpations, contrare to the word
of God, Confession of faith, doctrine and discipline of this
Kirke, to be tryed and allowed or disallowed in this Assem-
bly, and that the determination thereof therein, according to
the word of God and Confession of faith, be esteemed and
observed, and most just and lawfull ; and we protest in favours
of the liberties, priviledges, and discipline of this reformed
church, and freedome of this Assembly in all ecclesiasticall
matters, conforme to the Confession of faith and Covenant of
this Kingdome, renued with the Lord, and for libertie to ex-
tend this protestation, and the reasons thereof, before the
dissolving of the Assembly; quhereupon we tooke Instruments.
Lykeas, We Noblemen, barrones, Ministers, burgesses, and
Commouns, subscribers of the Covenant and persuers in the
Commoun Complaints and Summonds against bishops, Pro-
test that the Commissioner his Graces nomination of them,
the Lords of the Clergie, and protestation in favours of their
calling, voits, dignitie, priviledges, be no wayes prejudiciall
to the Covenant subscryved be us, to the policie of the Kirke,
nor to our Summonds and Complaints against these our pre-
tendit dignities, titles, and callinges, as contrare to the Con-
fession of faith and word of God, nor to the freedome of this
Assembly in their trying and discussing of our said Com-
plaints; and we protest for libertie to extend this protesta-
tion; whereupon we take acts and Instruments.
Lykeas, We Commissioners for Presbitries, burghes, and
Universities, That whereas his Maj esties Commissioner having
craved ane paper, presented be Doctor Hamilton in name of
the Bishops, to be red publictlie, being refuised, did protest
and take Instruments, We protest that before ane Assembly
was constitut, and the Moderatour chosen. we would heare
no supplications, billes, nor protestationes, but after the con-
stitutione of the Assembly we should heare the same and
give them an answer, and protested that they might be there
personallie present for to answer to the Summonds and Com-
plaints against them, with libertie to adde thereupon and tooke
Instruments.
Lykeas, quhensoever his Majesties Commissioner protested
against our protestations, both the Commissioners from
burghes and universities on the ane pairt, and the persewars
and the Complainers on this, have renued their protestation
against the Commissioners protestations: \V e Commissioners
from Presbitries, Burghes, and Universities, That quhereas
his Majesties Commissioner produced his Majesties Letter to
Six Noblemen for to be his Assessours, and accordinglie de-
sired that the foresaid assessours should have voit according
to his Majesties Letter, and protested upon the present re-
fusall of it before the election of a Moderatour, we protested,
that seeing his Grace was his Maj esties sole Commissioner, that
none should have voit but the Commissioners from Presbitries,
Burghes, and Universities, for thir reasons, quhilks we are
readie to shaw, for thir reasons to the Assembly being constitut
after the election of a Moderatour, and protested for libertie
to extend their owne protestation, and insert the reasons
thereof any tyme before the dissolution of this Assembly:
quhereupon we tooke Instruments, and thereafter gave in the
reasons following.
Concerning the voiting of his Majesties Assessours in
the General Assembly.
With that respect which we ought to his Majesties Com-
mission, and to the persons and places of the pryme Noble-
men and Counsellors, his Grace his Assessours, for the pre-
servation of the libertie of the Kirke of Jesus Christ, in this
his Majesties Kingdome of Scotland, we the Commissioners
from particular Presbitries, Universities, and burghes, here
solemnlie assembled, in all humilitie, doe remonstrat that his
Majesties Commissioner and Assessours can have but ane
voit, in all matters treated and reasoned in the Assembly,
for the reasons following:
1. Becaus the Generall Assemblies, in the matter of it, is
ane ecclesiasticall meeting of persons ecclesiasticall, Ministers
and Elders, representing the whole particular persons and
presbitries quhilk collectivelie cannot convenienthe or pos-
siblie conveine, and the Christian Magistrat doth not so much
multiply voits for himselfe, as by his power, auctor'itie, and
command, and provyde that every particular Commissioners
voit be asked and heard in order and quyetnes, that thereby the
judgment of the Assembly, in everie poynt presented to their
consideration may be knowne.
in the Assembly in his Majesties place.


3. It is not to be supposed that his Majesties Commissioner
should have moe voits in his Majesties personall absence, then
, if he were in sacred persone present, since, jrrre rr'presewm
1 tiovzz's, they are all but ane, and ought to voit as ane.
4. This might prove contrare to his Majesties graceous in-
tention, very prejudiciall to the libertie of the lxlrke, there
being no determination of the number of voits, for thus his
Majesties affirmative voice might be turned in a negative;
neither doth this Kirke want experience of this great danger.
.5. As assessours sent from particular presbitries for assist-
ing, thir Commissioners have no place to voit, so it is to be
supposed that these assessours, appointed to attend his
Majesties Commissioner, are only to give their advice and
assistance unto his Grace in the great affaires of the Assem-
bly, that all matters may be orderlie and peaceablie disposed
('5. Although we doe not pry narrowlie into his Majesties
Commission, yet since we perceave it is granted to the Mar-
queis of Hamiltoun as his Majesties sole Commissioner, we
cannot admitt that any be equall to his Grace in voiting in
the Assembly.
7. As the Ecclesiasticall Moderatour, be the Acts and
practise of this Kirke, hath some Members of the Assembly
joyned to him to be assessours, who yet thereby have no
further power granted to them than they had before be
their Commission, so it is with preses politz'ous.
And whereas, his Majesties Commissioner protested that
the bishops who were authorised be Acts of Parliament were
called pretendit bishops, the complainers against bishops pro~
tested that such they were and such they should be esteemed
and called, conforme to the summonds ; and the commission-
ers from presbitries, burghes, and universities, protested,
that they should be so called till the complaints against them
for the samen should be discussed, with libertie to adde;
whereupon they tooke instruments.
The Moderatour for the tyme having declaired that the
constitution of a Moderatour must he the first act, and goe
before the act of examination of the Commissions, he puts
upon the leitts Mr John Ker, Mr John Row, Mr James
Bonar, Mr William Livingston, and Mr Alexander Hender-
sone: the leitts being approven, and Mr Alexander Hen-
dersone was chosen Moderatour be the voits of all the voits
not ane contrare except his oune.
Sess. ‘2.—Z\70rember, 2‘3.
After in calling upon the name of God,
'1 he Moderatour craved that a list might be given for
chuseing of a Clerk.
The Commissioner asked why a clerk should be elected,
seeing there was a clerk there present, and what could
be said against him why he should not execut the office in
his fathers lifetyme P
The Moderatour answered—Please your Grace, the clerks
sone could not be called the clerk.
The Commissioner required that the young man might
have libertie to speake for himselfe, who, being permitted to
speak, alledgit that his father was provydit to the ofiice by
the dimission of Mr Thomas Nicolsone, and hath served in
the office after his dimission, and hath keeped the Registers,
and hath given out extracts of the Acts and conclusions oi
the Assembly ; and now being infirme and sicke, and not able
to serve at the tyme, has surrogat me his some in his place.
The Moderatour answered—Albeit Mr Thomas Nicoisone
had the office and had demitted to his father, yet was not
his Father elected by the Assembly; albeit, he had now
possessed the office by the space of ‘20 yeares, yet I see not
how the office can goe by deputation.
The young man answered—That beside the o'fiice of Mr
Thomas Nicolsone, his father had the office by election in
anno 1616
The Moderatour answered—That he was not chosen by the
voits of a free Assembly; and whether it was so or not. it
matters not now, seeing he was become old, infirm, and sicke,
and so unable to attend frequent Assemblies, which now we
expect be the mercie of God, and with his Majesties favour
and allowance ; yet if there be any question in the matter,
I shall ask the voits of the brether; but in my judgment,
Edinburgh being the centure of the Kingdome, quhereunto
f all subjects have greatest resort, it is expedient, yea necessar
2. \Ve have had 39 Assemblies of this Kirke, without the _
presence of the Kings Majestic or any Commissioner sitting ‘
’, tion, becaus his employment was but small.
and good, that the clerk should reside att Edinburgh. I
grant the Clerk received no detriment be his fathers func-



APPENDIX.
665


The Earle of Rothes answered—Albeit his father had un-
doubted right to the oflice, yet the office is not transmissible :
whereupon the young man remitted his interest in the office
to the consideration of the Assembly.
The Commissioner answered—By what power the young
man could demitt his {fathers right?
The young man answered—That he did not demitt his
Fathers office, but onlie submitted his interest in it to the
Assembly.
The Commissioner said—That he did not call in question
the power of the Assembly concerning the election of a Clerk,
but he desired to know how Mr Thomas Nicolsone having
demitted his right in favours of the young man his father,
and how his Father having enjoyed the office to this day,
how ane other clerk should be elected, he being yet alive P
My Lord Lowdoun answered—That his father being ab-
sent, old, and sicke, could not now supplie the place, and
that the Assembly, now conveened, behooved to see to it, and
surrogat ane other in his place—a man of skill and judge-
ment—seeing he was cz'oilz'ter mortuus—unable to come
hither; et I speake not this to prejudge his sones benefice,
for the Assembly may consider of it ; but if he hes a power
from his father, he may suhmitt that to the judgement of the
Assembly, and the Assembly may choose ane other without
doing wrong to the young man.
The Commissioner answered—If, by reason of Gods hand
on the man, they would yet macke him further to be a
suli'erer and a loaser, seeing he hath done the pairt of ane
honest man, and his gift of office here doeth bear deputation,
why will ye not suffer him to depute his sone in his place as
others have done before? For albeit he be old, infirme, and
sicke, that may not take away his place, if sicknes be on him
by Gods hand, and againe throw time he shall be frustrat of
the meanes to mentaine his life in his old age.
Lord Lowdoun answered—It is charitablie and justlie
pleaded, and I think he should not be prejudgit the meanes
of his life in his old age ; but seeing there are here two pre-
judices in hand—ane to the Generall Assembly and other
personall to the man—the lateis prejudice must yield to the
former, and the Assembly must be served, and the man in
his age and sicknesse supplied ane other way. As for de-
putation ane other in his place, we know he hes no power of it.
My Lord Rothes said—That the strength of his fathers
right to the office was not from Mr Thomas Nicolsones ad-
mission, but of that which the Assembly gave unto him;
and what right the young man craved by deputation, he hath
now put it in the hands of the Assembly.
The Moderatour asked—If the clerks place was not vacant
for the tyme, and if it be not vacant, how shall the Assembly
he provydit for a clerk for the tyme ?
My Lord Rothes said—The Assembly calls for a clerk,
and his father compeirs not; how is it furnished P
My Lord Lowdoun answered—Let the young man who
craves the right adhere to it, and let it be decydit by the
Assembly, or els submitted to the Assembly, or els choose
your oune Clerk.
Whereupon the young man submitted himselfe to the
Assembly.
The Moderatour craved that a lite might be given in for
chooseing of a Clerk, and so a lite of four was given in : Mr’
Thomas Sandilands, sone to the clerk, Alexander Blair,
John Nicoll, and Mr Archbald J ohnstone; and it was re—
quyred that these men that shall be elected shall be obliged
to reside at Edinburgh. '
The Moderatour asked the Commissioner which of these
four his Grace would voit into ?
The Commissioner answered—That he knew not any of
them, neither would he voit to any of them, becaus he had
not as yet scene a lawfull dimission of the present Clerk.
The Moderatour replyed—Then your Grace will be a non
li net.
qThe Commissioner answered—I desire that the voits of
the Assessours nominat by his Majestie might be asked in
a nomination of a. Clerk.
The Moderatour said— Seeing your Graces assessours get
no voit in chooseing a liloderatour, being a superiour office,
it was not fitt to trouble them with asking their voit anent
the election of 21 Clerk, being an inferiour ofiice.
The Commissioner craved that the protestation made
yesterday might be read over againe the day, anent the Kings
power in appointing of assessours ; which protest ation beingred,
The Commissioner craved that my Lord Argyle, Tra-

l
quair, Southesk, Lauderdaill, might voit according to his
Majesties command, given in severall letters ; which Letters
being sein and red,
Traquair craved that these assessours appoynted be his
Majestie might have voit, as the custome was in King James,
of worthie memorie, his tyme; and declaired, according to
his Majesties command, he was readie to assist and give his
voit.
The Moderatour answered—That it was not want of due
respect to their Lordships that moved them to refuise our
Lordships voits in this, but onlie to mentaine the Kings
libertie—quherfor your Lordship had als good reason to be
als zealous as any in the house.
Traquair replyed—The imployment of this particular was
of such small moment, that except it were in obedience to
his Ma'esties command, he would never claim it. As to
the Kir 's liberties, that they should be preserved; yet why
should any in the Kirk debarr the Kings Majestie from that
libertie which to this day he never wanted in any Assembly?
If the kings Majestie be standing in a particular possession
of assessours to treat, reason, and voit, how should his Majes-
tie be dispossessed now P
The Moderatour answered—That they should either con~
discend to that his Lordship craved, or else satisiiie him in
reason ; and said, he would not deny but his Majestie had, in
sundrie late Assemblies, moe assessours then his one Com-
missioner, and yet there were also many Assemblies that
neither King, Commissioner, nor assessours were present:
which late Assemblies he wished this present Assembly
had no reason to put them ‘to the tryall,
Traquair asked—If, becaus the King is not present now,
as he was not present in ane other Assembly, if they would
exclude him and these nominat be him to voit in this As—
sembly P
Moderatour answered—There was no intention to exclude
his Majestie, but rather wished his Majestie were present to
be ane eye witnesse to all thir proceedings, and that he hoped
for great favour from his Majestie if he were present, and
that full satisfaction should be given to his Majestie, by Gods
grace, to everie thing.
Sir Lues Stewart said-Seeing it hath beene in use that
his Majestie hath appoynted assessours, Commissioners, and
all perteining to the Generall Assembly, why not now also?
Lowdoun answered—There were sufiicient reasons wh it
should not be so, and these reasons were put in the handy of
the Moderatour to be red.
Thir reasons being red, why the King only should have
ane voit,
Traquair said—Not out of any affection of imployment,
but of love to the obedience of so gracious a prince, doe I
take upon me to answer these reasons; neither yet am I of
such sharpness, capacitie, and quickness of witt, to make
answer to everie ane of these particular reasons; yet seeing
we are tryed to make answer, we crave ane copie thereof
that we may give our answer thereto, and desire that this
matter of election of a Clerk may not be put to the voit till
our reasons he heard.
The Moderatour said—It is good reason to be so, and all
of us hes alse good reason to be zealous of the Kings honour,
authoritie, and priviledge, as any, yet his lordship had alse
good reason to see to the Kirkes weill and libertie—the
Mother of us all ; and when we perceave that the Kings
Majestie, or any in his name, would urge that which may
encroach upon the liberties of the Kirke, they would labour
to satisfie them in reason.
Traquair said—If I knew any thing would conduce more
to the preservation and priviledge of the Kirkes liberties,
then that his lilajesties wonted authoritie should continue in
the former vigour, I would condiscend unto it.
The Commissioner said—I render my protestation, made
in the name of my assessours appoynted be his Majestie.
My Lord Rothes said—And we also adhere to the pro-
testation made he us.
Traquair craved that his assessours might eik to his Graces
protestation, which was granted.
Then the Voits of the whole Assembly wer craved anent
the election of a Clerk ad 'uz'tam, and Mr Archbald Johnston
was chosen and admitted unto all the rights, fies, and privi-
ledges, perteining to ane Clerk of before, to be extractit at
large; who, after the acknowledgement of the weiwhtiness of
the charge, and his insufliciencie for it, embraced it as having
a calling from God, and the honourable Assembly.
4P
666
APPENDIX.






The Moderatour desired to be informed if any more was
requisite for his admission but a solemne oath of his fidelitie
and diligence P
Mr John Row answered-—Nothing further, but that he
should bring foorth, keepe, and preserve the Registers of the
Church ; at least so many as shall come in his hands, seeing
pitifull experience could show how these Registers had been
marred in former tymes.
Then Mr Archbald gave ane solemne oath of his fidelitie
and diligence, and conscious keeping, and use making of all
Registers and documents, was taken of his acceptance and
admission.
The Moderatour said—The Bookes and Acts of all former
lAssgmblies should be produced, and put in Mr Archbalds
an s.
Mr Thomas Sandilands answered—That he had receaved no
Registers from his father, but only two books, conteining
some acts from the yeare 1590, till the Assemblie at Aber-
dein, holden 16l 6, which therein is only begunne with the
Minuts of the Acts of the said Assembly of Aberdein, in a
paper—apairt with the Minuts of St Androwes following 1617,
with the acts of the Assembly at Perth, subscribed be Mr
James Sandilands, and delivered the samen to the Assembly:
And, being posed for the rest of the registers, answered, in
his fathers name, that he had gotten these two from the
Bishop of St Androwes, and had never receaved any moe,
neither from him, nor from the Assembly, nor from any
uther.
The Moderatour craved that all the Registers might be had
and brought foorth from the hand of any Clerk or haver of
them, affirming that these bookes had in them matters of
greater weight then all uther evidents of land ; for they wer
the Kirke of Scotlands MAGNA CARTA, contayning all her
priviledges since the Reformation. He wished also that this
Assembly should not be deprived of so powerfull a meane of
information for proceeding in matters to be handled there.
The former Clerks sone affirmed that he had destroyed
none of these bookes.
The Moderatour urged the production of these bookes, and
desired the Commissioner to take course for it.
The Commissioner answered—That he was willing to use
any good meane that could be used for production of these
bookes, if any could show in whose bands they were; for
(said he) I desire not that any register should be absent, but,
above all, the Kirkes Registers.
My Lord Rothes said—That, by a warrant from King
James, the bookes wer taken from Mr Thomas N icolsone
and the last Clerk, and put in the hands of the pretendit
bishop of St Androwes, and so of neid, force and course must
be taken for getting of these bookes from the Bishop.
Mr Archbald Johnston said—That, by Gods providence,
als many bookes were come in his hands, as should be able
to make up a perfite register of the whole affaires of the
Kirke, from the Reformation until this day, which Bookes
he produced on the table, and declared by whom and what
meanes they wer come to his hands-To witt, Mr Robert
Winrahame, Depute-clerk under Mr Thomas N icolsone, and
from him to Alexander Blair; of quhich bookes there are fyve
volumes in folio. But Mr Patrick Adamsone, Bishop of St
Androwes, rent ane of them, and yet there are four to the
foir of them, written be Mr James Richie and Mr Thomas
N icolsone, quhereof the first two containes the acts of A ssem-
bly from the year 1560 to 1572, subscribed by John Gray,
Clerk to the Assembly; and the third volume, fra 1586, till
i590, written and subscrived in the margine be Mr James
Richie, Clerk to the said Assembly—the first Booke being
ane great volume of the Acts of the Assembly, fra the year
1560 to 1590, (whereof he had but ane len from ane minis-
ter,) whereof, the first four volumes the said Mr Archbald
declared he had receaved them from Alexander Blair, wreater,
who was servant, and succedit in the place of modifications
of Stipends to Mr Robert Winrahame, who had a deputation
from Mr Thomas N icolsone, Clerk to the Generall As—
sembly.
The Moderatour said—These are good and comfortable
newis unto the Church of Scotland— that a perfect Register
of the Acts of the Assemblies are yet to the foir, and that it
was neidfull that course be taken for tryell of these bookes,
whether they be these same bookes written be the Clerks, or
be their deputs, or Copies only of these bookes.
It was answered be the Clerk, That they are the same,
written and subscryved be the Clerkis oune hand, and the

leaves riven out of ane of them be the bishop from the 22 to
the 27 leafe, may yet be knowen be the marked number of
the leafes. The first Clerk, Mr John Gray, who subscribed
everie Assembly with his hand. The next is also subscribed,
and ane Memorandum on the first leaf of it, where Mr
Archbald Huntar past to the Chancelour Maitland and re-
ceavet that Volume, and this uther, and the halfe of that
which was rent by Bishop Adamsone, is marked in the next
booke. The third booke, and the first act of it, is the elec—
tion of Mr James Richie, Clerk; which booke is all of ane
hand write. The ane booke is from the 60 to the 70 year;
the next from the 79 wherein the bishop of St Androwes is
censured and excommunicat; and new, in God’s Providence,
there is now in the present Clerks hands a perfyte Register
from the 70 year to this last Assembly, for which all of us
have reason to praise God.
The Commissioner said—See that we build on ane suir
foundation, and try weill that these bookes be authenticks.
The Moderatour craved that some judicious men, and
skilled in dignoscing hand writtes, might be nominat for
tryell of these bookes; and intreated the Earles Lawderdaill,
Southesk, and Argyle to take inspection of the Bookes;
Argyle objected his youth and unskilfulness for so weightie
a charge, yet, at command of the Commissioner, declaired
his willingness to assist the work.
The Commissioner said, that if his aune paines could contri-
bute any thing to the furtherance of the worke, he would be
readie to sit up day and night, but would not lay the burthen
on his assessours; for, he said, seeing it is refuised that they
should be Members of the Assembly, he said he saw not how
they could be appoynted for trying of these Registers.
The Moderatour answered—We are hopefull that their
Lordships will not refuse to further the good of this Assem-
bly, seeing it is said heir, it is not for want of due respect we
owe to their Lordships, but only for preservation of the
Kirkes liberties, as said is.
The Commissioner said—I cannot see how these that are
not granted to be Members of the Assembly, can cognosce
bookes containing matters of so great weight.
The Moderatour answered, that they can best judge.
The Commissioner said—~But I cannot consent unto it.
T herefor
The Moderatour said—Let the skilfullest of the Clerks of
Session, Counsell, and burrow Clerks, with the Ministers,
such as the Laird of Durie, the Clerk of Dundie, Mr Alex—
ander Pearsone, with their Assessours to help them of the
Ministrie.
Mr James Bonar. Mr John Row.
Mr John Livingstone. Mr Andrew Ramsay.
The Moderatour called upon Mr John Row.
Mr John Row answered—That he had yett in his hands
the booke of the Kirke Policie subscribed be Mr James
Richie, Clerk, which will serve to dignosce the hand writt.
Mr Archbald Johnston said he had the principall Booke
of Policie, written in lumbard paper, in his hand, which also
would conduce to that end.
This being judged to be the fittest way for tryell of the
Registers of the Kirk, and makeing them to be authentick,
The Moderatour desyred that the Commissioner would
‘proceed to try the Members of the Assembly and the Com-
missions, that soe the Assembly might be fullie constitut.
The Commissioner answered—That he who yesterday pre-
sentit a written paper from the Lords of the Clergie, desires
that his bill or paper might be first read for information
giving, anent the Members of the Assembly to be constitut;
and becaus the reading of it yesterday was denyit before a
Moderatour was chosen; now ane Moderatour and Clerk
also being chosen, I desire this paper to be read; seeing the
objections which were proponed yesterday are now removed,
and that Doctor Robert Hamilton may be called to produce
the paper, written in name of the Lords of the Clergie and
their adherents; who being called, compeired and presented
his paper to the Commissioner, desiring he would give charge
to read it.
The Moderatour said—~Some parte of the Impediments of
reading it in publict are removed, but not all; for the As—
sembly is not as yet constitut fullie. But, so soone as the
Assembly is constitut, it shall be read before any other bill
or paper quhatsoever.
The Commissioner urged still the reading of it before the
Members of the Assembly were agried upon and constitut,
becaus the paper contained many thinges neidfull to be




APPENDIX.
667


knowen before the Members of the Assembly be con-
stitut.
My Lord Lowdoun answered—That the reasons proponed
yesterday for not reading of it, are yet standing in force; and
as it was inexpedient yesterday that it should not be read till
a Moderatour was chosen, so it is yet inexpedient till all the
Members of the Assemblie be fullie constitut; for, (said he,)
there is no Assembly constitut till the Commissions of the
Commissioners to the Assembly be tryed.
The Commissioner replyed—It is a hard cause, that a man
cited before the Assembly should not be heard to object
against the Members of the Assembly who were to be their
judges. \Vho ever heard that a man accused as guiltie of a
fault, was refused to be heard to ob'ect against his judge P
My Lord Lowdoun answered— f the objection wer now
against the whole Assembly, it could not be read before the
Assembly wer constitut to be judges. But if the objections
wer against any particular Member of the Assembly, it were
only fitt tyme to object when that mans Commission were in
reading.
The Moderatour said—Then let us proceed to the tryell of
the Commissions, that the Assembly might be constitut, and
then it shall be read.
The Commissioner said—I am content, so be my Lords of
Clergie receave no hurt nor prejudice; and before yee pro-
ceed, I ask documents that nothing he done in tryell of Com—
missions, and constituting the said Members of Assembly, to
the prejudice of the said Lords of Clergie; and I desyre that
the newlie constitut Clerk may pen ane act for this effect and
give out ane extract of it.
The Clerk answered—I can neither make nor give out
Acts without a warrand from the Assembly; and the Assem-
bly cannot give warrand till it be constitut.
Then (said the Commissioner) I will take instruments in
the hands of the Lord Register, seeing the Clerk of the
Assembly refuses to write.
The Clerk said—I shall write it quhen the Moderatour
gives direction; yea, I shall write it presentlie, but cannot
give ane extract of it till the Assembly be constitut.
The Commissioner said~lf ye be Clerk to all, why not to
me? Shall I make a Clerk for myselfe ? I did protest be—
fore, that niether the Lords of Clergie nor their adherents
should be prejudged in their dignities or priviledges, by their
refuseing to read their paper, presented by Dr Robert Hamil-
toun; which paper containes reasones against election of the
Members of Assembly.
My Lord Traquair said—It is very hard that these reasons
against the election of such and such Members of the Assem-
bly should not be heard.
The Moderatour said—When the Assembly is fullie con-
stitut, then the Member complained of shall be removed.
he Commissioner said—I still will protest in name of the
Lords of Clergie and their adherents, that they receave no
prejudice by your not reading of their paper before the
Assembly proceed to the examination of Commissions.
My Lord Traquair said—T he protestation is upon your re-
fusall to read it.
My Lord Lowdoun answered—Their rcfusall is no longer
then till the Assembly be constitut; their reading of it is
only deleyed till then.
The Commissioner said—But for my securitie I will take
instruments of all in my Lord Registers hand, till that pro-
mise be performed; for, albeit I be his Majesties Commis-
sioner, yet am I a poor subject, and must answer for my
service.
The Moderatour said—I will judge reverentlie of your
Graces proceedings; yet I may say there is a too too burning
haste in these men for whom your Grace pleads, that they
will have their bill read before the Assembly be constitut.
The Commissioner answered—they have reason to look to
themselves, seeing it stands them now on their reputation,
dearer to them nor their life; and. therefore, thinkes it only
now fitt tyme to use their best defences: for what weight
will their reasons have when their parties are constitut their
judges? If myselfe were to be constitut judge, I would not
refuise to heare reasons why I should not be such a mans
judge ; therefore, I requeist the Moderatour to state the
question, and ask the Assembly what they think of it?
Then the Moderator said-There is a motion made anent
the reading of a paper, given in be the pretendit Archbishops ‘
and Bishops, and their adherents, for clearing of their mynds

who are present, concerning the election of the members of
this Assembly, and ye did formerlie refuse it till the Assem-
bly was constitut. N ow, it is urged againe; and, therefore,
I ask, whether it be convenient to read it now, or to delay it
to the Assembly be constitut, and the commissions tryed?
My Lord Traquair said—If my Lords of Clergies informa-
tion be not read before the voit and judgment of the Assem-
bly be given, and before a judicatorie be constitut, it shall be
to no purpose thereafter; therefore, it is only craved that
then information may be heard, and no answer shall be
craved till the Assembly be fullie constitut.
The Moderatour said—An absolute judgment of the As-
sembly shall not be given without reservation.
My Lord Traquair said—Instruments should be taken be-
fore they give out their judgements, that it prejudge not my
Lords of Clergie.
My Lord Lowdoun answered—Ye cannot crave the judges
Sentence in this matter before the judge be constitut.
The Commissioner said—\Ve only crave to informe these
who should be judges, and that reasons should be heard
wherefore they cannot be judges.
My Lord Lowdoun replyed—-It is no wayes competent to
this Assemblie to heare that information as a judge, before
there be a judge, seeing that information shall be alse valide
after the Assembly is constitut as now.
My Lord Traquair said—What if it can be showen by good
reason, that such ane election of the members of this Assem-
bly as ye are about, cannot be; and if this be, how shall it
be tymeous to show it after the election is made?
My Lord Lowdoun answered—The judicatorie being con-
stitut, it shall then be judged.
The Moderatour said—Whether should our owne or ex-
ternall instruments be first heard P
My Lord Traquair answered—\Vhen a judicatorie is to be
sett, whether is it more propper to except against those who
are to be judges, before or efter the judicatorie is established;
The Moderatour answered—They shall be heard; but our-
selves must be first heard.
My Lord Argyle said—I compare these here conveined to
be ane assise nominat, but not yet sworne; why may not
then we, ane pairtie accused, informe the assise before it be
sworne?
The Moderatour answered—“Te do verilie perceave great
sufiiciencie in the Commissioners Grace, who only should
speake here unto us; and if your Lordship have any infor-
mation to give in, doe it in a convenient tyme; and it is not
fit your Lordship should speake here as a Commissioner; and
it will be hard to us to make answer to every difficultie that
such a number of wittie noblemen can propone.
My Lord Lowdoun said—My Lord Argyles instance is
verie fitt, if these men who desire their information to be
read would come in here as men pannelled before ane assise.
My Lord Argyle answered—There is a sort of acknow-
ledgment be them of a judicatorie here, when they desire
such a information to be read before it.
The Moderatour said—They shall be judged in nothing
here till they have gotten libertie to speak, and except
against any Commissioner here present.
The Commissioner said—If this be ane free Generall As-
sembly, why may not any propone their doubts? How can
this be refuised to my Lord Argyle and others, they being
Peires of the land, which cannot be denyed to Scottismen P
After sundrie speaches uttered be my Lord Argyle, 'l'ra-
quair, and answers given thereto be the Sheriff of Tevrot-
daill and my Lord Lowdoun, anent the comparrsonetaken
from assise, it was concluded that the paper given be Doctor
Robert Hamilton, in name of the Lords of Clergie and their
adherents, should not be read till the Assembly was fully
constitut.
Sess. 4.-Z\/'0t'ember 24, 1638.
The fourth day, be reason of the Commissioners delay in
not comeing at his appoynted houre, the Moderatour desired
that matters to be handled might gee one in his Grace his
absence, and a promise that a full narration of thinges handled
should be made knowne unto his Grace at his first incomeing,
which the Commissioner refuised, seeing he was bound to
give particular accompt to the Kings Majestie of everie thing
done, therefore behoved to be ane witness of everie thing that
should be done.
The Moderatour said—‘Ye left at the examination of
Commissions, which serves for the constitution of the As-


668
APPENDIX.


sembly; and we crave that we may now proceed in the
examination of Commissions; and the Commission given in
for the Presbitrie of Dunce, was first read; next, the Com-
mission for the Presbitrie of Chirnside.
The Moderatour saith—We need not to crave the voits of
the Assembly anent every Commission; but, if none speake
against a Commission, after it is read, we will hold silence
for a consent and approbation of the Commission.
The Commissioner answered—if ye appoynt that silence
shall be taken pro confesso that the commission is valide, I
protest that my silence be not so exponed, but that I may
‘ave libertie to object against any Commission or Commis-
'SIOIIBI‘, in my owne tyme, becaus for the present, I am not
instructed with objections which I have and will make here-
after; and to this protestation, the Moderatour, in name of
the Assembly, assented; and so the Clerk went on to the
reading of the Commissions . . . . . . . . . - - - - - - - -
Sess. 5. November ‘25.
After in calling vpon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—Now the whole commissions are
read; and of all there are onlie l3 contravertit; and we have
now reason to praise God, that, be the silence of all that are
present, the rest of the Commissions are approven, and that,
in God’s singular favour, we have place and power to voit
and treat of all matters that shall come before us. As for
these contraverted Commissions, it is now tyme we should
examine them.
The Commissioner said—If ye proceed to examination, I
shall adhere to my former protestation of libertie to object
against any Commission in my owne tyme.
My Lord Rothes answered—It is now fittest tyme.
The Commissioner answered—I find not yet my fitt tyme
to make any objections, but seeing tyme reserved to me I
will choose it.
Then the Moderatour said—~Let the Commissions which
are in question he discussed, and begin at the Presbitrie of
Peibles, given, October first, to Mr James Bennet, and Laird
of Posso, subscryved be the Clerk.
The Commission was read, and a protestation against it,
alleadging that that election was not free, for many reasons.
My Lord Traquair craved libertie to speake in defence of
that Commission; and
The Moderatour required that he should speake of the
Minister who gave in the protestation, with a respect due to
a Minister of Jesus Christ, till he was declared infamous.
My Lord Traquair answered—That he had no purpose to
reckon for the tyme, but would referre the challenge a ainst
him to the Presbitrie ; only craved libertie to regrat t at so
unjustlie he was brought upon the stage, seeing he did attest
all the witnesses that were present at the out giving of that
Commission, that he did carry himself humblie and modestlie,
as became a good Christian, intending nothing but a free and
peaceable election; and that he did not utter any crosse
word, or a word smelling of passion or discontent; and he
attested God that the matter was as he said. Then he de—
claired that there was a formall process [extract] of that
election in the hands of the Clerk of the Presbitrie, which,
being produced, would make it cleare how unjustlie he was
accused; which process he promised to produce the next
da .
The Moderatour answered—If the process come from ane
honest hand, and be clearlie and formallie deduced, it shall
have faith; and, if the pairtie protester against the Commis-
sion can prove the contrare be sufficient witnesse, he also
must be heard.
My Lord Traquair answered—It is hard to heare witnesses
against a eldar, and formal process given in by a famous Clerk
in Writt.
The Moderatour asked at Mr Robert Ellot, (who gave in
the protestation,) what he could say? He answered, That
it was a vyld imputation layd to his charge, that he should
be ane vnjust accuser of such a nobleman; but, sayth he, if
I have done no evil, why am I called a basse, ambitious,
brybbish boddie, in the hearing of this reverend assembly?
But I passe it, seeing my Lord was called a Carpenter, a
wine bibber, and ane enemie to Caesar, and that he had a
divel; yetI have said nothing as a libeller against my Lord
Traquair, for I was readie to spend my life in his service;
and I judged that he should have lyked the better of me, that
I should have protested against any thing which seemed to
prejudge this Assembly.


The Moderatour asked if the protestation made against
that election was made in a Clerks hearing before witnesses,
and if it was written and marked ?
Mr Robert Ellot answered—That he protested openlie,
and desired to be so heard, but it was refused.
My Lord Traquair answered—The process in the Clerks
hand will clear all which is ordained to be produced : and if,
after tryell, I be proven not to have been ane intruder of my
selfe, or ane indirect dealler, seeing I walked so circumspect-
lie, I crave the wrong done to me may be redressed; for, be-
fore God, there is not a circumstance of that which is al-
leadged true.
The Commissioner answered—If he should continue in his
office, he should have the wrong redressed: if not that, he
should deale with any to occupy his place.
To that end, my Lord Rothes said—If there be wrong on
his parte, the censure of it is competent to this Assembly.
The Commissioner said—I intend not to derogat any thing
from the authoritie of this Assembly, but rather would con—
tribut unto it, and preserve it in its oune integritie. But I
would not that Royall authoritie should so suffer that ane
officer of Estate, being accused unjustlie, and so wronged,
should not be repaired according to justice.
My Lord Rothes said, that the tryell of this alledged wrong
is only competent to this Assembly.
The Commissioner answered—I doubt not but the Assem-
bly will do to my Lord Traquair what is right; but I speake
of the King’s right, and I know the Assembly may only judge
in ecclesiasticall matters.
My Lord Traquair said—I declyne not the Assembly as
judges in this matter; for I am content to subscryve ane
blank paper, to be filled up by the Assembly; yea, I darre
remitt the tryell of it to any Member of the Assembly.
The next Commission that was examined was from the
Colledge of Glasgow as singular, containing four Commis-
sioners, when other Colledges bath but ane, according to the
act of Assembly.
The Principall, Doctor John Strang, craved the production
of the Act; and after that the Act was considered, it was
found that Colledges could have no privilidges above a Kirk,
and therefore, ane act was sett downe, that ane colledgc
should have but ane voit in ane Assembly.
The 3d Commission from the Colledge of Glasgow was
layd by till the Commissioner should find a fitt tyme to ob--
ject against it.
The 4 from the Presbitrie of Ross. It was objected
against it that it was onlie ane parte of the Presbitrie of
Irwing, and it was acknowledged to be so of old, but was
now disunited by the Bishop of Iles, as was alledged; but
becaus it was not clearlie instructed, neither yet had beene
in use to send Commissioners to former Assemblies as a
presbitrie constitut, It is ordained that the Commissioners
now sent shall have no voit in this Assembly; and becaus
of ane large distance of place, and sea betwixt it and Irwing,
it was thought fitt that hereafter it shall contribut a presbi-
trie of itselfe.
The 5 Contraverted Commission from the Presbitrie of
Brechin, which after reasoning much too and fro, the tryell
of it was referred to a particular committee-—
Masters Andrew Ramsay, Robert Douglas,
David Dalgleesh, John Robertsone,
James Bonar, Alexander Somervell,
with power to them to take the oathes and deposition of the
thrie Ministers Commissioners for clearing the matter, and
reporte the diligence to the Assembly.
The 6 Commission, from Kincarden presbitrie, was ex-
amined; and being found that the Commissioners were not
elected in the ordinar Meeting place, nor in the ordinar tyme.
but only by the Bishop in ane uther place, and ane uther
tyme, and without the consent of elders, and without the
knowledge of particular Kirks, therefore it was rejected.
The 7 Commission, from the Presbitrie of Aberdein, after
tryell, was approven, and Mr James Harvie and Doctor
Barrons was rejected, as done nather in place nor face of a
Presbitrie, without any advertisement to the congregations,
and being only subscrived at that tyme by themselves, who
wer Commissioners, and by thrie uther Ministers thereafter,
in their owne houses.
8. Anent the Commissioner of Garrioch, Mr Androw
Logie, sundrie complaints being given in against him, wer
remitted to a Committee—viz., Mr Andrew Cant, Mr J amev
Martine, Mr Thomas Mitchell, and Dr Guild.



J
APPENDIX.
669




9. The two Commissions given in from the Chanonrie of
Ross. The Laird of Tarbet produced ane Instrument against
Mr Thomas M‘Kenyies Commission, and assured the uther
lawfull Commissions were comeing. The said Mr Thomas
being rejected, produced a protestation against the Constitu-
tion of this Assembly of Ministers and elders.
My Lord Rothes asked instruments, and protested that
such a Complaint and protestation was given in by the said
Mr Thomas. The Commissioner also tooke instruments of
the production of it.
Mr Andrew Ramsay offered presently to prove from
Scripture, antiquitie, consent of uther reformed Kirkes,
standing practices of our aune Kirk, and bookes of Assem—
blies, that ruling Elders are lawful and necessar Members of
ane Assembly.
The Commissioner, acknowledging his owne weaknes for
disputeing of that question, promised, in a convenient tyme,
to bring foorth some who would dispute against ruleing
Elders, as no lawfull Members of ane Assembly.
The last question, about the Commission from Orkney
was declared null, having no consent of Presbitrie, nor sub-
scription of ane Minister, toune, nor colledge.
The Moderatour answered—Now the whole Commissions
are examined, and found good. except some few. It is now
expedient that the sufl‘iciencie of the Kirke Registers be
cleared, that they may be declaired authentick.
The Commissioner answered—It is a good work; but I
have some scruples not yet removed.
Then, said the Moderatour, Let some he appoynted for
tryell of the Registers; for the Assembly being now fullie
constitut, after the examination of all contraverted Commis-
sions, may give their Commission for tryell of the Registers,
and let their testimonie anent the perfection of the bookes
be given in the morne.
Masters Masters
Andrew Ramsay, John Adamsone,
John Row, James Bonar,
Robert Murray,
Alexander Gibsone, younger of Durie,
Alexander Wedderburne, Clerk of Dundie,
Alexander Pearsone, Advocat; with such uthers as
they please to joyne with themselves.
Sess. 6. November 26.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—Let us begin where we left, at the
tryell of the record of Assemblies. There was a Committie
appoynted yesternight to give in their testimonie anent the
authentickness of the Registers. If it please your Grace, let
their answer be heard.
The Commissioner having assented,
The Moderatour called upon these who wer appoynted
for the examination of the Registers, to report their testi-
monie . . . . - . . . . . . - - . . - . . . . . . . . . . -
\Vhich having been done,
The Moderatour said—If any man have any thing to op-
pose against these bookes, let him now bring it foorth, that
ane Act may be made ; for, if no man produce anything, they
will be acknowledged be the Assembly to be authentick
hereafter.
Then the Moderatour, professing his owne insufficiencie
for so weightie a charge as was now layd upon him, craved
that some assessours might be nominat to joyne with him in
a private conference for ordering of matters to be proponed
in Assembly.
The Commissioner answered, that he would not oppose
any laudable custome of former Assemblies; but let the
Clerk and Lord Register mark that my assent be no wayes
prejudiciall to my masters right.
Mr David Dalgleish said—I have seen Assemblies of old,
and such pryme conferences, according to my poore observa-
tion, hath wrought great prejudice to the Kirk ; therefore, I
would wishe that all were done by a voluntar consent, and
by the concurrance of the whole Assembly.
Moderatour answered—Please you, the advice of the
Privat Conference has done harme to the Assembly, but not
the use and institution; for, of its inowne nature, it is very
helpfull. They aught, deed, to keepe themselves within
their owne bounds, and doe nothing that may be prejudiciall
to the Assembly ; but doe yee think it is possible ‘for a man
to propone matters for so great a meeting without asses-
sours ?

The Assembly declaired, there needed no Act he made for
assessours, but that the Moderatour may choose at his owne
discretion, some few to assist him in the ordering and pro-
position of matters; whereupon the Moderatour nominat—
Mr Hary Pollock, Minister at Edinburgh.
Mr John Adamsone, Principall of the Colledge thereof.
Mr David Dick, Minister at Irwing.
Mr David Dalgleische, Minister at Coupar.
The Earles of Rothes and Montrois.
The Lords Lindsay, Lowdoun, and Balmerino.
Sir \Villiam Douglas of Cavers.
The Laird of Keir.
The Laird of Haughton.
James Cochrane, burges of Edinburgh.
James Fletcher, Provest of Dundie.
Mr Robert Barclay, Provest of Irwing.
My Lord Lowdoun said—Please your Grace, these assess-
ours are only to advise what is to be done first, and what
next, for greater expedition and accelerating of buseinesse.
The Commissioner said—I have alwayes bene carefull to
eschue the speaking of any thing that might impede this great
and good worke, and so shall I still be ; yet must I be care-
full that my silence be not prejudiciall to my gracious
Master and Soveraigne ; and, I hope neither your disposition,
nor any here present, intends any wrong be what they say or
doe, to auctoritie. But I have bein told that the overtures
and proponing of matters do principallie belong to his
Majestie, what he thinks fitt to be agitat in the first place, in
the midle, and in the last place ; therefore I cannot asse by
my just protestation, that this prove no wayes prejudiciall to
my Masters service, and I receave no imputation by saying
nothing. \Vhereupon his Grace tooke protestation.
The Moderatour said—Your Grace needed not to have
protested, seeing the Assembly was content that everie thing
done in the Assembly should be done with his Graces con-
sent.
My Lord Rothes protested that the ordering and ‘proponing
of matters pertained only to the Moderatour.
The Commissioner said—Indeed I am weill pleased to
heare that from yow; but I must be carefull of my Masters
right ; and I hope it shall be seene to future ages that I have
bein ane honest and trustie servant to my good and gracious
Master.
The Moderatour desired his Grace to condiscend upon an
houre for the meeting of the~ Assessours formerlie nominat,
and said it was the custome to meit in the Morning before
Sermon.
The Commissioner said—I am told that the tyme and
place uses to be appoynted be his Majestie or his Commis-
sioner, who was alwayes present at these privie conferences ;
and therefore I protest that I be present at them all.
The Moderatour said—‘Ne shall be verie glad of your
Graces presence and assistance ; for we hope your Grace will
be a helpe and not a hinderance unto us. Therefore lett us
know the tyme and place which seemes to be most conveni-
ent, that the tyme be conforme to the dyet of this Assembly.
The Commissioner said—\Vhen my leasure can serve, I
shall be readie to give attendance.
The Moderatour asked the opinion of some of the brethren.
Mr Robert Douglas, Mr James Bonar, Mr Andrew Cant,
Mr John Bell, said, that the tyme might be appoynted by
the Moderatour; but it must be advertit that nothing be
determined in these privie conferences, nor any thing pre-
judiciall to this free Assembly; but only that matters be
ordered and digested be them, that soe things might be
rightlie proponed in the Assembly.
The Moderatour said—I was present at these Conferences,
at ane Assembly in Aberdein in 1616, and they tooke very
much upon them, for all matters were concluded and deter-
mined; that the privie Conferences satt 3 or 4 houres, and
the Assembly satt but ane houre, and intimation was only
made in the Assembly of their Conclusions, and the Assem-
bly was asked if they had any thing to say against it; but I
hope they shall hold themselves within their bounds.
The Moderatour said—There uses some to be naimed for
receaving of papers and billes that are to be given in, becaus
it will not be convenient that the whole Assembly be troubled
with everie particular complaint ; therefore let some he nomi-
nat for vieuing of the Billes, that hes best skill in matters of
this kynd, tha: they may report to the Assembly, what is
pertinent to be handlit here, and what not.
The Commissioner said-There is nothing that hes bein


670
APPENDIX.


the order and customs of Assemblies but I shall heartillie
consent unto it.
The Assembly appoynted for receiving of Billes, &c.,
The Moderatour desyred that the rest of the Commissions
that were not cleared and approven, might now be examined;
and first he desyred to hear the report of these that were on
the Commission for Brechin. They answered that they were
not sufiicientlie instructed.
The next was Commission from Peibles.
My Lord Traquair said—For clearing of the suf‘ficienci e of
this Commission, ye may see the whole process under Mr
Patrick Purdies hand, Clerk to the Presbitrie, who is here
present.
Mr John Bennet said—\Ve, the Commissioners of Peibles,
nave hitherto been silent; now we desyre to be heard, and
that this reverend Assembly would take this matter to their
Consultation; for here is ane whole Elderschip accused by
ane man, whereas the Scripture sayes ——“Accuse not ane
elder but under the testimonie of two or three witnesses ;” and
this man, ane of our bowells, of whom we expected better
things, hes now brought us on the stage, and spitted on our
face, and brought us in suspition, by surmizing speaches,
and open challenges; and this he hath done under pretence
of zeale for the freedome of this Assembly, quhilk God for-
bid we should prejudge. “'e are heir, Men, haters of vyce
and lovers of veritie, willing to give all our concurrance to
everie good worke.
The Moderatour said—It is not an accusation, but ane
Protestation; and it will appeare by the determination of
the Assembly, whether he hath done wrong or not.
My Lord T raquair said—I know certainly they have a
Commission most warrantable; but since now it is contra-
dicted, I submit myself to the judgment of the Assembly;
and I crave that the whole process may be read to the As-
sembly, that it may be knowne on whose parte the fault is;
and if it doe not clearlie disprove what Master Ellot hes said,
and make good what I have said for myselfe, or if there be
a syllable or circumstance of that quhilk he alledges true,
or if ever I have a thought in that kynd, I were not worthie
to come amongst Christians, let be to come here; for it is im-
pertinent, if not impudent, for a man to intrude himselfe in
such an action as that which is against all conscience and
dignitie. But I propose not now to use any recriminations.
Mr Robert Ellot said—My Protestation is not accusation
or challenge against any mans persone, but against the in-
formalitie of the election of the Commissioners, least this
Assembly should be challenged afterward for admitting such
a voice in matters as was not instructed with sufficient Com-
missions. Alway I am sorry that my Lord Thesaurer
should be ofi'endit. I thought his Lordship should not have
been offendit; for, God is my witnesse, I neither intendit,
neither have I given any occasion of offence.
My Lord Traquair said—I submitt to the judgement of
this honourable company, if this be not rather an accusation
nor a protestation, and that in a high streame, challenging
me for intruding myselfe in that bussines after so unjust a
way ; but neither this assertion nor myne can take away ane
judiciall act. I hope both our partes shall be cleared be the
Proces quhich must have faith, except ye will offer to improve
the writt, and prove the Clerk to be false.
The Moderatour said—It is possible he may give some in-
formation for himselfe, which will not contradict but may
subsist with the proces.
Then the proces was given to the Clerk and read.
Traquair said—I doe not say but my judgement may
differ from Mr Ellots or any other mans; but if thare hes
been any illegall way usit by me, I am readie to answer ac-
cording to law and reason ; but if his judgement doeth not goe
alongst with me, I hope this will be no reason to condemn
myne forit; and when this honourable meeting hes consider-
ed this proces, if they be not satisfied, I will submitt myselfe
to their judgement.
Moderatour said—That Mr Ellot had nothing to say
against the proces; quherupon the Thesaurer tooke In-
struments, that Mr Ellot acquiesced to the trueth of the
proces.
My Lord Yester requyred that these who were present
might be asked concerning that quhilk Mr Robert had
alleadged; for he sayes nothing contrare to the proces, but
something more nor is in the proces. And he ath given
a protestation only, and not ane accusation : and when I
posed him straitlie, what moved’. him to give in the protesta-

tion, he tooke God to witnesse that he did it out of con~
science and love to the good of the Cause.
Traquair said—My Lord, let me speake as good friends
and Christian subjects ane to another.
Yester answered—I desire earnestlie it may be so; but it
may be I cannot speake so pleasantlie to your Lordship as I
would, be reason of this throng about.
Traquair said—I take it to be a clame and accusation
against the formalitie of the election; and what is in the
proces, I remitt it to the judgement of the Assembly, and if
any thing be called in question which the proces cannot
cleare, I shall justifie ane uther way.
Sess. 7.—29 ZVovember, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—We left at the testimonie which
was given by skilled men who wer appoynted for trying of
the Kirk Registers, and their testimonie was read in your
hearing; and we requested all to bring in this day, their
objections and scruples concerning these registers : now we
crave that ane who pleases would object ; for if no man ob-
ject, an act or record will be insert in the bookes of the As-
sembly, declairing that these bookes are authentick.
The Roll being called be the Clerk, the Moderatour asked
if the brethren did approve the registers? Who answered
that they did; and desyres that reasons of the approbation
might also be insert in the bookes of the Assembly, and
that there was not any protestation made be his Majesties
Commissioner. They desyred also that the Bishop of St
Andrews might be summonded for the production of these
bookes which are wanting.
The Moderatour said—Ye heard of a declinatour given in
be the pretendit Bishops and Archbishops containing many
divers crymes and challenges against the Members of this
Assembly ; therefore it is desyred that some paper may be
read, containing some answers to many pointes of their declina-
tour, and not a full answer, such as shall be given in here-
after; only this shall serve to give some answer, &c.: which
two papers being read be the Clerk,
The Commissioner said—I did not expect an answer to
the Bishops declinatour and protestations, seeing the declina-
tour was only presented to me, wherefore ane answer from
the Assembly was needless.
The Moderatour answered—The inscription of the Declina-
tour sayth, “ A Declinatour to be red before the Assembly,"
and therefore ane answer must be given be the Assembly.
Then the Clerk was desyred to read some answers made
to the Prelates and some Ministers objections in their de-
clinatour and protestations against ruling elders had any voice
in the sentence of excommunication.
The Moderatour answered this—The Presbitrie hes it, and
they as members of the Presbitrie. Further, he said, these
papers being unperfyte, and not having fully exped all that
is to be answered to be the bishops declinatour and protestation
against Elders, there is the more to be expected; and in the
meantyme we are obleist to God that the lyke declinatour
and objections wer given in be the remonstrances against the
Synod of Dort ; so that we neid no uther answer to the
bishops objections then these the Synod of Dort made to
these remonstrances.
Then the Moderatour red the answer out of the booke of
the Synod of Dort, and said, this is J udicium T heoloyorum
magnce Britannica.
The Commissioner answered—Heir is a man by me, who
desires to make answer of that which ye have red from the
Synod of Dort.
Balcanquell asked libertie to speake, seeing he was not a
Member of the A ssembly; pleading so farre, of the caice of
the remonstrances and our bishops was different in two maine
respects—therefore the same answer could not serve the
bishops declinatour, which was most valide against the re~
monstrances :—first, becaus the matter of the remonstrances
accusations was anent points fundamental], such as election
upon foreseen faith,—universalitie of Christs death, and co—
operation of Gods Grace with our will—resistabilitie or
Grace,—the finall apostacie of the saintes : in which pointes,
and uthers of that nature, are all bound, under the paine of
damnation, to betake them to the one syde; and therefore
the remonstrances could not justlie declyne the Church of the
Low Countries in questions of that nature, though they had

..H____._-___,. .._ .- “an. ., ._~



APPENDIX.
671


before that Synod, cleared themselves to the contrarie; for if
any such exceptions are of force to declyne a N ationall As-
sembly, of necessitie they behoved to be referred to the
judgement of strangers ; but the questiones in the Church of
Scotland were not anent fundamental poynts of religion,
which, by our Confession, are declaired to be eternal and
unchangeable, but anent matters of policie and order, which ,
the twenty first article of our Confession shawes to be alter-
able. Secondly, he excepted that the Kirke of the Low
Countries had not before that Synod, bund themselves by
oath and subscriptioun, against the doctrine of the remon~
strances, as we in the Kirke of Scotland had done against the
bishops, and the causes depending betwixt us and them.
The Moderatour said that it was a questione of great difi'i-
cultie, to decerne what pointes are fundamentall and what
not; and, if this whole Assembly were sett to it, it would
take them to the morrow at this tyme. Secondly, That
Synod of Dort did not pronounce these points contraverted
betwixt them and the remonstrances to be hereticall, but
only to be erroneous. Thirdly, Doctor Feild, and uthers,
distinguishes errours in two fundamentall poynts about the
foundations of these that are more remote, and p'rceter
fundamenta. In the first sort, meir ignorance was damnable,
but, in the third, obstinacie, as Doctor Feild instances Pauls
cloake, what became of it, or whether Onesimus was Pauls
Servand now. Now the Moderatour assumed that Dr
Balcanquell would not af‘firme that sinne ignorance of these
pointes of Arminianisme was of the selfe damnable. Fourth-
lie, Our Church holds, that all the maine poyntes of her dis-
cipline ordour, were warrantable by the word of God; and
that, be God’s grace, we are able to prove it to be so; for
the second article of our Confession, declareing Ceremonies
to be alterable, it is to be exponed only of the circumstances
of the tyme and place.
Mr David Dalgleish addit two answers farder z—l, Antient
Counsell had proceedit, and finds themselfes competent
judges, even when matters of inferior degree are questioned,
as in the questions of N ovatus and Danatus. 2, That the
Bishops wer indytit for poyntes of heresie, such as the Doctor
acknowledged to be fundamentall poynts—to witt, poynts of
Poperie and Arminianisme.
Then the Moderatour said—Seeing, in Gods providence,
this Contestation is tymeouslie fallen in, it is fitt that this
Assembly should voice, whether they find themselves com-
petent judges to the pretendit Bishops, notwithstanding of the
Declinatour and Protestation ?
The Commissioner said—I find in myselfe a great con-
trarietie—causes of joy, but greater causes of grietf ; causes of
joy, that I am able, before God and all that heare me, to
make good all the whole ofi'eris his Majestic hes made to this
Kingdome, be severall proclamations and declarations, and
more also. But I have sorrow that I cannot goe on so as to
bring matters in hand to such ane peaceable end as I would;
therefore, before ye proceid further, I will renew all my
protestations, made in name of my Master, and Lords of
Clergie, here. I will present unto yow his Majesties gracious
pleasure, signed with my owne hand by his warrand.
Then the Clerk tooke and red it, and it containes a dis—
charging of the Service Booke, Booke of Cannons, High
Commission ; ordaines the 5 articles of Perth to be no more
urged, and gives libertie to the present Assembly to repre-
sent their judgment of these articles to the next ensueing
Parliament ; and that no oath be taken of ministers but that
which is insert in the Act of Parliament. It promises Gen-
erall Assemblies to be indicted als oft as shall be found ex-
pedient. It showes that his Majestic is content that the
bishops be censured be the Generall Assembly, and that he
intends no change of Religion. It bath a command to sub-
scryve the Covenant and band made 1580 and repeited 1589.
After the reading of it,
The Commissioner said-Now, I hope all these to all
aspersions, anent change of religion, are declared to be un-
just; so, if any change of religion had bein intendit, this As-
sembly had never been granted, nor yet these offers made
unto yow. I am entrusted with a full commission for the
preservation of religion, punishing of vyce, and to consider
of all the just exceptions against the Bishops and Episcopacie,
and have power to rectifie all the abuses of that oflice, so
farr as that sort of government may still remaine in the Kirk,
as government not contrare to the word of God; and anent
the practice of this and uther churches, I have power to limite
it so, that it shall not be able to wrong the church; and if ,

they wrong it, they shall be punished : yet, my commission
is more ample than I will expresse. But, seeing I have not
found that respect dew to ane Commissioner, and know
what prejudicat opinion these here hes of me present ; and,
when I consider what directions were sent from the Tables
of Conveiners of Meetings at Edinburgh to presbitries, be
noblemen, gentlemen, ministers, and uthers, it gives me just
occasion to declair, that I can give no consent to any thing
that is heir done ; and to cleare what I have said, I present
heir two uther papers, ane sent from the Table at Edinburgh
to presbitries, the uther from persons to their friends, and I
desyre they may be red. I cannot designe the men who
sent these papers ; but sure I am these papers are sent, dis-
persed through the kingdomc, and that mens proceedings an.
according to the directions of these papers ; for there is not a
Commissioner chosen but Covenanters, or, if any uther be,
there is a protestation against him, or else they are chosen
becaus none other could be found. I find, also, ane absolut
resolution to mentaine the la‘i'vfulnes of the election of lev
Elders, to voit here, and the election of ministers by lei'
Elders, and everie thing in this Assembly going on contrarl:
to the practice of all former tymes and positive lawes of this
kingdome: Therefore, I can acknowlege nothing to be heir
done by the voit of such men. In the mean tyme, I desyre
that this declaration of the Kings will, may be insert in the
Bookes of the Assembly, as ane testimonie of his Majesties
sinceritie in religion, and that he hath no intention of any
change in Religion, and is readie to perform all that is here
promised, and what further may conduce for the peace of the
land, and especiallie, that Assemblies shall be indicted als
oft as the afl'ares of the Church shall requyre.
The M oderatour his Speach to the Commissioner his Grace.
It weel beseemeth us, his Majesties Subjects, conveened
in this honorable Assembly, with all thankfullnes, to receave
so ample a testimonie of his Majesties goodnes, and not to
disesteeme of the smallest crumbes of comfort that falles unto
us of his Majesties liberalitie. With our hearts doe we ac-
knowledge before God, and with our mouth doe we desyre
to testifie to the world, how farr we think ourselves obleist
to our dread Soveraigne; wishing that the secrete thoughts
of our hearts, and the way wherein we have walked this tyme
past, wer made manifest. It hath bein the glorie of the re-
ormed Churches, and we accompt it our glorie after a speciall
maner, to give unto Kings and Christian Magistrats, what
belongs unto their places; and as we know the fifth command
of the law to be a precept of the second table, so doe we ac-
knowledge it to be the first of that kynd; and that nixt
to pietie towards God, we are obleist unto loyaltie and obe-
dience to our King. There is nothing due unto Kings and
Princes, in matters ecclesiasticall, which, I trust, by this
Assembly, shall be denyed unto our King: ffor, beside auc-
toritie and power in matters civill, to a Christian King he-
longeth, first, inspection over the afi'aires of the Kirk, et debet
inm'gz'larc not only super ecclesiasticz's sed super ecclesiastica:
He watcheth not only over Kirkmen, but over Kirk matters.
Secondly, The vindication of Religion doth also belong unto
the King, for whom it is most propper, be his Majestie, to
vindicat Religion from contempt and all abuses, he being
keiper also of the first table of the law. T hirdlz'e, The func-
tions, also, are in his Majesties hand, to confirme, be his royall
auctoritie, the Constitutions of the Kirke, and to give them
the strenth of a law. Fourth, His Majestie also bath the
power of Correction: he both may and aught compell Kirke-
men in the performance of their dueties which God requires
of them. I'lzfthly, The Correction, also, must be from the
Prince, who hath power from God to coerce and restraine
them to his terrour and auctoritie, from what beseemeth not
their places and callings. Sixth, The Christian Magistrat,
also, hath power to convocat Assemblies, when they find
that the urgent affaires of the Kirk doe call for them: and in
Assemblies when they are convened, his power is great,
and his power aught to be heard—first, as he is a Christian,
having the judgment of discretion in all matters debateable
and contraverted; next, as he is King or Magistrat, he must
have the judgment of his eminent place and high vocation,
to discerne what concernes the Spirituall weill and Salvation
of his Subjects : and, third, as a Magistrat singularlie gifted
with more then ordinarlie, gifts of knowledge and auctoritie;
and we heartilie acknowledge that your Grace, as his Majes-
ties high Commissioner, and representing his Majesties Royall
persone, hes a cheefe place in this reverend and honorable


672
APPENDIX.




Assemblie—first, as a good Christian; next, as ye are his
Majesties great Commissioner, and third, as ane endued with
singular graces, and after a speciall maner, fittest for this
employment. Far be it from us to deny any thing that is
done to these who are in supreme auctoritie, or to such as
are subordinat unto them and delegat be them. When Alex-
ander the Great came to Jerusalem, he desyred that an Image
might be sett up in the temple, which the J ewis modestlie
refuised as inconsistent with the law, which was the law of
God, but libertie offered in their power, and more honourable
for the King, that they would begin the reckonings of the
tymes from his coming to Jerusalem, and would call all the
first borne sons be his name. What is Caesars or what is
ours, let it be given to Caesar, but let the God by whom
Kings reigne, have his owne place and prerogative—be whose
grace our King reigneth, and we pray may long and prosper-
ouslie reigne over us.
The Commissioner said—Sir, ye have spoken as a good
Christian and duetifull subject.
The Moderatour said—Indeed we take this to be a free
Assembly indicted be his Majesty, and we trust that all
thinges in it shall be so moderat, that the word of God and
reason shall seeme to proceed in everie thing, and that we
shall not goe forward ane steppe, but as a clear light shall be
holden out before us; and we trust to make it evident to all
men that we cannot nor darre not walke in ane uther way,
and we are hopefull, that such a righteous King as ours is,
needs nothing but to have a clear trueth pointed out before
him, and when he sies it, he shall fall in love with it.
The Commissioner said I am hopefull that ye will proceed
so as ye are obledged by your oath of alleadgence, and I trust
that all his commands shall be found to agrie with Gods
commands.
The Moderatour said—It is our heartie wishe it be so; and
we rander to his Majestie heartie thankes for this Assembly,
and we trust that, be Gods assistance, in nothing shall we
pas the bounds of a free Assembly.
My Lord Lowdoun eikit and said—As your Grace hath
declaired his Majesties graceous pleasure, to the contentment
of all the hearers, in condiscending to many points of the
petitions of his subjects, for the which we heir rander, as the
Moderatour hath said, heartie thankes; and we humblie
desyre ane copy of the Prelats paper, conteining so many
criminations against us, opposing this lawfull constitut As-
sembly, that we may consider it and censure it, and there-
after the giving of it, according to the word of God and
Constitution of this Kirke, may cleare ourselves of all the
imputations layd to our charge.
The Commissioner said—It hath a claus in it, as I re-
member, bearing registration; therefore ye may get it.
My Lord Lowdoun said—But we crave that we may have
ane copie of it, with your Graces allowance, out of the Clerks
hands.
The Commissioner said—I will not hinder yow to cleare
yourself of any imputation layd to your charge; but I will
IIiot suffer yow to goe on in censureing the prelats as I wishe
mi ht.
Mgr Lord Lowdoun said—We trust that all our proceedings
against them shall be found frie of partialitie.
The Moderatour said—As before I asked if the bookes
and Acts were the rule whereby their faults should be cen-
sured, Sir, now I ask if this Assembly finds themselves
competent judges to the Prelats P
The Commissioner answered—If they proceed in the cen-
sure of their persones and offices, I must remove myselfe.
The Moderatour said—A thousand tymes I wishe the con-
trare; and I intreat your Grace to heare the voites of this
Assembly in this matter, seeing it belongs to the Assembly
to be judge of their Constitutions.
The Commissioner said-I must not wrong myselfe, and
much more the great bussinesse I am entrusted with, if I
should argue the question with such a learned man as yow
are ; but I thinke it strange, notwithstanding the exceptions,
documents, protestations, and declinatours usit be me in
name of my Master and Lords of the Clergie, that they can
take this matter to the consideration of the Assembly.
Surely it is not the Bishops but the King ye have adoe
with.
The Moderatour said—I must yet ask if this Assembly
finds themselves competent Judges P
The Commissioner said—I wish that question may be de-
ferred this time.


The Moderatour said—It is only the fitt tyme to propone
this, after the reading of the declinatour; and I am only a
servand to this Assembly, and can doe nothing at myne
owne hand.
The Commissioner said—I can tax your carriage in no-
thing you have done, as a wise and discreit Gentleman; but
I see now that this Assembly hes determined to go on for
all that can be said; therefore I may no longer keepe silence,
but oppose myselfe unto it.
Rothes said—It seemes that the Commissioners Grace
hath exceptiounes against this Assembly—for two reasons—
first, becaus too many ruleing Elders have voice in it; to
which I answer, there are no more nor are warrandit be the
word of God, practice of uther Kirkes, and positive law of
this Kirke ; and if that any yet thinke that Elders should not
have voice in this Assembly, alse free as any in former tymes,
let them cleare it be good reason, for we are et readie to
dispute the matter. The uther exceptioun his Grace seemes
to have against this Assembly is, that he thinkes partialitie
will be used heir, and that matters are determined by us be-
fore hand, as his Grace hath laboured to cleare be his two
papers that are red, which are said to come from the Tables
at Edinburgh; but we deny these papers to be ours; and
heir I produce the two verie true papers which came from
us, which have no thing in them so absurd as is said to be.
The Commissioner said— I excepted not against your
privat, but against your publict papers.
thes answered- There came no papers from ws but
these two be me produced; and if any uthers there be, they
are only the advice of privat men to their privat friends;
and if any thing be worth the challenging in these papers,
let the author of them answer for it. And now we crave
and humblie entreat your Grace if there be any exceptiounes
against our former proceedings, that they be declared; for
we are verie hopefull to justifie all we have done to the full,
and that we shall be able to defend all as warrantable : for
we never intendit but to proceed according to the word of
God and lawes of this Church and Kingdome.
The Commissioner said—Your refuiseiug to give voit in
this Assembly to the Kings Assessours, is enough to prove
the contrare, if there were no more.
Rothes answered—Their voits is contrare to the Constil
tutions and liberties of this Kirke, and therefore our refuise-
ing must.not be taken in evil pairt.
The Commissioner said—That the Kings Majestie hath
bruiked the privilege of having assessours to voit in Assem-
bly_ these 50 yeares past, and why not in this Assembly,
seeing our King hes showen such myldnes and benignes,
and hath not uttered any angrie word since I came to this
Kingdome ?
Rothes replyed—As we acknowledge that he hath beene
a good and graceous King, so whatsomever is competent to
be done to such a King, shall be done by us, to witt, at his
willing, obedience heartilie prayes and wishes that he may
lang and prosperouslie reigne over us ; and if we doe not so,
let not God’s blessing be upon us. But we must so proceed
38.131118 free Assembly be not prejudged, nor the liberties of
this Kirk impaired, seeing we must make answer to ane
higher judge. If the priviledge craved were in matters that
were in our power, we would soone have yealded ; but seeing
they are not, I thinke we should be excused.
. he Commissioner said—Seeing ye will not give to our
King what was given be our predecessours, I cannot thin ke
ye will have that obedience ye speake of.
‘Rothes answered—Obey we will, in everie thing dew to
his Majestie, be the word of God and lawes of this Kirk,
and shall be readie to thrust out of doores all such as will
be utherwayes. But if that which is now craved was given
in former tymes, not by a right law but by a corrupt practice,
and matters were caried utherwayes in his Majesties ab-
sence then they should when many moe corruptions, as now
to be redressed, why not that amongst the rest ?
The Commissioner said—It is enough for us to prove that
he had Assessours.
_ My Lord Rothes said—Let your Grace say that he had be
right, and we shall agrie to it.
Moderatour said—Thinkes your Grace of these worthie
and Noble Lords that sitt by yow, that this is refuised out of
any disobedience to our,King, or disrespect to these Nobles,
but from a respect to God and his Kirke, and these Com-
missions may verie weill agrie ?
The Commissioner said—No man may thinke but our




APPENDIX.
673


._____________.._.__

graceous King will mentaine the liberties of his Kirk in all
heartie and sincere wayes as any of his predecessours and
thinke he nowayes intends to incrotche upon the liberties of
the Kirk at this tyme, but only to defend it from the op-
pression of overruleing Elders : and yet I tax no man—for
have no charge to that end; and if I had, I thinke I have
a heart to execute my Masters Command as ane other Man.
But our King, intending only the maintenance of the puritie
of religion in a quyet manner; and, therefore, I desyre that
nothing he put in practice in this Assembly by ley Elders,
which hath beene so long out of practice. If these Elders
should have beene pleased that this Assembly should have
beene constitut, after the late ordinar maner, and than have
corned in and claimed their right to sitt and voit here in a
fair way, I thinke it would have beene granted; for what
could conduce more to further a Kings end, and strengthen
his auctoritie in ane Assembly, than that a number of wyse
and learned laymen should have voit in it P But becaus he
intendeth only the preservation of the puritie of religion, he
cannot consent that ane Assembly should consist of such a
great number of ignorant men, wanting abilitie to judge
matters to be handlit heir, but desyred only that this As-
sembly may consist of the Churches owne pure Members,
that so she may receave no prejudice heir.
Lowdoun said—I perceave the maine objection against
the voiting of the Ruleing Elders is yet urged, and their
ignorance to judge in matters that are to be handlit heir;
therefore I offer heir to dispute, that the office of a Ruleing
Elder is warranted by the Word of God, practise of uther
Kirkes, and lawes and practise of our owne Kirk, and re-
ferris the decision of the question to the Assembly as the
only competent Judge. The question is alreadie dispute
heir be Doctor Balcanquell, and it is grantit from the testi-
mony of the Synod of Dort, that Elders have voit in matters
of faith, and matters of discipline and order; and where it
is objected that these Elders at the Synod of Dort were
learned and judicious men, able to dispute and treate of the
greatest matters in the Latine tongue, and these heir assem-
bled are not such for the greater pairt, I answer. it is not
alwayes men of the greater place and learning who bring
foorth clearest light in matters that concern religion. There
are heir a number of Gentlemen and burgesses of the lowest
sort, trained up at schooles and colledges, taught all the
grounds of religion, and able to decerne trueth when it is
pointed forth; therefore—seeing be the lawes and practise
of this Kirke, such hath been in use to voit before, and we
have offered to dispute the matter yet more—‘referring the
decision of the question to this Assembly, we hope there is
enough said for clearing of our power.
'1 he Commissioner said—It is hard for me to make an-
swer for everie speach of such a number of learned and
understanding men. But, as I remember, Doctor Bal-
canquell said not that the Elders of the Synod of Dort had
voice in matters of faith.
My Lord Lowdoun answered—It is true the Doctor made
a distinctione of more and les fundamental poynts of faith.
But that Synod did determine what was more fundamentall
and what was less fundamentall poyntes of faith; and it is
clearlie proven that the Elders had voit in all matters pro-
poned their.
The Moderatour said to Doctor Balcanquell—Let the
question be yet stated and agitat; for the question now in
hand is not, whether the office of Ruleing Elders be war-
ranted by the word of God—which I thinke none will deny
—but the question is, whether the Elders, according to the
Acts of Assembly and Customes of this Kirk, hes place to
voice heir ? And if ye, or any, will be pleased to conferre or
dispute the question, we are ready for it. The Convocation
House of England would not be content that any should say,
“ Your Church is not weill constitut ;" far les can we heare
it said to us; therefore we would be glad to heare what ye
have to say in this question; and if the Commissioners
Grace would stay, we trust he shall heare this and many
uther questiones discussed.
My Lord Rothes said—The Commissioner seemes to take
speciall notice of that expression which was in the Letters
from Edinburgh, called the Tables; as if the Letters from
these Tables did import a judicatorie; therefore I desyre to
cleare it. When great numbers were conveined in Edin-
burgh from the sense of evills lying in this Kirk, and wer
joyning together in putting up a supplication to the Lords of
Counsell, my Lord Thesaurer taxed us for such numerous

l
I
l
l
Convocations, quhilk as the Convocation was out of love to
Religion, which seemed to be in hazard, and therefore everie
man having onie particular interest, conveened: we answered,
that such a Convocation behoved either to be, or Commission-
ers in their name; and your Grace desyred that when ye
came to Edinburgh, that the toune might be emptied of such
multitudes; and your Grace ordained that the schyres should
convene be their Commissioners : therefore, when the Com-
missioners from schyres and presbitries mett, and sett downe,
what absurditie is in it, to call them so mett, “ a Table,” see-
ing it is not called a Counsell Table, or a Judiciall Table,
such as the Prelats called their Tables? If we called it a
J udiciall Table, let us be hanged for it. A taylors table, sit-
ting with his men sewing about its—so called a Table—or a
company eating at such a mans table, there is no absurditie
in the speache; and we did not call ourselves “ The Tables,”
but uthers gave it that name.
The Commissioner said—I except not much against the
name of Table; neither have I spoken any thing in passion
against it, albeit I be naturallie passionat; yet I thank God
there hes not much passion escaped me heir. I have no caus
of passion to heare these Meetings called a Table; for there
is passion enough at my heart, that I find so much power at
these Tables, and so little at the Counsell Table—for it is
weill knowen, your positive Counsells are more regarded nor
the Kings Counsell Table. But I forbeare to speake more.
I could bring foorth many moe just causes and exceptions
against your proceedings, but I know they will be to no end;
for I feare your prejudged opinion of all that I can say.
My Lord Rothes desyred that his Grace would bring foorth
any one instance wherein any had failed at that Table.
The Commissioner said—Ye know that all the ordour
from them hes been readilie obeyed, but little or nothing
from the Counsell Table. ‘
My Lord Rothes said—I know neither direction nor
obedience given in any thing from that Table, but according
to the word of God. and lawes of this Kirk and Kingdome.
The Commissioner said—I came not heir to recriminat,
and therefore I pas it.
My Lord Rothes said—Please your Grace to heare the
true directions from that Table ; for, in trueth, I never heard
of these given in be your Grace; and, when ours are read,
we trust we shall be found to surrogat no auctoritie to our-
selves.
The Moderatour said—If any good success come from these
directions, it is to be imputed to God, and not to their
auctoritie.
My Lord Lowdoun said—I would ask at your Grace,
what are these directions from the Counsell Table, which
have not gotten readie obedience from us P For I know
none but such as could not be obeyed for conscience sake,
and that cannot be compted disobedience.
The Commissioner said—I know that all my Masters
Commands are justifiable, and such as good Christians should
obey; and I thanke God for his righteous and clement
heart.
My Lord Lowdoun said—‘Ye think that your Graces
labours hes still turned matters to the better, and we pray it
may be so still, till thir matters be at ane end.
The Moderatour said—I would ask the voits of the
Tables, whether you thinke yourselfes a Nationall Assembly
or not P
The Commissioner said—If I could patientlie continow, I
should tell my opinion ; but seeing now my loyaltie and
faithful discharge of my Commission is in hand, I must re-
move my persone; for my estate is not so deare to me as my
reputation and fidelitie to my Master. _
The Moderatour said—\Ve only crave the renewing of
your Graces former patience. _
The Commissioner said—I cannot assist nor consent to
any thing that is done heir, except ye adhere to that which
ye have heard red, in the sealed paper; and 'Stlll I protest
that nothing done here may inferre his Majesties consent or
myne, or yet oblidge any of his good subjects.
Rothes said—After many supplications were presented to
his Grace, your Grace was imployed for sattellmg of matters,
and we expected a happie conclusion when your Grace pro
mised to deale for a free Assemblie ; and, if any Just excep
tiones were against the Prelats persone or discharge of their
office, it should be referred to the Assembly : And now the
free Assembly is granted, and is fullie constitut. If your
Grace, who is a cheafe Member of it, be protestation and
4o
1—
674
APPENDIX.





deserting of it, labours to make this Assembly most unfree
it is more nor we expected. If your Grace hath any just
exceptioun against our former proceedings, or doth feare that
we shall not proceed in such a just maner as becomes us,
we are readie to cleare our selves. In both we shall repell,
or give satisfaction, for bygones, or for tyme to come—the
law of God, and Constitution of this Kirke, shall be ane rule,
as it hath beene hitherto.
The Commissioner said—I attest God, I have laboured as
a good Christian, loyall subject, and kynd countryman, for
the good of this Kirke, laying aside all privat considerations.
as I shall answer to God ; and, at my last oing to Court, I
said to some of my particular friends, that should doe what
in me lay for procureing a free Generall Assembly; and now
a most free Generall Assembly hath beene procured and in-
dicted : but things in it are so carried that it is like to be a
most unfree Generall Assembl . For the reasons I have
alreadie expressed, glad would be to have it utherwayes,
as there is nothing which can be proponed, keeping my self
within the bounds of my Commission and fidelitie to my
Master, but I shall doe it; for I desyre to serve God, my
King, and my Countrie. But a weightie burden is layd on
the back of a sillie young man overcharged with a toilsome
bussinesse, and unable to bring it to such ane end as I would.
Rothes said—And the present evils, and further incon-
venients like to come by your Grace rysing, must be ane;
and we protest that we are free of all : Therefore it must lye
upon these unhappie men ; they are the band of all the evils,
and their source sends foorth all thir secrete suggestions
and privat whisperings against Ruling Elders, is a chiefe
cause of this.
The Commissioner said—But I heard these men sweare
that, for procureing the peace of the Land, they were con-
tent to lay downe their ofiices and livings, and leave this
Kingdome. I grant the offer is but small, for the Prince
whom they serve can make it up another way.
The Moderatour said—I wische these men were more wise
then to make themselves more odious to the land, by mov-
ing your Grace to leave this Assembly; for it is evidentlie
seene by all, that they are the cause of your Grace rysing.
The Commissioner said—I grant the cause is be urging in
of a declinatour and a protestation against lay Elders ; but,
truelie, they are free of this my declaration, now red in your
hearing, which I desire to be insert in the bookes of the As—
sembly.
The Sheriff of Teviotdaile said—The paper your Grace
craves to be insert, is full of grace and goodness, and the
registration of that, proves the bookes to be an allowed
Register, and the Assembly to be lawfull; and if your Grace
hath protested against the auctoritie of these bookes, and law—
fulness of this Assembly, and will leave it as unlawfull, how
disassenting are these P
The Commissioner replyed—Whenever I have assented, it
shall stand good.
The Moderatour answered—Your Graces direction to
registrat these papers in this, is ane acknowledgement that
these bookes are good.
Mr David Dalgleishe said—I perceave, by your Graces
speach and the Bishops paper, that they desyre to be cleared
of these foule aspersions and imputations given in lybell
against them. If, then, your Grace shall leave this Assem-
bly, it is evident that they have the wyte of it, and have no
will to be cleared, but would have all their challenges and
imputations lye undiscussed.
The Commissioner answered—I am sure the Bishops de-
syres nothing more then to have a lawfull hearing before a
judge free of partialitie; but no man will submitt himself to
a judge whom he thinks his partie, as they think this Assem-
bly to be.
Mr David Dalgleishe said—If I were in their case, and
iudged myselfe free of such imputations, I would submitt
myselfe to the meanest subject of this kingdome, let be to
such an honourable Assembly.
My Lord Lowdoun eikit—If they would declyne the
judgment of ane nationall Assembly, I know not ane com-
petent judgment seat for them but the King of Heaven;
and, as for us, we sweare we have no personall prejudice at
them: but in sua far as they have wranged the Church.
the King, and Countrie, we desire they may be censured
for it.
The Commissioner said—I stand to the Kings prerogative
as Supreme Judge over all causes, civill and ecclesiasticall, to

whom I think they may appeale, and not let the causes be
reasoned heir.
My Lord Argyle desired the Assembly to heare him a little
before his Grace should departe, and said—~I was called to this
Assembly by his Majestys command; but now, being come,
I desyre to cleare myselfe, that my pairt hes bein fair in
every thing that I know, neither as fiatterer of the Kings
Grace, nor for my own ends. I have not striven to blow
the bellowes ; but studied to keepe matters in als soft a
temper as I could : and now I desyre to make it knowne to
you, that I take you all for members of a lawfull Assembly,
and honest countriemen. As this Assembly consists of
members civill and ecclesiastic, I wishe that care may be had
that this bodie may byde together, as ye all hand yourselves
by the late subscryved Confession of Faith; but I desyre that
nothing he done in this Assembly to the wronging of that Con~
fession subscryved by us of his Majesties Counsell, as if I had
subscryved it with a mynd different from that which all had
at the first making and subscryvin of that Confession.
My Lord Lowdoun answered— our Lordships protesta-
tion is very reasonable, seeing it is very scandalous that ane
Confession should be subscryved be the Lords of his Majes—
ties Counsell and Session, and ane uther be the bodie of the
countrie, as if they were two different Confessions of Faith
among the professours of ane religione in ane kingdome;
therefore, it is earnestlie desyred of all, that the Confession
of Faith be cleared, and a full explanation of all the heads
and articles of it, that all may heartilie joyne in ane Religion,
and duetifull obedience to our King, and that no slander goe
abroad to uther nations.
The Commissioner said—\Vhat is done by warrand of
auctoritie shall be cleared by the lawes of this Kirk and King-
dome, and wayes also shall be found to cleare his Majesties
intention and will.
My Lord Lowdoun replyed—VVe are nothing difiident 01
that, neither is any thing of that sort said by us to prescryve
your Grace; but seeing two Confessions are subscryved of
divers constructions, as humble supplicants we desyre that
the Confession may be cleared, that all his Majesties subjects
may be joyntlie tyed to God and the King.
The Commissioner said—I had warrand to give order for
that and much more, but alace ! I may not now stay.
My Lord Rothes said—It is pittifull that the Confession
should not be cleared, seeing it is subscryved with three
sever-all Constructions, and in Aberdein by some after a
Popishe maner, admitting all the ordinances of the Kirk in-
troduced or to be introduced, and this is the Papists impli—
cite faith ; by uther with that Construction only which it had
when it was first subscryved anno 1580; and a third sort
with a mere abjuration of all novations introduced since that
tyme : therefore it is necessar that the Confession be cleared
in the Assembly.
The Commissioner said—I cannot stay now.
My Lord Rothes said—Because your Graces departure
was surmized this morning, therefore it was found necessar
by this Assembly that a protestation should be made against
your Grace. But we are most unwilling for to present it,
and would rather intreat your Grace to propone your scruple
and exceptions against this Assemblie, that they may be
cleared. If your Grace will not, but will depairt, we must
protest that your Grace hes depairted without a just reason.
The Commissioner said—I make a declaration that no—
thing done heir in this Assembly shall be of any force to
bind any of his Majesties subjects; and I in his Majesties
name discharge this Court to sit any longer.
The Commissioner leaves the Assembly.
And while the Commissioner was in depairting, the pro-
testation against his depairture was put in the Clerks hand
and red, and Instruments tane of the protestation.
The Moderatour said—All that are heir knowes the reasons
of the meiting of this Assembly; and albeit we have acknow-
ledged the power of Christian Kings for conveining of As-
semblies and their power in Assemblies, yet that may not
derogat from Christs right; for he hath given divine warrants
to convocat Assemblies whether Magistrats consent or not:
therefore, seeing we perceave men to be so zealous of their
Masters commands, have we not also good reason to be zealous
toward our Lord, and to mentaine the liberties and privi-
ledges of His Kingdome? Ye all know that the work in
hand hes had many difiiculties, and God hes borne us through
them all to this day; therefore, it becometh us not to be dis-



APPENDIX.
675



couradged now by any thing that hes interveined, but rather
to double our courage when we seeme to be deprived of hu-
mane auctoritie. He desyred some of the brethren should
speake a word of encouragement and directioun to the Assem-
bly, as God shall put in their heart for the tyme.
Mr David Dick said—Ye all understand that the great
\vorke now in hand hes bein from small beginnings; for at
the first, we intendit only to exoner ourselves, and to leave
a testimonie to the posteritie that we bure witnesse to Christs
opprest cause. W'e thought the Cause desperat when we
were chargit to buy the Service Bookes under the paine of
horning; yet we gave in supplications to the Counsell, de—
syring us to be heard against such indirect proceedings.
When we knew not what to doe nixt, God hes led us on
steppe by steppe, keeping us still within the compasse of his
word and lawes of this Kingdome, for any thing that we
ken; and we have only followed our caus with humble sup-
plications to our King, and protestations against that which
we could not obey: and it is evident that God hes accepted
our testimonie—for his hands are about us still—for if he
had not directed us, and his hand had not guyded us, we had
beene long since confounded in our witts, and could have
done nothing for the compassing of this great worke, more
nor young children; neither could we have continowed in
ane mynd till this day, if ane spirit had not told us. Seeing
the Lord hes led us in a safe way to this day, he is now to
crave a solemne testimonie of the Kirk of Scotland, and to
ask of everie Man, who is his God? And we have clearlie
presented unto us, a lesson of our fidelitie to our Lord from
my Lord Commissioner. He hath stood punctuallie to the
least point of his Commission. It becomes us to be als loyall
to our God, seeing we are not restricted to particulars as he:
Therefore, seeing this Court is granted to us of God, under
our King, and with allowance of our King, and a parliament
indicted to warrand all the Conclusions of it; and now he
hes drawen back his granted warrand, shall we for this be
disloyall to our God, and slyde from that which He hath
granted? If we goe not, we shall prove tratours both to
God and our King; or if we be silent, and passe from this
Assembly, how shall the will of God be demonstrat to our
King in pointes controverted? There is not a meane to in-
forme our King fullie and clearlie, but the determinations of
this Assemblie: Therefore we must now proceed, and so
proceed as all our proceedings must answer for themselves,
and, it may be seine, we have proceedit as good subjects to
God and our King. We must either goe on, or take upon
us all the imputations of scandalous and turbulent ersones,
and grant that there has been als many wranges as t ere had
been false imputations layd out against us; and this were to
sin more deeplie, and to quyte these glorious priviledges which
Christ hath granted to us, above all our Sister Churches, see-
ing there is not a meane to cleare ourselves to the Christian
world but this. Let us goe on, putting over the matter upon
our Lord and Master, and he shall answer for us at the Court
of Heaven, and justifie us in the eyes of all that are wise.
Mr Harry Rollock was called next, who uttered a speech
to the effect foresaid.
Mr Androw Cant, and some uther of the brethren, snack
likewise to the same purpose.
In the meane tyme came in
My Lord Erskine, before the Assemblie, and, with teares,
did regrait his so long refusall to subscryve the covenant,
and was now most willing, with heart and hand to subscryve
it, if the Assemblie would be pleased to accept of him : the
seeing and hearing whereof caused no small matter of joy to
the whole Assembly; acknowledging, with admiration, the
wonderfull Providence of God—that some had deserted and
gone from them, so uthers were sent unto them. To encourage
them there were also, at that tyme, four or five uthers, some
whereof had been in uther countries, in tyme past, who all
did enter in ane Covenant with joy to themselfes and the
whole Assembly. After which, the voites of all the Assem-
bly were craved by the Moderatour——\Vhether they would
adhere unto their Protestation newlie red, or continow to the
end of the Assembly now discharged?
All and everie ane of the Assemblie except six or seven,
declaired solemnlie, that, with all their heart, they adhered

unto their Protestation, and promised to continow till this 1
Assembly, after the settling of all matters, be dissolved be
commoun consent of the Members.
The Moderatour, having renewed the question againe,
Whether they found themselves lawfull and competent Judges
to the pretendit Bishops and Archbishops of this Kingdome,
and the Complaints given in against them and their adherents,
notwithstanding of their declinatour and protestation P The
whole Assemolie, except four, declared this Assemblie to be
most lawfull and competent Judges to the pretendit Bishops
and Archbishops of this Kingdome.
The Moderatour having called upon the name of God, this
Session dismissed.
Sess. 8.—-N0cember 29, 1638.
Moderatour—I must intreat yow, honourable and welbe-
loved, to consider yow are in the sight of God, who not only
requires inward reverence, but also outward respect; becaus
these who hath beene our old adversaries, and hath now de-
claired themselves to be so, hath spoken reproachfullie against
this Generall Assembly, especially becaus of the tumultuous
carriage of the Members thereof, when they speake concerning
the suffrages—the voits of the Members of the Assembly.
But that no such occasion may be given to them heirafter,
let your carriage be grave as in the sight of God. Keep
yourselfes quyet; becaus ye ought to have your judgements
exercised about the matter in hand, and elevating your mynds
to God to send downe light; and, when he sends downe a
good motion, ye may expresse it with gravitie, and that two
or thrie speake with leive—not that I assume any thing to
my selfe, but I am hold to direct yow in that, wherein I have
the consent of your owne mynd.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour uttered these words :-—The Assemblie is
not fullie constitut—not that I call the lawfullness of it in
question, for the authoritie of it is manifest—but let us leave
nothing undone that is necessar for the constitution thereof.
There are some Commissions controverted, quhilks are not
yet discussed; therefore let the Committies delyver their
papers, and tell their judgements.
After some remarks by several of the Members regarding the
disputed Commissions, the Moderatour said—In the declina-
tour and protestations given in by the Prelats, there were
some exceptions tane against some worthie men who came
out of the Kirk of Ireland, admitted Ministers in Scotland,
and now chosen Commissioners to this Assembly; therefore
it is good the Assembly had all their mynds cleare concerning
them : and after that we will not have much adoe with Mr
Robert Blair, Mr John Livingstoun, Mr James Hamiltoun;
for Mr Alexander T urnbull he is under censure.
Mr Robert Blair said—We have our reasons to give in
against the unjust proceeding of the Prelats against us in
Ireland, proving their Censure to be null. If the Assembly
thinks it expedient, we shall read them.
Moderatour said—Doe ye remember the words of the De-
clinatour concerning yourselfe P
Mr James Hamiltoun said—These are the words: “also
some Ministers under the Censure of the Kirk in Ireland.”
Then the Reasons were given to the Clerk and publictlie red.
Moderatour said—Take head to these Reasons that ye may
object and propone in any thing wherin ye get no satisfaction.
Mr Robert Blair said-——There were some that were under
censure, and we were never chargit; only we heard about a
year after we came away they were seeking us.
Mr David Dick said—Moderatour, I will tell some thing
to cleare that, becaus I am their neighbour. Now, I heard
that when they wer under proces, the bishops had respect to
their not comeing back againe, or if they came, it might
scarr people from hearing of them.
Moderatour said—I believe our Church is independent,
and depends not on the Church of Ireland.
Mr Blair said—And there is not ane in this Assembly
that adheres to the Confession and Covenant of the Kirk of
Scotland, but the Prelats, both heir and there, jud es them
all worthie of the deepest censure that their preten it power
can inflict. It had bein small matter that some four or five
of ws been carceired, were not thereby the publict caus had
been woundit; for the same prelats are alreadie to charge
this whole Assemblie with the same, wherewith they charge
us; therefore, if there be any heir who have any thing to say,
let them do it publictlie in the face of this Assemblie. If
the declarations be not cleare, the Assembly may get full as-
surance of this.
The Moderatour said-Ye have not a mynd to bring this
Assembly to a snair; but if there fall out any thing to be
written against the Assembly, ye will cleare the same by
writt.



[—
676
APPENDIX.


Mr Blair said—Ive promise so to doc, and for our owne
parte, we thinke all that speakes in ane Assemblie, should
speake in the sight of God.
Shirreif of T eviotdaill said—I thought to have gotten far-
der satisfaction and some information concerning your de-
pairture out of this Kingdome, at first removed.
Moderatour said—Weill remembred; for there is some—
thing of that in the Proclamation, saying these who made
Sermons against Monarchicall Government are Members of
this Assembly.
Mr Blair said—I thank God that, by occasion of this and
that which the worschipfull Shirretf have said, my declaration
of this point is occasioned, all which of my owne accord I
would gladly have motioned, were not I feared the imputation
of takeing up too much tyme in this Honorable Assembly.
I first take God to witness, that all the afflictions that hath
befallen me from my youth, at my hand, hath beene, for
aught I know, for constant adhereing to the Confession of
Faith of the Kirk of Scotland, since the day that Perthes Acts
were determined, where I was present, and the Lord fur-
nished me with resolutions to stand to the trueth, which
there I perceaved to be oppressed. And I am sorie that
this declaration, if I be particular in it, will force me to ex-
presse the names of some whom rather I would desyre to
sparr. It is weill knawne, while I was a Master of the Col-
ledge of Glasgow, there came a learned Countryman of
myne, that had been in forraigne pairts, and promised to re-
duce the Colledge to conformitie to Perthes Articles; and
finding me somewhat resolute to stand out, it made some little
grudge in that learned mans mynd. There was addit to this
ane uther in a publict theologicall dispute. It fell out that
a poynt of Arminianisme in the poynt of election, where
foirsein faith was mentained by that learned mans schollers,
who came out of France with him, I being the opponent.
What I say can be justified by a Commissioner within this
house, who will be loath to utter it unles he be put to his
oath, in respect of the respect that he beares to that learned
man. This being the Controversie, standing out against the
corrupt course of conformitie, and that in a dispute I taxed
that Arminian poynt in my notes upon Aristotles Ethicks
and Politicks. Heirupon I, not being called to any publict,
civil, or ecclesiasticall Judicatorie; but in ane accademicall
or schoele meeting I was called there, and examined upon
some dictats in Aristotles Ethicks, where I stood before all
the Universitie, offering dispute upon all that I had taught,
and for three houres dyted aff hand answers to the questions
that were made, subscryved them with my hand, and offered
that they should be transmitted to the Kings Majestie of
blessed memorie. This being done, Mr Robert Wilkie,
Rector of the Colledge, being a bearer, stood up and said,
“ Would to God King James himselfe were resent to hear
the declaration that this man hes made :" Lykewayes, Mr
Robert tooke me in his armes and thanked God that I had
so far cleared myselfe. Perceaving what undermyning powers
were against me and the course of the tyme, I resolved to
have resigned my place, whereto I was bound seven yeares:
wherupon Mr Cameron, that learned man—a learned man
indeed, whose name I wished altogether to have spaired—
perceaving he was lyke to have lost his thanks for labouring
to reduce me to conformitie, dealt with me in privat, and in-
gadgit himselfe that I should ryse to preferments if I would
be drawen to conformitie, and that it was ane happie occa-
sion to give up my name to the King, having declaired my-
selfe to their satisfaction. Ane uther poynt—the Archbishop
of Glasgow was drawen on this course to examine the poynt;
but perceaving how he had bein led, and that malice had
caried on the course, he delyvered my papers wherein I had
given my answers, and would not take them back againe,
and told to a worthie man, Mr James Robertson, that he
perceaved the ground of all the matter was meere malice
against me, and withall sent for me and requeasts me not to
leave the Countrey, for I should shortlie be provydit for:
And after I had gone to Ireland, he declared to my brother-
German, Mr William Blair—a grave and judicious man,
knawen be the most parte of the Assembly—that he was re-
solved to plant me in the Kirk of Air, where God by his
providence hes now brought me. This was written to me
the first moneth I was in Ireland—and moreover, there was
ane Letter written be the Archbishop of Glasgow to King
James; and before he wrote it he send for me and said, “ I
fear there be some that not only carries evill will at yow
but me in this matter, and least we should be both wranged,

I will write ane Letter to his Majestie for our exoneratiom’
and theme he wrote ane letter, and there was an answer re-
turned to me by my Lord Alexander, Earle of Stir-lings
sone, resolving me that the King was more nor satisfied;
so there was no cryme layd against me, but that I proponed
some question out of Aristotles Ethicks ; swa there was
never any judiciall proces, let be ane sentence against me:
only there was ane academick meeting, and becaus I wearied
of philosophie and demitted my place.
The Moderatour said—Then it is unjustlie said by some
that bein censured, yow are put out of the Colledge.
Then I r George Young and Mr Robert Baillie and
Mr Zacharie Boyd declared that he had related the matter
truelie.
Mr John Adamsone said—There is ane generall accusation
against them as is against the whole Assembly ; and so they
are but scandalls.
Moderatour—They scandall us for having laick Elders,
and we shall make it manifest be the word of God, that we
should have them. Then the Moderatour called on sundrie
members of the Assemblie—Mr Robert Wilkie, Mr James
Bruce, Mr Androw Ramsay; Nobles—Johnstoun, Lowdoun,
Cranstoun, who answered they were all satisfied.
The Moderatour said—Altho’ the prelats accusation be
generall, yet for stopping of the mouth of malicious persons,
we will stryve to answer any particular that we can perceave
they ayme. Ye remember that there are some generall
thinges in the declinatour concerning some ministers under
censure and not, were stryving to find out who they could
meane, bethought they be not named; and we find that there
were some under the censure of the High Commission: Mr
David yow are one.
Mr David Dick said—~I was admitted Minister of Irwing
before Perth Assembly six months; and having understood
that Perth Articles were given out, I fell to and studied the
cause as I should answer to God; and being under sickness
for the tyme, I held me quyet the space of two yeares and
heard all men and carried not myselfe hither and yond:
and last, when I saw it lyke my life should not have been
long, I saw it necessar to give my testimonie to that trueth
that I thought was borne downe. The Bishop got notice
that I spake frielie, and yet in such modest termes as they
would not have gotten me in the calk; for within three or
four yeares after my entrie, was summondit before the High
Commission. I compeired; and because it was the first day
of the Bishops their new roofe—having gotten the greene
wax from Court—that is, that day they were made sole
bishops as they were not before—I tooke course, after the
incalling of the name of God, to doe as became a faithfull
member of the Church of Scotland, to mell with what be-
longed to my calling, I drew to a declinatour of that J udica-
torie, because I was inhibited be act of Parliament. \Vhen
I red my summonds, I looked wher they should have said,
“ James, be the Grace of God, King of Great Britaine,” and
I found that they said, “ James, be the mercie of God,” &c.,
“and John, be the mercie of God, Bishop of Glasgow,”
which I made a reason of my declinatour, and offered to be
judged by the first General Assembly; and this declinatour
they turned to be my quarrell: which day I was appointed
to waird; and least I should be mistane, albeit I acknow-
ledgit not their sentence, I removed from Irwing, in regard
to the Kings auctoritie. to Turray, where I was three quar-
ters of a year. After, I was, by the diligence of my Lord
Eglintoun and the tonne of Irwing, by my knowledge,
brought to Glasgow, where Cameron tooke in hand to con-
vert me or to put my heid in the perrill; and after I had
talked with the Bishop, I obtained this honour that he should
not make conformitie the matter of my challenge, but wherein
I had done wrang to auctoritie I would cleare it. And my
Lord Eglintoun, Mr John Bell, and Mr Robert Scott, who
is now dead, was present when I cleared myselfe, to have
done no wrang to auctoritie by my declinatour. After this
the Bishop of Glasgow gave ane warrand to my Lord Eglin-
toun, under his hand write, to send for me to keip for my
exoneration. I took Instruments of my hand, comeing to
Irwing: heir the act and the letter of the Bishop, which I
desyre the Clerk to read.
The Moderatour said—I hope the brethren hes gotten
satisfaction.
The Moderatour called on Mr Samuel Rutherfuird and
said to him—Were you not sent to Aberdeine by the High
Commission?


APPENDIX.
677

Mr Samuel sayes—Most true. I was sent in and sum--
monded be the High Commission for divers pointes the
Bishop of Galloway lybelled against ‘me, and there was no-
thing at all proven against me, notwithstanding three severall
dayes I was before them; and the third day they had no
uther question to propone but these wherewith they attempted
me the first two dayes—only the matter of none conformitie
which I stand by ; and upon this they sentenced me, after I
declared, by write, the unlawfulness of that seat, and that I
durst not be answerable to the King to acknowledge that
J udicatorie, becaus it was against the standing law of the
Kingdome. Notwithstanding of this, they proceedit against
me, deprived me of my ministrie in Anweth, and confined
me in Aberdeine. I watched on in Edinburgh, desyring the
Clerk to give me ane extract of the sentence, but could not
get it, and the reason why he schiftit me was, becaus the
Bishop of Galloway caused him adde a pointe to my sentence
that I was not sentenced for—to witt, that I should exercise
no ministeriall functione within the Kings dominions. The
Clerk denyed it was a pointe of my sentence; notwithstand-
ing, the Bishop of Galloway caused adde that pointe, and I
could never have the extract of it, onlie I got the Copie of
it, and so I went in without a charge; and, heareing that the
Secrete Counsell had accepted a declinatour against the High
Commission, I came out without a charge.
Clerk says—By Act of Parliament, all the Kings leidges
are discharged to give obedience to any judicatorie, but that
which is established by Act of Parliament and lawes of the
Kingdome; therefore ye ought to be condignlie censured for
entering into waird.
The Moderatour said—Earlstoun, yow have beine lyke—
wayes under their Censure ; who answered—I was confined
in Wigtoun under the High Commission, where I gave ane
appellation to the Counsell which Lorne can declair.
Argyle said—Indeed I remember weill of the Decreit past
against Earlstoun when I was in England, and, when I came
home, it was the day before Earlstoun was appointed to goe
to waird. I desyred earnestlie that he might not be confyned
but fyned; and so the pretendit Bishops did, which is not
overseene in their dittay. There was a decreit given out
from the High Commission upon no warrand but his none
compeirance, as if he had bein present in fora corzz‘entz'ssz'mo.
The Bishops went on as if he had compeired, and decreitit
all that was libellit, as if it had been proven; and the Bishop
eikit, at his owne hand, “becaus Earlstoun presumed to
protest.” Upon this I found it was a litle informall, and
desyred Earlstoun to forme ane bill and give in to the Coun—
sell. When the bill was given in, I dealt with the Bishop
of Galloway, to see if he would keep it from a publict hear—
ing, and he was satisfied, but afterwards he was not so will-
ing. I insisted and solicitat the Counsell that they should
be content to dispense with the confynement, upon the pay-
ment of his fyne, which they were content with.
Moderatour said—I beleive verilie that these to whose
eares the voice of the speakers hes come, be satisfied with
that which hath bein said. If any he not yet satisfied, or
hes any point or circumstance to show that they have heard
objected against thir worthie Men, let them bring foorth.—
Since there is nothing to say, let us goe on.
Although we doe not match or eqnall the Confession of
Faith of any reformed Kirk with the word of God; altho’
we doe not make it formam fidez' sed formam confessiom's;
yet we have great reason to think reverentlie of our owne
Confession; becaus uthers, who have bein Strangers, give a
great testimonie to it. That it may be the better thought of,
it is expedient that we have a cleare understanding of the
particular articles therein contained, especeallie these that
are controverted. Ye know what a bussines hes bein about
the subscriptions of the Confession of Faith—some subscry—
ving it with some interpretation of it, or application to the
Seruice Bookes and Cannons, and uthers subscryving that
of late tryed by his Majestie, and the short Confession of
Faith, with the generall band nakedlie, without any sick
application or interpretation, subscryvit be the Counsell.
We are to think advisedlie to it as of great importance, and
hope we shall heare somewhat to give us light to encouradge
us to goe forward in the interpretation thereof, that that
light we have may shine to uthers.
Argyle said—I should be glad that all that are heir might
heare me to the full; and least I should be mistaken of what
I said yesterday, I would gladlie let it be heard to this com-
pany, I intendit that two thinges should have beene knowne

before we parted in the termes we did. The first was, onlie
to take the Commissioner and States to witnes on the one
parte, that what had beene my parte in all this bussines was
neither fiatterie nor seeking my owne ends; that, upon the
uther pairt, it ought to be knowne that I was never a desyrer
of any to doe any thing that might wrang soveraine auctoritie,
but studied to keepe thinges in the fairest order I could.
The second thing was truelie, I heard some dispute was like
to grow by somewhat that was spoken be Doctor Balcanquell
concerning the Constitution of this Church; and, although
it was incumbent to me to beware that that dispute should
not grow dangerous—that when a whole Kingdome was en-
tered in a nationall oath, the Assembly mi ht not enter in
any dispute, nor go in any thing that mig t prejudge any
thing that by their owne knowledge and consent had been
done; I say it was incumbent to me to heare witnes that
nothing should be done prejudiciall to that voit ; not that I
thought that I desyred it should not be tane to consideratione
what it were, becaus some hes done it douhtsomlie—uthers
hes referred it to the Generall Assemblie—uthers, not out
of any dislike to religion, subscrivit it as the meaning of it
was when it was first sett downe, which I now adhere unto,
and declaires, that in the publict way that we did it, it was
as it was then profest, without any sophisticatione or equi-
vocatione whatsomever, and I heare of no uther interpreta-
tion; and that I adhere to againe and againe, and desyres
that any thing of that kynd be done wiselie, and be so looked
to, that a whole kingdome run not themselfes to a national
perjurie. And if I have beine anything intricat, I cleare
myselfe, and make it knowne unto the world that I adhere
unto the meaning of that Covenant as it was first subscryvit,
againe and againe, shortlie wisheing this nobile and worthie
meiting to go on wyselie, considering the goodnes of our
gracious Master, who hath condescendit to many things, and
gone further on nor many looked for; and what is wanting
I hope ‘it is misinformation. And for the Commissioners
cariage, it hath beene very modest; and therefore I recom-
mend to you to consider that ye have both the estate of the
countrie and the estate of religion in hand, and according to
your discreit cariage will this glorious worke be done; and
doe it in that respect to your graceous Soveraigne as be-
comes obedient Subjects.
Then the Earle of Montrois said—My Lord Wigtowne
was to come heare with my Lord Argyle to make his owne
declaration, and will be heir on Tuysday to declair himself
to the Assembly as my Lord Argyle hes done, and will give
all satisfaction.
Then the Moderatour spacke to the Assembly—My Lord
Argyle desires yow to know that his Lordship hes put his
hand to the Confession of Faith, and uthers of His Majesties
Counsell, with this express declaration, that they have sub-
scrived according to the meaning of it when it was first sett
downe, and willes the Assemblie to proceed consideratelie
concerning that, lest they doe any thing to bring any man
that hes subscryved it under the suspition of that they can~
not tell what; and \Yigtowne hes declared by Montrois that
he could not stay to day to make the same declaration, but
will returne the next week for that effect; therefore since
we have this recommended to us after this manner, and the
matter requyres the same, it is good for us to proceed ad-
vysedlie and consideratelie, as that which will have light to
any menes mynds—I mean when we come to declair what
was the meaning of the Confession of Faith when it was
first subscrived—what was abjured therein in doctrine, dis-
cipline, worship, or government—so as it may give all satis-
faction to all men; and I trust this grave Assembly will give
their declaration from good reasons and weil groundit, for
it is a material poynte.
Then the Moderatour, in name of the Assembly, desyred
Argyle to stay in the towne and be a witnesse to their pro-
ceedings, though he was not a Commissioner.
Argyle said—My interest in religion, as I am a Christian,
though not a member of this Assembly, yet in the Collective
bodie of the Kirk, induces me thereto.
The Moderatour said—This is a materiall poynt, and it
would take up a lang tyme to heare all the acts concerning
the clearing of the Confession of Faith; therefore I thinke
it good, if the Assembly be pleased with it, to appoynt a
Committee to view the bookes therefore, that they may ad-
vyse about thinges and make them ryper to the Assembly:
for next unto the word of God, this Confession, so solemnlie
sworn, should goe deepest in our mynds.




578
APPENDIX.


Lowdoun said—It must be the rule of all our proceedings,
and the ground of all our comfort, when we are put to far-
ther tryells; therefore it would be verie deeplie considerit,
and some judicious men named upon the Committie.
Auldbar said—There is some in the North that hes a
third Covenant.
Moderatour said—\Ve are not oblist to expone that.
The names of the Committie :
Mr David Lindsay, Mr Walter Balcanquell,
Mr Andrew Cant, Mr Harie Rollock,
Mr James Martine, Mr David Dick,
Mr Thomas Mitchell, Mr Robert Hendersone.
Mr Thomas VVilkie.
Rothes, Lowdoun, Balmerino, Burley.
Barons—
Auldbar, Keir, Shirreff of Teviotdaile.
Burgesses—
James Cochrane, Patrick Bell provest of Glasgow, James
Fletcher provest of Dundie.
Montgomerie said—Moderatour, we desyre our Summonds
and Claims against the pretendit Archbishops and Bishops
be red.
The Moderatour said—Ye knaw the Prelats wer summond
in the best way could be thought upon; and now, since the
Assemblie is constitut, and bath discussed all objections that
can be imagined against us, let us heare what is said against
ane of the Bishops, and remove the rest to be looked on by
these that have the charge of the Billes. \Ve need not
spend tyme in reading the generall Complaint against the
Bishops; but here is a particular, condiscending upon some
things which will cleare the generall. This is against the
Bishop of Galloway.
There was a lang Clame red, conteining fifteen or sixtein
scheits of paper, against the pretendit Bishop of Galloway :
Then he was called upon by the officer of the Assembly,
James Bell.
The Moderatour said —This is a great bussines we are en-
tered upon, and we may perceave, by the reading of the
Clame, what will be said against all the rest; and becaus
it will trouble the Assembly, let them be first viewed by a
Committee delegat by the Assembly for that effect, who
may give accompt to the Assembly.
The names of the Committee-—
Mr James Ramsay, for the Diocie of Edinburgh,
Mr John J amiesone, for the Diocie of Glasgow,
Mr \Villiam Dalgleishe, for Galloway,
Mr Donald M‘Elwrath, for Argyle,
Mr John Duncane, for Dumblane,
Mr George Symer, for Dunkell,
Mr Robert Murray, for St Androwes,
Mr George Halyburton, for Brechin,
Mr Alexander Martine, for A berdeene,
Mr \Villiam Falconer, for Murray,
Mr David Monro, for Ross,
Mr George Leslie, for Cathnes,
Mr William Stewart, for Orkney,
N obles—
es, J ohnstoun, VVedderburn,
awers, Kinliet,
Provest of Kinghorne, Baillie of Innernes,
Mr George Gray clerk of Dundie, [Haddington.]
To thir wer addit—
Mr John M‘Kenzie, of Lewis, and
George Gordoun, brother to Sutherland.
\Vhen the Clerk called on Doctor Robert Hamilton, Pro-
curator for the Bishops, to answer to any thing he can say
to the Summonds and Complaints given in against them,
he compeired not.
The Moderatour said—Ye know I was saying that the
first occasion of our Complaints and supplications were the
Service Booke, and these Cannons that were urged upon us.
Ye know how miserable the face of this Church and State
had bein before this tyme, if we had not supplicated against
these evills, and what great mercie the Lord our God Wham
we sarve hes shawen in delyvering ws so farr from them; yet
that it may be knawen to the world that our supplications
wer just, and that there may be some monument of the
wickedness of that Booke left to the generation following,
it is very expedient that it be examined heir, that your
judgements may be knawen and the reason of your Judge-
ments; and that we may goe on the more compendiouslie,
it will be good that there be a Committee chosen also for
Eglintoun, We

this. Then the advyce of some of the Members of Assembly
wer taken, who all gave consent to this.
The names of the Committie—
Mr John Adamsone,
Mr Edward Wright,
Mr John Menzies,
Mr Androw Ramsay,
Mr Robert Baillie,
Mr Alexander Petrie,
Mr John Oswell, Mr Samuel Rutherfuird,
Mr Alexander Kerss, Mr John Hay.
The Moderatour said—The Booke of Cannons, Service
Booke of Ordination, and High Commission, all of them
are to be sighted by yow.
Sess. 9. —N0vember 30, 1638.
After prayer to God by the Moderatour,
The Moderatour uttered these words—\Ve trust in God,
that the more our good cause hath bein defending, and for
which we are now conveened, is agitat, it shall be the more
clearlie seen, and the more to be seen the more it shall be
affected, and these that shall see the excellent lusture that
shall be on it, shall, no doubt, be enamoured with it.
Argyle said—I have gotten a paper which I never saw
before. It is from the Earle of Kinghorne, and, becaus it is
a missive direct to me, I shall read it, and desyres it may
be keeped by the Clerk.
Rothes said—Heir is ane uther of that same nature from
my Lord Galloway. Lowdoun, Yester, Home, went to him,
and he spack something before, and we caused put it in writt
and sent to him, and he renewed it; quherein his Lordship
declaired that he had subscrived the Confession of Faith,
as it was professed in the year 1581, and wishes all the As-
sembly to make it the rule of all their proceedings; and he
shawes that they were all wyld in, secreatlie, to the Com-
missioners Chamber, and, being debardit, they subscryvit
the proclamation, not knawing what was in it; but, when
Galloway heard it, he would have had his hand from it,
and, when he saw that he could not get it back, he was so
excessively greeved that he professed he got no sleepe all
that night. .
Then the Earle of Montrois said—That the Earle of Mar
had given him Commission to declair to the Assembly, that
he had the same meaning in the subscryving of the Confes-
sion of Faith; and, quhen tyme was fitt, he would declair it
before all the world. Lykewise said the Earle of Mar, he
being hardlie pressed to subscryve the proclamation, he re-
fused, and said, he would not declair his Sone a Traitour,
who yester night had subscryved the Covenant, and professed
to the Marqueis and these who pressed him, that, as long as
his blood was hote, he would think Covenanters als honest
Men as themselves. Likewise,
Montrois said—That he had Commission from my Lord
Napier, to declair to the Assembly, that he had the same
meaning in subscryving the Schort Confession, as it was
first sett doune. Montrois said, further, my Lord Amont
would declair the same before the Assembly.
The Moderatour said—Though we had not a Nobleman
to assist us, our cause were not the worse nor the weiker;
but there is occasion given us to blesse God that they are
comeing in daylie in throngs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Moderatour said—There were, in your hearing, some
Committies appoynted for some materiall poyntes; for con-
sidering the Confession of Faith; the Complaint against the
Prelats; the Service Booke; the Booke of Cannons; High
Commission, and Booke of Ordination; but it is impossible
tlci examine thir in so short a tyme, and therefore we passe
13 em.
Lowdoun said — Please yow Moderatour, we began to
looke upon that purpose, being a. matter of great importance,
and deserved an accurat investigation of thinges that did
passe, especeallie, not about the Confession of Faith, which
was first made and subscryved at that time. We went back,
in looking to these registers and Bookes of Assemblies
quherein we find the discipline of the Kirk accuratelie ex-
pressed, so that I thinke, if, in God’s Providence, these
Bookes had not bein found, it had bein hard for the Church
of Scotland; because it is about matters as they wer then
presentlie established and concludit. The seeking out of this
and the looking over of many Acts, tooke a long tyme; but,
on all, we find a great harmonie and cohesione, clearlie set
downe, to put out Popperie and Episcopacie. The name is
examined; the corruptions is examined; the office is examin—
ed; and their severall considerations tane to many Assem-
blies. The Discipline, of long deliberation, is sett downe.



APPENDIX.
679


The Confession of Faith following, is a confirmation both
upon the ane and the uther; and the ground of thir'hes bein
the root of many of our proceedings through this Kingdome,
especeallie the renewing of the Confession of the same oath
first framed, which I hope will give satisfaction to all men who
could not weill understand it before, when they shall take
knowledge of thir bookes. We dar not now give out our
judgement fullie; but we will goe on in consideration, to satisfie
ow all, and we crave your fpatience to acquyet yourselfes in it.
It must have long tyme; or matters of so great 1mportance
cannot be done but accuratelie, for every mans satisfaction.
The Moderatour said—It were better not to touch it at all
then not to handle it accuratelie and solidlie; yet we allow
not the Committies for determination of any thing, but only
to prepair matters for the Assembly their judgement, and if
need be, tyme may be prorogat further~to them.
Lowdoun said—God, the Father of light, give light unto
it, for it must be the rule of all our proceedings.
The names of the Committie for the Prelats called upon
for their Complaints.
Mr Robert Murray said—That the Complaint against every
particular Prelat behoved to be tryed, and therefore desyred
the Moderatour to intimat to the Assembly, and, if any had
information against any particular Diocesian Prelat, that they
would give it in to the Committie.
Then the Committie for the Billes were called on.
Mr David Lindsay answered—We have discussed some par-
ticular Billes that came before us, and we conceave this; that
where the caus is weightie and the proces red, we think it
good that Summonds be directed both for the Pairties and
witnesses. There be uthers against whom there is no formall
proces, and it will be weill done to heare the judgement of
the Assembly anent these.
Moderatour said—There be two sortes of processes: ane
sort are these which are closed alreadie before the particular
J udicatories ; I meane the Presbitries from whence the
Pairtie are complained upon, who have heard the witnesses
and set downe their deposition; and nothin left to the As-
sembly but to pronounce their Sentence. hese may come
in pertinentlie before the Assemblie. But for uther proceses
that are not concludit, and witnesses not heard, but to be
heard, before the Assembly consider whether it be more ex-
pedient to send citations to the Pairtie and witnesses to com-
peir before the Assembly, or if they shall be remitted to their
Presbitries, or the next adjacent Presbitrie, as having Com-
mission from the Generall Assembly to put a finall conclu-
sion to them, and report it to the next Generall Assembly.
The question was moved concerning Doctor Hamiltons
proces, whether it should be heir agitat or remitted to the
Presbitrie, in respect that the Presbitrie had refused proces
alreadie, and it was reported that he would goe shortlie out
of the Countrie P And therefore it was concludit to be de-
cydit by the Assembly.
The Moderatour said-Lett us come to the third Committee
concerning the Service Bookes, Cannons, and High Com-
mission.
Mr Androw Ramsay answered—It is a toylesome taske-a
Papall Service Booke, anti-Christian constitutions, and a
superstitious Booke of ordinations—and will take us eight
dayes at the least.
Moderatour said—Ye would consider that ye are not to
dispute against ane adversarie, but to make such abridgement
of the errours therein contained, as may be seine to such a
grave Assembly.
Complaints against P-relates.
Moderatour said—Ye knaw there be some Complaints
against the Prelats, common against them all—some of them
more personall against Pointes of Doctrine and Conversation:
As, for example, there is a transgression of these Caveats,
and limitations put upon them b the Generall Assemblie
when they wer first admitted to volt in parliament. Matters
of this kind will be so notour as the Assembly at the reading
of the processes, that we will not need great probation; and
therefore the Committies neids not to trouble themselves but
in poyntes of doctrine.
Then were the Caveats red.
The Moderatour said—l would wish that uther some of
them or all of them had been heir to answer for themselves,
and some of them objected, and speciallie Doctor Lindsay,
that these Caveats were put upon them, but Assemblies had ‘
lowsed them. The Bishop of Sanct Androwes. in a Booke

which he calls “The Refutation of a little booke anent the
Government of the Kirk of Scotland,” giving ane answer to
that that is against their booke of the Caveats : he says they
never had a purpose to keip them, but onl to delyver them
from the contentions of turbulent men. his is not red that
ye should give out definit sentence till the whole complaint
be considered by these to whose consideration it is presented;
but there may be an abridgement of the Caveats, and parti-
cular transgressions of them drawn up.
The Shirreff of Teviotdaile said—That these transgres-
sions, many of them be notour to us, yet not to strangers, to
whom the relation of our proceedings shall come; therefore
it is necessar all to be proven.
Moderatour said—It is objected be these that wrote tha
litle booke of the Government of the Kirk of Scotland, which
was sent over to Holland at what tyme the Synod of Dort
was sitting, for weightie Causes and considerations, to pre-
vent evills that might have come in in the Kirk of God : It
is said in that booke, that when they went forward, there
was protestations used against them. He answered, wha
protestation they meaned I cannot tell, but for that Covenant
wherein they please themselves so much, it was rashly and
unadvisedly forged by braine-sicke men, to the destruction
of the King and republict, and to the mocking of God; there-
fore God hes recompensed them with shame and ane unhappie
success of all their interpryses.
Then answered ane Mr Law—That he saw him subscryve
that Covenant that he had so traduced. Then some said
that things alleadged against the Prelats which seemed most
evident neided not to be proven.
Moderatour said—Abundantz'a jurz's non nocet; and it is
necessar when a nation or Kirk would make it manifest to
the world the lawfulness of their proceedings, though it were
never so notour to themselves.
Moderatour said—We have not farder to doe till the Com-
mitties have tane paines and presented their labours to the
Assembly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - . . . . .
The Moderatour said—There would be a Committie ap-
pointed for the considering of these Assemblants, for it is :1
poynt of no small importance.
The names of the Committie-—
Earle of Home, Lords Sinclare, Yester, Balmerino,
Coupar, Cranstoun.
George Gordoune, Mr rThomas Ker,
Lamington, Barclay, James Sword,
George Jameson, Thomas Durie,
Androw Baird, Mr John Robisone.
John Maitland, Mr James Scharpe,
Richard Ingles, Gilbert Murray,
William M‘Kenzie, John Rae,
John Robertsone, John Ker.
Sessio 10.—Primo Decembn's 1638.
After prayer, the Moderatour said—Ye know a great
pairte of these affaires to be agitat this day, was committed
to some worthie men upon a Committie, to be presented to
your view—such as the Confession of Faith, the Complaint
against the Prelats, the matters of the Service Booke, the
auctoritie, or null auctoritie of the Assemblies ; and we tooke
this little tyme to heare some particular complaints against
some ministers, especiallie these who have their proces closed
alreadie, in a manner, and nothing left but the sentence and
determination of the Assembly; for they must be viewed by
you. \Ve should do nothing without awarrand; and I doubt
not but ye are better acquainted with the warrand and ground
of our proceedings nor I can expresse. Ye knowe there is no
familie, nor hous, nor republick—no citie, no kingdome, or
corporation—nor any humane societie, that can subsist with-
out order; and, in the midst of the world, where the Divell
is opposing, and corruption mightilie working, we may be
assured that the integritie of the \Vord of God cannot stand
without Government and ecclesiasticall discipline. Our Lord
gives it the name of the Keyes of the kingdome of Heaven—
a glorious name, indeed; and the Apostle, 1, Cor. 5. calls
it a power committed to the Kirk, not for destruction,
but for edification. In the nature of it, it is not so much
magisteriall as ministeriall power; and, though the power
be great it is principally in his band who is Lord and Master
of the house—the Son of God, who hes absolute power; and
we are but his ministers and servants. Ye know it is re-
quyred in a servand, and especiallle in a steward, (and we
are called stewards and dlspensatoures of the misteries of


680
APPENDIX.


God,) that they be found faithfull. We must stryve to ap-
prove our selves in the Masters sight, who is sett over the
ouse. The power committed to us is very great, if we con-
sider the effects of it. Matthew, ch. 18. the effects of it are
set downe. If we proceed in sentenceing of a man, especial-
lie if we go on that far as to excommunicat him, he against
whom the sentence is pronouncit, is counted a publican; or,
if ye looke the Apostles word—more: he is given over to
the hands of the Divell: he is put out of the Kirk; and,
although it be horrible to think on such a thing, yet the
fruites of it are sweet—for God heirby is glorified ; for
surelie, in despyte of the world and the Divell, he will be
sanctified of these that drawes neare him. The terrible ex-
ample of Nadab and Abihu is a sufficient document of this.
Ye know the Word and the Sacraments are holy and suffi-
cient meanes to convey grace. They should be purged of
inventions that men hes put upon them; and sicklyke that
Gods house should be purged of scandall and leaven, and
these also against whom the sentence passes, if they be not
in a damnable caise and incorrigible, it serves for the sub-
dueing of the fleshe and wakening of the spirit—if there be
any such distinction to be made between the fieshe and spirit.
This is the first and most extreame remedie to subdue the
fleshe and weaken the spirit. So it is necessar, that we now
assembled in Christs name, so solemnlie and so weill War-
ranted, goe on with auctoritie; for, though we be weake and
unworthie instruments, we must consider what keyes he put
in our hands, that hes the keyes of the house of David, that
shutts and no man opens, that opens and no man shutts. I
may give you assurance, in the name of our Lord, that if we
goe on as we are warrandit by Him, without partialitie and
respect to men, but having respect to the honour of God and
weilfair of this Kirk—if we goe on with sentence and excom-
munication, that which we doe on earth he shall ratifie in Hea-
ven, and we shall be all witnesses that he shall ratifie the same.
If there be any of the particular Complaints that are to be
given in, let them be presented heir, to be red be the Clerk.
Mr David Lindsay said— We have met, and thir processes
which are deducit and concludit we have sent the formalitie;
and such as we produce heir, according to our judgment, are
of weightie causes, and formerlie deduced. . . . . . Heir
is ane proces against Mr David Mitchell.
Case of 11/] 7' David Mitchell.
Moderatour said—IV e should have heard truelie with re-
grait of their persons—yea with joy when we see the Lord
putting to his hand to purge his awne house.
Then was the proces red against Mr David Mitchell.
Then Mr Henry Rollock said—It may be thought that he
should now have spoken more of that kynd; but truelie, till
the last dayof his suspension, he was bussie therein; and some
pointes of his doctrine came to our knowledge after the pro-
ces was closed—namely, that it was ane abasement for kings
to be subject to the Word of God; and when he wrote to
us, he carried so much neglect to us, that he called us not
brethren of the Presbitrie, but brethren of the Exercise of the
said judicatorie—alluding it was nomine temts non re. Lyke-
wise he hes declyned the Assembly; but, indeed, it wer a
pittie of him, for utherwayes he hes good partes.
Rothes said—Bellermine had good partes; but he would
be ane evill Minister for the Kirk of Scotland.
The Moderatour said—We heard the proces, and we de-
syre not to proceed to the sentence this day; but we will
heare the judgement of the brethren.
Then was Mr David Mitchell called upon.
The Moderatour said—‘Ne have to consider that this Kirk
hes not been acquainted with Censures of that kind, blessed
be God ! Howsoever, there hes bein a great and lamentable
schisme in this Kirk these many yeares, yet few poyntes of
heresie could be objected against any of this Church who
were verie free of it before; therefore no marvell is that we
Ministers and Elders be not so throughlie acquainted with
their differences as utherwayes we would have bein: but
since the matter is gone so farr on, and corruptions are vented
so braid and wyde in this land, it were meet we were ac-
quainted with them that we may discerne betwixt trueth and
errour, light and darknes ; and if it seeme convenient to the
Assembly, it is good that some Ministers that are best able
make some discourse of this matter, especiallie to shaw
what we hold with the reformed Kirkes, which hath beene
so publictlie contradicted by thir preachours, and how their
tenets contradicts our tenets as the reformed Kirkes. I

know there is ane uther proces against some uthers in
Schooles of Divinitie that hes the same poyntes, and
uthers preachours lykewayes, and it would seeme to
have beene done of purpose, and that they are all joyned in
ane combination together for venting such poyntes of doc-
trine; for there is come doune some poyntes from England,
which were holdin to be the tenets of a great learned man,
and thir preachers seemes to be his schollers.
Then said the Moderatour—Let us heare some moe two or
thrie Billes.
Then there was red against Doctor Panter, Master of the
New Colledge of St Androwes, containing many erroneous
and Papisticall poynts of doctrine.
Then there was read a proces against Mr Alexander Gled'
stanes, Minister of St Androwes.
Then the Committie for Din and Carnaigies Commission
was called.
Mr James Bonar said—If we find that if the last election
had not interveened, the first had beene good; and if the
first had not proceedit, the last had bein good. The first
wants ane act of the Presbitrie and their Subscription, and
so it wants the formall poynt but gives commission ; and the
uther hath proceedit from ane desyre to be electit.
The Moderatour said—It were les prejudice to want the
voices of them both, then to doe any thing that may prejudge
the Assembly afterward.
After lang controversie to and fro about this particular,
the rows were called, and the Assembly voited that neither
of them should have voite.
Sess. ll.——3 December 1638.
After prayer made by the Moderatour,
My Lord Argyle said—Ye remember heir I made protes-
tation that nothing might be done that might seeme to
wrong Soveraigne auctoritie ; for albeit I be not a Member
of this Assembly, yet I have leive to represent my opinion ;
and truelie I will say, I know no better way for you then
every way to cary yourselves modestlie, keeping all dutie
and respect to whom it is due. And I remember of a good
passadge—si tacitus possz't corous. &c.—therefore my humble
desyre to you all, and especiallie to the Ministerie, is, that
ye be very spairing to meddle with the Kings power and
auctoritie—not that I suspect any, but that I hope all knowes
what is my meaning. They are wise I hope who are en-
trusted in this werke, and knowes what is their duetie to a
good and graceous King; and I trust our Master will be wise
in his commands, and so there will be the lesse neid to
meddle with any thing of this kind ; therefore take this ad-
vertisement from me, least any sclander be layd on this
bussines. I am very spairing to insist; but what I have said
it is out of affection to the caus.
Moderatour said—VV e are obleist to the goodnes and pro‘
vidence of our God that hes given unto us so wise and hon-
ourable a Member to sitt heir to give tymous advertisement
concerning our duetie—perhaps rather to prevent that which
might ensue nor to censure any thing that is done ; and sure-
lie we ought to consider, that, altho’ the Kirk of Christ,
especiallie assembled in ane counsell and such ane Assembly
as this, hath very great power, yet they should very weill
observe the limits of their power; for, first, altho’ we have
power to judge betwixt true and false doctrine—altho’ we
have power also to consider the mater of the Sacraments—
the sealles of the doctrine of the life and manners of men
throughout the kingdome, and of the maters of the Policie
of the Government of the Kirke— yet our power is not auto-
cratistical but ministerial and subordinat, and ought to give
the Lord his owne soveraignitie annexed to him, and to give
every one their owne place. Let the Lord have the first
place—we will not give his glorie to another; and let Caesars
have their owne places. And surelie he thocht I spack very
distinctlie of this purpose that said—“ God or his Spirit, speak.
ing in Scripture, is the judge, and that the Kirk is not judge
but index, and that the Christian Magistrat is Vindex; and
so give every one his owne place.” The judgement of
Soveraigntie and absolute jurisdiction belongs to God; and
this is that great Soveraigntie which must keepe us in the
right way, without the which our sillie witts would wander
in the bypaths of errour. Since it hath pleased Him to
manifest his will in his word as if he were among us and
we heare his voyce, we should stryve to decerne his
voyce, and governe our proceedings thereby. Next for the
Magistrat—he is the keeper of both the Tables, and ane


APPENDIX.
681


L—
avenger of the breakers of both ; and we are not to judge so
unc-haritablie and so unreverentlie of our superiors, especial-
lie of him who is in the highest place above us, that he will
usurpe any thing propper to the ord, who is only absolute
Soveraigne. It becomes us to content ourselves with the in-
terpretation of Scripture, or with the indications of it as that
word which I alreadie used imports ; and for that which my
noble Lord hes bein speaking, it becomes us to think rever-
entlie and speake modestlie of superior powers; and I am
sure there is no subject but they will be more carefull to take
heid to their Words and wayes both in pulpits and other
places, nor if the Kings Majestie were present himselfe. I
remember of ane example of ane worthie man in this Kirk
who did oftentymes preach in the presence of King James;
and when the King was absent he alwayes spacke with greater
reverence, and recommended subjectione and loyaltie to all
subjects; but when he was present, he told him all that he
heard of him; and I wish all of us would carry us so; and
altho’ his place or his Commission be emptie, let us thinke
and speake as if one of them were into it : let us carry our-
selves as in the sight of God and of our Consciences which
are both ane; for seeking the approbation of a good Con-
science we approve ourselves to God, and next in his
Majesties sight ; and we need not thinke that the wordes
that are spoken heir will not be caried to him with a worse
sense put on it. If his Majesties Commissioner wer heir
present there neidit no report; but since it comes to passe
that things are made worse, we have so much the more to
take heid to ourselves : and I hope of the Spirite of VVisdome
and Pietie, which teaches all loyaltie and subjection to supe-
riour powers, shall so direct us as there shall be no cans to
censure any man justlie.
You remember, right reverend and weil-beloved, there
ware some thing spoken heir be occasions of a particular
complaint given in against Mr David Mitchell, for mentain-
ing poynts of Arminianisme ; and we desyred ane of our
reverend brethren to speak somewhat for refutation of that
errour.
Here Mr David Dick spoke at considerable length, against
the errors of Arminianism, after which Mr Andrew Ramsay,
at the request of the Moderatour, spoke shortly on the same
subject.
Then the Moderatour said—We have reason to blesse the
Lord for his graceous providence, that, before this errour
spread very far, it hes pleased him to nippe it in the bud;
and God be thanked, who hes raised up some spirits in our
tyme to acquaint themselves with this errour, that they are
able to refute it. I have some tymes heard that there be
two very small poynts, as would seem, wherein this great
errour does consist. They are like two grammarians :
the ane is, whether the word Elect, or, in Latine, Electz', is
nomen, or participz'um. The question is, whether we doe be-
lieve, becaus we are chosen to faith ? They say God chooses
men becaus they believe. we say this—That we are elected
comes from God’s free grace. There is ane uther word about
the signification of ante and pro. They take pro, that Christ
hes died, pro omnibus, for the behove and benefite of all.
\Ve say that it hes ane uther signification, 'vz'ce omm'um—I
meane as Scripture takes it—that is, for all sortes, and if it
be tane vice electorum, they must be saved in whose place
Christ hath died.
Bishop (f Orkneys submission.
M'ter that there was ane Letter from the Bishop of Ork-
ney, and produced by his sone, wherein he submitted him-
selfe in all respects to the Assembly.
After that, Sir Archibald Stewart of Blackhall, as Coun-
sellour, declaired, by Mr John Hamiltoun, his Minister, that
he subscryved the Confession of Faith, as it was first sub-
scryved in the year 1581.
After that, a young Gentleman of excellent pairtes, called

Mr John Forbes, brother-German to Craigievar, who had ,
bein in forraigne countries, and in ane Universitie in Eng-
land long, and drank 1n the love of the customes of these
Churches, and, after he came to Scotland, was confirmed in g
the lyke opinions in Aberdeene, by the Doctors there, and
came onlie occasionallie of purpose to have stayed but ane .
night, and then retired to Ireland; and, seeing the progres
of this Assembly, it pleased God so to work with him that
he was enamoured with it, and, contrare to his former reso-
lution, came in before the Assembly and subscryved the
Covenant.
ill/r David Illz'z‘clzells deprivation.
Then was Mr David Mitchells proces red, and the Acts
of the Kirk was red in the caces of deprivation.
The Moderatour said—There is a difference betwixt the
censures of the Kirk of England and ours. They make a
difference betwixt deprivation, deposition, and degradation.
They say, deprivation takes away his benefice, deposition his
office, and degradation, according to the Priests of old in the
Bookes of Martyres, were degradat when they made apostacie
from the Roman Religion; and they mentained, with the
Papists, that, notwithstanding of all their Censures, there re—
maines something which they call character indelebz'lz's, which
is a certain impression put upon the saule of a man when he
receaves ordination; but they themselves cannot tell what it
is. But censures usit in our Ministers, beside admonition,
ar suspension, deprivation, deposition : Suspension for atyme
from exercising the function of the Ministerie; deprivation
and deposition we take to be ane, becaus, when he is de-
pryved of his benefice, so of his office. There is ane of thir
censures alreadie put on Mr David Mitchell, Minister in
Edinburgh. Now ye have to consider what ye have to doe
further. Ye have heard the proces, and he has declyned
the Assembly, contrare to the Act of the Generall Assembly
at Sanct Androwes, the year 1595.
Then the Moderatour asked Mr Robert Douglas opinion,
who answered» He is clearlie convict of Arminianisme and
many Poyntes of Popery, and the Censure ,of the Kirk is
deprivation for his false doctrine, and excommunication for
declyning the Generall Assembly; therefore, I think this
Assembly should extirpat such birds, least the Kirk receave
prejudice heirafter.
Mr Androw Ramsay said—T hat he promised to forbeare
such doctrine, but did it not; and not only declyned this
Assembly, but used meanes to stoppe the course, by letters
from the Bishop and Commissioner, commanding the Pres-
bitrie to desist from any censure. Therefore he deserves
deposition.
Moderatour said—This is a sufficient ground of a Sentence
against him, that his doctrine is the doctrine of the remon-
strances that they avowed at the Counsell of Dort, contrare
to the doctrine of all the reformed Kirkes, whose Commis-
sioners were there; and consequently to the doctrine of the
Kirk of Scotland; for he defends universall grace, resistabi-
litie of Grace—efiicacie of Christ’s death—apostacie of the
Saints; so he is both convict of heresie, and obstinatelie
glories in the venting of it; and so in respect of his false
doctrine and declinatour, merz'to ejicz'endus.
Then the rows were called, and the whole Assembly voiced
to his deprivation.
Moderatour said—There is none here, I am sure, more
loath to pronounce a sentence of deprivation nor I, who
never did the lyke; yet, since place is given unto me, in
name of this Assembly, and in name of Jesus Christ our
Saviour, I declair, that Mr David Mitchell shall no more ex-
ercise the function of the Ministrie; and, for that whilk is
laid to his charge, he is not worthie of any Ministration of
the word and Sacraments in the Kirk of God, and declares his
place to be vacant ; and ordaines the Presbitrie of Edinburgh
to make intimation thereof in their Kirkes.
Sess. l2.-—December 4, 1638.
After Prayer to God, there was a long and learned speach
against Arminianisme, uttered by Mr Robert Baillie, Min-
ister at Kilwinning.
Then the Commissioners of Edinburgh declared to the As
sembly—Thatthe Citizens of Edinburgh, so soone as they heard
their Ministers had declyned the Assembly, they were in
such a rage against them, that they would neither heare them
preaching, nor joyne with them in their Sessions ; therefore,
they cravit the benefite of the Acts of the Assembly; and
in respect it would have tane up meikle tyme to have heard
the particular clauses of everie ane of them, the Assembly
resolved to delegat some men, who should have full power
and Commissione from the Assembly, to heare and examine
all complaints given in against them, and, if they deserve
deposition, that they shall have alse great power to pronounce
it as the Generall Assembly, according to the Customes of
the Assemblies of the Kirk in former tymes, who may trans-
mit the power by Commission, quoad ad kzmc efiecz‘um,





4 R
682
APPENDIX.


Some Complaints were given in against Mr George Sydeserif
and Mr William Maxwell, quhilk was red, and proces pro-
duced against the persone of Leith, and Mr John VVatsone.
The Commission hes power upon all the forsaids persones in
Edinburgh, Leith, Canongeit, and Dumbar.
The names of the Commissioners-—
Mr John Ker, Mr Androw Blackhall,
Mr James Fleyming, Mr John Oswald,
Mr James Porteous, Mr Robert Douglas,
Mr Richard Dicksone, Mr James Symsone,
Mr Robert Cranstoun, Mr Frederik Carmichael.
Mr Alexander Hendersone.
Rothes, Montrois, Lowthian, Lindsay, Lowdoun,
Balmerrino.
Barons—-
Auldbar, Waughton, Schirreif of Teviotdaile.
Burgesses—
Mr George Gray, Mr Robert Cunninghame,
or any thirteen of them, 7 thereof being Ministers.
are to sitt doune before the end of J anuar.
Then some Ministers were sworne before the Assembly
to depone faithfully to the Committie upon the complaint
against the pretendit Prelats what they know—namely, Mr
James Blair, William Dalgleishe, Androw Andersone.
Then there was a proces against Mr Alexander Gladstanes,
Archdeane of St Androwes ; and the whole Assembly voited
to his deprivation, and the Moderatour pronounced the
sentence.
A detail of the means adopted for packing the Assemblies
of 1608, and that of 1610 held at Glasgow, of 1616 at Aber-
deen, and of 1618 at Perth, (where the Five Articles were
adopted,) and of the sums paid to the creatures of the Bishops
for attending and voting as they were desired, were fully de-
tailed by Mr John Row and others, whereupon—
The Moderatour said—If there be any other brether in
this Assembly that hes any uther particular concerning
Perth Assembly, let them now declair it before it goe to
voiting, and let us doe all out of cleare light, solide know-
ledge, and certane persuasion, that we pas not from it the
nixt day. Ye know what pitiful perturbations and tragical
tribulations has bein upon the urging of these articles, and
we have reason to blesse God, who this day calls them to
examination. I thinke there was four yeares betwixt the
closing of the Assembly and Parliament that ratified it, and
all the tyme betwixt, there could never a certane forme be
gotten of that Act. Alwayes brethren, becaus this is a
matter of importance, and I would have you all fullie per-
swaded in your mynds ; any man that hes anything to say,
he hes now tyme.
The Assembly was all silent, and thereby declared their
satisfaction. Then the rolles were called, and the whole
Assembly, all in ane voice, without contrare voice, declaired
all the forsaids Assemblies to be null.
The Moderatour said—Ye have voited unanimouslie;
and these Assemblies I trust be not only null, but hereafter
shall be a beacon that we stryke not against such rocks;
pathemata anatbemata, nocumenta docmnenta.
Then the Moderatour pronounced, in name of the Assem-
bly, these Assemblies to be null, in these words:
The Assembly heir declaires these Assemblies to be
null—to have no ecclesiastical nor civile authoritie; and
consequentlie whosoever practises any thing under pretence
of their authoritie, shall be censured.
Sess. 13.—5 December, l638.
After in calling on the name of God,
The Moderatour said—We have great reason to blesse
the Lord for these very cleare and sensible demonstrations
of his presence among us, both in veritie and unitie, as we
did sensiblie find yesterday. There is none of us that hes
now assented to the declaration of the nullitie of these As-
semblies, but they can gather such ane appendix as this,
That since these Assemblies ar null, no oath that were
taken of any minister shall have any further obligation ; and
if these pretendit Assemblies had no pretext of ane Assem-
bly, and the rest that were pretendit to be Assemblies, are
declared to be null : and this was ane great pairt of that in-
tollerable tyrannie and yoke that was upon the neck of this
Church ; and since all these things are now in effect dischargit
They
and declaired to be null that were concludit in these Assem-
blies, we ought all to turne to our former practice, warran-
table by lawfull Assemblies and customes of this Church,
and, no more to be acknowledgit, the power of these null
Assemblies. And sicklyke since Presbyteriall power was
tane away by these pretendit Assemblies, their power is now
returned againe; and therefore let all of us use it when we
goe hame.
Mr David Dick said—1 desyre that that may be insert in
the bookes of the A ssembly ; and becaus that some Ministers
are admitted be Presbitries, wham the Bishops refused to ad-
mitt, it wer good it wer ratified in the Assembly.
The Moderatour said—That which they have done in
Presbitries, according to Presbyteriall order, cannot be null.
After this there was a proces produced against Doctor
Hamiltoun, and the executions produced; and the officer re-
ported that when he summoned him, he had him hang him-
self—he was not a treatour to compeir before rebells; and
that he was ane honester man nor any that sat at Assembly.
Then he was called on, and ane day assigned for the wit-
nesses.
Then Mr Wilkie, Henry Stirling, Sir Robert Boyd of
Bonschaw, Mr David Elphingstoun, Mr Hendry Semple
were sworne to declair what they knew against Mr James
Forsythe, Minister of Kilpatrick, to the Commissioner for
the Billes.
Complaint against the Prelats.
Moderatour said—Now let us goe on in this great com-
plaint against the Prelats; and if there be any thing done in
it, let it be accuratelie and orderlie; and that it may be upon
some sure grounds, for our proceedings will be strichted to
the uttermost. .
Yee know there was two sorts of accusationes given in
against them. The ane was generall, and that was the breach
of the Caveats that was put upon them to keepe them. The
Moderatour ‘said—The uther was particular faults against
them. Let us first examine the generall, and be very exact
in it, becaus the examination of ane is a rule of the rest.
There was the Complaint against the Bishop of St An-
drowes red, and it was found that he had sworne the Caveats
at his admission to the Bishoprick of Glasgow, bot he had
not subscryved as the first Caveats requyres.
Mr John Livingstone said—That his father declaired to
him that he was present at the Bishops admission, and heard
him swear; and a little thereafter he went to Court, and
being reproved by King James for swearing of the Caveats,
he purchased a testificat from the Presbitrie of Glasgow that
he had not sworne and subscryved, quhilk was true, being
tane conjunctz'm; whereas he was adstricted to doe nothing
in parliament to the prejudice of the libertie of the Kirk,
but by warrant from the Kirk. It was found that he had
divers tymes voited in Parliament to the prejudice of the
Kirks libertie, but never had a warrant from the Kirk, quhilk
poynts were notour to the whole Assembly, and declaired by
Rothes, Eglintoun, Lowdoun, Mr Robert Blair, Mr David
Dalgleische, Mr John Grahame, Mr James Martine, and Mr
James Sibbald, to be most true.
Moderatour said—Since the Kirk of Scotland, who should
have given him a warrant, is heir, and declaires he had none
from them; and, lykewayes, since he compeires not to shaw
his warrant, it is cleare he never had any. It was also found
that he had sett tacks, and sold patronages to the prejudice
of the Kirk; and diverse noblemen declaired that he had
sold patronages to them, and they said they tooke their
pennyworthe of him.
Lowdoun and the Laird of Blair, Provest of Dunbarton,
and Mr George Young, wer taken sworne to declaire to the
Committie what they knew in this particular.
Whereas the fyft Caution requires residence with their
fiocke, to be present at their Presbitries, the Contrair was
notour to all the Assembly; and the Moderatour declaired
that this 20 year he heard not 3 exercises in their Presbitrie.
The 6 and 7 Cautions were more manifest to the whole
Assembly. The breach of the 8 is evident by their decli—
natour, whereas they call themselves “ the Representative
Kirk.”
Lowdoun declaired—That when our Petitions were framed
and given in to Counsell, the retendit Bishop rejected it,
becaus it bure, “ in the name of) the Kirk and Clergie joyn-
ing with the Nobles, Gentlemen,” &c. The Bishop of St
Androwes answered, “ Whom call ye the Kirk ? A number



APPENDIX.
683


of baggage Ministers, worthie to be banished: ye shall un-
derstand that we are the Kirk.”
This James Cochrane witnessed also ; and Mr James
Bonar declaired that in a Convention of Bishops at Leith,
he heard them say these words : “ They say that they are the
Kirk, but we are the Kirk, and it shall be so; who will say
the contrare ?”
Process against John Crichtoun.
Then there was a proces given in against Mr John Crich-
toun, Minister at Paisley, whilk was red. It contained many
blasphemous poynts, both of Arminianisme and Poperie—
about 48—besyde his scandelous lyfe. Then the roll was
called, and the whole Assembly voited to his deprivation.
Then the Moderatour said—Though it be our parte to doe
what the Lord hes commanded us, we should doe it with
griefe and compassion of heart; for a just sentence may be
pronounced with ane evill heart : notwithstanding, we ought
to have hope that the Lord will give him repentance; but
since ye have thought him worthie of deposition, In the name
of this Assembly, and in the name of Christ, our Lord, I
depose him from all function of the Ministrie, both in doc-
trine and use of Sacraments, and declaires his place to be
vacant.
Sess. l4.—-Dccemhcr 6, 1638.
After prayer to God, there was some witnesses sworne to
give their information concerning the Complaint against the
Prelats; . . . and becaus these persones are witnesses, they
cannot be judges, and therefore they cannot sitt heir as voiters
in that particular.
The Moderatour said—Ye know there was a Committie
of some learned and worthie brethren anent the Service
Booke, Cannons, &c., and we trust their labours shall have
a large approbation of yow. Ye shall heare some of them
red unto yow, which we hope shall give great light unto your
mynds. Take head to them that you may be able, after the
hearing of them, to the voiting, that after the declaration of
your mynd, ane act may be drawen up such as beseemes
the General Assemblie, and that by the auctoritie of this
Assembly, order may be given for printing a Treatise which
may be a guard for the posteritie to come against such evills,
and perhaps for uther Kirkes also; and albeit the laboures
of our worthie brethren take up some tyme in reading of
them, I hope we will not wearie, becaus there are many
notable poyntes of heresie and errour in these bookes; and
since there hes beine great paines taken by the authors of
these bookes thir many yeares in frameing of them, I hope
ye shall find it a well bestowed day, to see the darknes and
errours of them discovered: and I am sure it will be more
delectable for us to heare thir thinges reading, nor to have
bein reading these Popishe bookes ourselves in our churches.
Then there was a large and learned Treatise red by these
reverend brethren that were in that Committie, descryving
the Idolatrie and Superstition of the Service book, the tyran-
nie and usurpation of the Booke of Cannons and Ordination,
and the unlawfulnes of the High Commission, which gave
great satisfaction to the whole Assembly.
The Assemblies condemning the Service Booke and High
Commission.
Then the Moderatour said—Your Honours and Wisdomes
all know how this Church hath bein burdened with these
great weights and multitudes of evills, the service, &0. Ye
know also how a great parte of the Subjects of this King-
dome, of all rankes, did joyne together in a great, peaceable,
and humble maner, and did supplicat his Majestie against
these manifold and great evills; and when at the first, they
had not such great hope as utherwayes they would have wish-
ed, to have beene free of these great evills, how they joyned
together in the Confession of Faith 1580. Ye are acquanted
with the words wherein these same evills are abjured; “ and
becaus efter due examinatione we plainlie perceave and un-
doubtedlie beleive that the forsaids narations and evills,” ivc.
Ye know it pleased the Kings Majestie at last to discharge all
these bookes and High Commission, for the which we have
reasone heartilie to thanke his gracious Majestie; and it hes
pleased God, by the indiction of this present free Generall
Assemblie. to bring us all heir, and is now calling us to give
our judgements concerning these bookes and High Commis-
sion. I did not thinke that any of yow neids any farder in-
formation, both becaus the Kings Majestie hes discharged ,

them alreadie, and becaus it is not the first day that ye have
heard of them, but hath informed yourselfes of the evill of
them or now; and though your judgements had not bein
prepaired by the laboures of our reverend and learned breth-
ren, I put no question but ye would have done it before out
of verie cleare light. Ye know ye must consider whether
these bookes and the High Commission have bein brought
into the Kirk without warrant of the Kirk, contrare, to the
order thereof, whether they containe thinges abjured in our
National Confessione of Faith we have latelie subscryved—
and, in a word, whether they be by this National Assembly
to be condemned? . . . . . - . . . . . . . . . . .
Then the Moderatour stated the question—Whether doe
ye reject or condemne these Bookes and the High Commis-
sion, for the reasons foresaids, or not?
Then the Clerk called the rolles.
Mr Alexander Kerse being first called upon, said—As for
these bookes, sepeliantur sine honore : as they were hatched
and introduced in ane unlawfull maner, let them be buried
with reproach and shame, and send them ad infortunatas
insutas. As for the High Commission, no,tyrannie is of
long durance, and, therefore, with a short cutt, I abjure it.
Mr Thomas Ramsay said—I reject them to the jacks of
eternal destruction.
Mr Androw Cant said—I think the High Commission
like the Spanish Inquisition. I think the Booke of Canons
full of Popishe and Pop-lyke tyrannie. I think the Service
Booke full of superstition and massing Poperie; and I think
that Booke of Ordination, like the beast in the Revelation,
with which none could buy or sell; and, therefore, I abjure
and condemne them all.
Then all the rest of the Assembly, without a contrare
voite, rejected and condemned them all.
Moderatour said—VVe have very great reason to acknow-
ledge the goodnes of God to us, that joynes us together after
such a maner, in giving so ample a testimony to Christ our
Lord, and so large a testimonie against the worke of Anti-
christ in this land; and every one of us should wishe for the
same spirit to goe on with us to the end of the worke.
Then divers of the Assembly desyred that the labour of
these worthie and learned men might be put to the presse,
whilk was promised. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sess. 15.-December 7.
After in calling upon the name of God,
There were some witnesses sworne to depone what they
knew against Mr William Annand—against the Bishop of
Dumblane—and against the bishop of Edinburgh.
Bishop of Dunhell’s submission.
Then Mr James Stewart brought in a letter, and produced
before the Generall Assembly, which came from the Bishop
of Dunkell, wherein he humbly submitted himselfe to the
judgment of the Generall Assembly; and Mr James Steuart
shew ane letter written to himselfe, wherein he had given
him commission to intreat his reverend brethren not to rank
him among the rest of the Bishops, in respect he had neither
subscryved the declinatour nor protestation.
Then there was a complaint given in against Mr George
Halyburtone, and red, wherein he was accused for sacriledge
for declyning the Presbitrie, and for denying some of his
parochiners the benefite of baptisme, marriage, buriall, and
uther benefites of the Kirk. The Assemblie, having manie
weightie and grave matters and affaires in hand, remitts the
same back againe to the Presbitrie of St Androwes, and ad-
joyned unto them, in Commission, the Earle of Rothes, Mr
Robert Douglas, Mr Robert Cranstoune, &c.
Then there was complaints given in against Mr James
Fleck, wherein he was accused for defending universall grace,
who answered that he did never defend it, as a parte of the
doctrine of the Arminians; but only that he said to the gen-
tleman that he should not thinke hardlie of him for that,
because it was the doctrine of the Lutherian Kirk. I con-
fesse I citted two texts of Scripture—John ii. 1, ‘2; Pet. ii,
but I was never of that opinion that Chn'stus mortuus est pro
singulis. The Assembly, finding it would consume much
tyme to discuss the particulars, and that they had weightie
occasions in hand, did appoynt a committie for that efi‘ect—
namely Mr Matthew Brisbane, Mr Alexander Somervell,
Mr John Moncreiffe, Mr John Maitland, and Mr Samuel
Rutherfuird.



684
APPENDIX.

Bishop of Galloway deposed, (go.
Then were the Articles that were approven against Mr
Thomas Sydserfi‘, pretendit Bishop of Galloway, given in;
and it was sufficiently proven and notour to the whole As—
sembly that he was guiltie of the breach of the Caveats,
besyde many poyntes of Poprie and Arminianisme, and many
grosse personal faults.
Then was red the paynes and censures of the Caveats furth
of the Acts of Assembly.
Then the Moderatour said—We must not esteeme of mans
faults according to the worlds estimatione ; for ye know if a
man be not a drunkard, a theiff and robber, &c., in their
estimations he is a good man, whatever fault he has uther-
wayes. But we of this Assemblie ought to thinke uther-
wayes; not that I would extenuat the foir-named faults, but
are to consider their habituall and ordinary transgressions of
a publict law is a great guiltiness ; or, as schoolmen speakes,
spiritualz'a peccata are greater than temporalz'a peccata. So
say I. The preaching of false doctrine, and venemous poy-
sone of that kynde, to bring the people from the trueth of
their profession to Papistrie and Idolatrie, must have a great
censure; and, consequently, the breach of these Caveats by
him, the declyning of this Assembly, and the bringing in of
the Service Booke—which you have alreadie censured and
condemned for the manifold guiltinesse that it hes in the
bowells of it—he deserves no lesse than excommunication.
I remember in the English Church there is a sort of excom-
munication which the Papists call ewcommum'catz'o Zata—that
is, when the man committs the cryme, he shall be declared
to be excommunicat. And there is two sortes of excommu-
nication used in this Church: the one is called summar ex-
communication, and the uther uses to have admonition be-
fore, and is propter contumaciam. Summar excommunica-
tion hath beene used in this Church in two cases, and was
for hynous crymes. The uther was when the Kirk was in
danger by suffering of such a member—as a rotten member
is cut off least it should corrupt the whole bodie. The uther,
which is propter contumacz'am, is knowne to all men. In
respect that this pretendit Bishop of Galloway is guiltie of
contumacie, being cited to compeir heir, and having declyned
this Assembly, his excommunication cannot be called sum-
mar, but propter contumacz'am. It is pittifull to see some
hath such a great conceat of their owne words, learning, and
engyne that they will not be ranked among uthers ; but, as
they thinke themselves above uthers in gifts, so they thinke
they should be advanced above them in place—and, there-
fore, ane ordinary stipend cannot content them; and then
they begin to tyre of preaching and catechising; and thus are
tane away with the pleasures and caires of the world and
idlenes. Therefore ye have to consider What shall be their
censure; and least you eire, ye shall heare some articles that
were gathered out of the Acts of the Generall Assemblies
of the Kirk, as lykewayes ane Act of 9 Parliament K. J a. 6.,
wherein is exprest the censures that is due to them. And
ye shall understand, whatsoever sentence the Assembly shall
thinke fit to pronounce against these, when it is all for their
good—for the destruction of their fieshe that their saule may
be saved in the day of the Lord. But let us remember that
these that are deponed witnesses against them sitt not heir
as voiters.
Then the Moderatour desyred some of the brethren to give
their advyce how they should proceed in that matter.
Mr David Dick said—It is weill enough knowne that
they, having exeemed themselves from ane particular fiocke,
and from the censure of Presbitrie, and acknowledged no
kind of J udicatories but only the Generall Assembly, whilk
cannot alwayes sitt; and, therefore, for the wronges they
have done to Christ Jesus our Lord, and to the poore Kirk
of Scotland, which they have tossed to and fro now these
sixteene moneths; and, notwithstanding that everie sermon
hes bein taught all this tyme hes bein a summonds for them
to repentance, yet doe we see no appearance of _1t,_but a con-
stant ongoing to bring this Kirk to mine—stirring up the
Prince against the people : therefore, my opinion 1s, that we
declair our zeale for the Lord; and that the last. censure
which is the meanes to humble proud men, he g1ven_out
against them though they should laugh at us for so doing;
for since neither the troubling of this poore Kirk, nor our
prayers and teares could humble them, it is good the last
meane be assayed, and solicite God to voiting.
My Lord Lowdon said —The not appearance of these men

upon their citation and declyning of this Assembly, prove
their contumacie.
Moderatour said—Their great guiltinesse is notour to the
world; and yet, notwithstanding of all, they could never cry
so much as peccavz'; and since we excommunicat all that wer
Papists, and disobedient to preachers and pastors, from par_
taking of the holy Communion; since they are guiltie of both,
why should not the Censure pas against them? I will read
some words of a reverend Father, Mr Andro Melvill. “Then
the Bishop of St Androwes was to be excommunicat, he
said, “ That old dragon had so stinged him with avarice, and
swalled so exorbitantlie, that he threatened the destruction
of the whole bodie, if he were not cutt off.”
Then the Moderatour stated the question, which was this
—\Vhither Master Thomas Sydserif, pretendit Bishop of
Galloway, upon things layd to his charge—the breacking of
the Caveats—for preaching of false doctrine, Arminianisme,
and Papistrie, and bringing in of the Service Booke—whither
he shall be deposed and excommunicat, or not?
Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse, being first nominat, answered—I
chanced lately to see ane Extract of ane Act of a Generall
Assembly holden at Glasgow, Appryle ‘26, 1580, wherein is
registrat that the Bishops of Isles, Aberdeine, and St An-
drowes submitted themselves to the Assembly, and I looked
that our oune Bishops should have done the lyke; but instead
of their submission, whereby they might have quenched the
fire that they have kindled, they have addit contumacie; and
the said Mr Thomas Sydserff is I ncendz'a‘rz'us. Solomon says.
"‘ he that breakes doune ane hedge, a serpent shall byte him ;”
and they have brocken doune a hedge, and therefore the ser-
pent of sharpe excommunication shall byte them. And since
he is alse guiltie as any, he deserves excommunication, so
abscz'ndatzu' quem nos perturbatm'.
Then the rest of the names were called; and the whole
Assembly in ane voite unanimouslie did voit to his deposition
and excommunication, except Mr Silvester Lammie, Mr
Andro Ker, Mr Robert Baillie, Patrick Bell, who the morne,
efter advisement, did voit to his excommunication.
Spottiswoode, Bishop QfSt Andrews.
Then the pretendit Bishop of St Androwes was called on
and the proces red, and he proven to be guiltie of adulterie,
drunkennes, preaching of Arminianisme and Papisticall doc-
trine; and for this cause the whole Assemblie voited to his
deposition and excommunication as of before.
Bishop of Brec/zz'n.
\Vhilk being done, the Clarke proceaded in reading of the
Crymes given in by the Committie against Mr Walter
Whytefoord, Bishop of Brechin, consisting of five Articles.
After that thir and manie other faults proved against him
were redde in the Assemblie; ane paper was given in by the
Committie, conteaning the probation of his adulterie with
Aleson Chrichtone, by the circumstances which were done
thereanent; as who had given her money at his instance,
who hes baptized the bairne at his requeist, and sundrie
other passages thereof were their commemorat. \Vhich being
redde, Mr Alexander Ramsay gave in ane paper, conteaning
that ane certaine woman, servitrix to-ane N obleman, had
told him, being to come to the Assembly, that shee had
lykewise borne ane bairne to the said Bishop, but by his per-
suasion had given it to another, which her conscience accusing
her for, she was forced to tell : whilk woman he had warned
to be present at the Assemblie for the probation of the same.
The voyces at last being sought anent his censure, he was
adjudged, as the other two, to be deposed from his office,
Ministeriall and Episcopall, and lykewyse to be excommu-
nicat. After whilk, thankes being given, they dissolved.
Sess. 16.—December 8, 1638.
Lindsay, Bishop of Glasgow.
After prayer to God,
The Moderatour said—\Ve wer going forward yesterday
in the lybell of the Bishops, and the complaints against them.
We began at the Bishop of Galloway and then at St An-
drowes and Brechin, and least it may seeme a neglect that
we are lang in coming to the Bishop of Glasgow, whose
residence is so hard by us, let us goe on to the tryell of him.
My Lord \Veymes said—The Bishop of Glasgow sent ane


APPENDIX.
685




gentleman to me desyreing me earnestlie to speake with him;
and because I could not goe to him before the Assembly, he
intreated me to desyre the Assembly that nothing might be
done anent him till I speake with him.
Moderatour said—It is good for that cause to take some
uther purpose in hand; and since your Lordship desyres that
he may be superceidit, yee shall be pleased to joyne ane or
two discreit Members of the Assembly with you to speake
with him, for it is better to wound ane then to losse twentie.
Confession of Faith—Episcopacy.
Then the Moderatour called on the Committie for the
Confession of Faith, and desyred my Lord Argyle to speake
somewhat anent it.
Argyle said— Becaus I believe occasion may fall out that
I must of necessitie goe to Edinburgh shortlie, therefore I
desyre that the Confession of Faith, wherin I acknowledge
myselfe to be tyed, might be explained before I goe, that I
may both be a witnesse to what is done and be able also to
informe uthers. There are two Confessions. One is the
Confession with the explanation: the uther is the Confession,
that which breids much questioning; some referring the ex-
planation of it to the Assembly. uthers subscryving it ac-
cording to the meaning of it when it was first sett doune, as
the Counsell hes done: therefore it is wisdome to consider
whether ye take it to consideration as a thing fitting and ex-
pedient or not? Or if ye take it (as the Kings Commissioner
and these of good qualitie hes done) as it was first subscryved?
If ye take it to your consideration whether Episcopacie should
be or not, it may be that more disputable; for I confesse I
have never dyvit deeplie in it. Therefore I humbly represent
unto your consideration the lawdable acts and estate of the
Kirk at that tyme, and to consider as in Ecclcsia constitute.
My Lord Rothes said—I thinke it is absolutelie necessar,
in regard that my Lord Argyll is to be at ane Counsell day
shortlie in Edinburgh, where it is like, the Commissioner
will be present, and so his Lordship shall have occasion to
give them satisfaction, if we make such grounds heir as shall
be answerable to explane the Confession that they themselves
have subscryved.
T lciien the Moderatour desyred Lowdoun to declair his
myn .
Lowdoun said—It is sufiicientlie knawne to this reverend
Assemblie what great straites this Kirk was redacted to when
the Popishe Booke of Service, Cannons, &c., now justlie con-
demned, were in'oyned as the only forme of Gods publict
worschip, and t at some of the most sinceare Ministers,
Gods faithfull servands, were chargit, under the paine of re-
bellion, to receave these Bookes, till by a Bill of Suspensione
they obtained some breathing tyme, that men of all rankes
might supplicat against these evills. It is knowne to yow
also, that by the Bishops malice and misinformation of our
Prince, the answer of all our Supplications at Stirling was
returned by a proclamation, under the paine of treason, that
we should not presume to meit any more to prosequute our
desyres ; so that at that tyme we are driven to such exigen-
cie that we behoved either to fall in rebellion and excom-
munication on the one hand, or forfeiting of the way of trueth
and true religion and breach of our N ationall Covenant with
God on the uther hand; and we knew not to what hand to
turne us, till it pleased God to lead us by his light to the re-
newing of our Confession of Faith, which ye know was verie
solemnlie sworne throw this Kingdome; and ye know also
no meanes hes been left unassayed to have rescindit the
same. Then it was taxed to be ane unlawfull combination,
whereof we did cleare it sufficientlie. That our Supplication
of it should be left out, that it might be the more ambiguous
in the interpretation, and therefore it necessarilie at this tyme
requyres ane explanation, and the way that we have proceiclit
therin is this : First, we have drawen up some reasons of the
necessitie of ane explanation to be made; next, that we may
schunne the neidles dispute of Episcopacie in abstracto, and
of these corruptions that were introduced after they were ex-
pelled out of this Kirk, we thought it most necessar to state
the question thus: \Vhither Episcopacie and these corrup-
tions be compatible with the doctrine and disci line of the
Kirk, as it was established in the year 1580 and 581 to ad-
here? And this being examined, we hope it will cleare all
the scruples about the Confession of Faith, and for this purpose
we have drawen up a number of Articles thereanent. . . . .
The Moderatour said—I am glad that my Lord Lowdouns
speach hes come to your ears; and I think that whilk scarres

some most, is feare to offend the Kings Majestie. But we
are sure, when the Kings Majestie sies we make conscience
of our oath, and when it is manifest to his Majestie that we
doe nothing but what is sworne to be done in the Confession
of Faith enjoyned be himselfe, we hope he will think them
good and loyall subjects to him, who have proven so obe-
dient to God.
Then there were reasons heard by the Clerk, showing
how necessar it was that there should be a necessar explan—
ation of the Confession of Faith.
After the reading of the Reasons, the Clerk read all the
Acts of Assembly anent Epispocacy, condemnatory of the
same, after which,
The Moderatour said—Ye have heard a cleare deduction
of this purpose; and if it would please my noble Lord
Argyle, whom I know hes tane paines to be cleare herein,
if it would please his Lordship to declair if he be satisfied,
we would be glad to heare him.
Argyle said—Indeed I cannot deny but all this tyme,
both before the Confession was subscryvit by the Counsell
and since, I have ever found that the question was drawen
much narrower nor it was before; for the greatest question
ever since that tyme hath been only concerning the govern-
ment of the Bishops, and that will be the greatest question ;
and, I think, for the declaration of any uther thing, we did
all show that we could be ruled by yow of this Assembly :
and, since I am requyred to speake, I must not thinke shame
to confesse my ignorance. I neither studied it nor did i
see the Bookes of Assembly, and, whenever I was demandit
of this, I answered I would not determinatelie say anything
till it should come to be considered by a free Assembly, and
find what was the constitution of the Kirk. At that time I
said, for aught I know, I said, it was a lawfull ofiice estab-
lished by Parliament and lawes ; and I could not have thought
even when the Commissioner went away, that things had
bein so clear as they are, and, for my owne part, it satisfies
me fullie—that, according to the Constitution of our Church,
the Government established at that tyme, when it was first
subscryvit, is verie cleare in my judgement.
Moderatour said—There is a lang tyme spent, and there-
fore we will roceed to state the question—Whither, accord-
ing to the Cfonfession of Faith, as it was professed in the
1580, 1581, and 1590, (I keip the words of the Act of
Counsell because it is a clause of the explanation of it,)
there be any uther Bishops but a Bishop over a particular
flocke P or, whether there be any to be acknowledged
Pastor over Pastors, having preheminence over the brethren P
and, consequentlie, \Vhither all uther Episcopacie, place,
power, or preheminence is to be removed out of this Kirk P
A bjnration of Episcopacze.
Then the Rolles were called, and
Mr Alexander Kerse said—The true sentence and mean-
ing of the Confession of Faith being made clear by these
Assemblies, showes a incompatibilitie betwixt Episcopall
Government and Presbyteriall Power, that they are to be
removed and abjured out of this Kirk.
Then the whole Assembly unanimously in one voice, with
the hesitation of ane allanerlie, voited that lipiscopacie
should be abjured and removed out of this Kirk.
Then the Moderatour spack—I think there be nane of us
heir but we have beine oftentymes calling upon the name of
God in secrete and open, that he, and he only who was able
to doe it, would have beine pleased to stay the course of
defection that was going so fast on. And I think there be
nane of us but it was the earnest desyre and wish of, that
we might have sene a day to have taken to a consideration,
whether we have transgressed the Covenant of God or not,
and gane on in a course of defection; and now he has gran-
ted us the day wherein we may call all matters to a reckon-
ing, which day we much long for; and many a tyme have I
myselfe besought God to stop this course of defection, and
so he hes done. Many are the miseries, burdens, and cala-
mities that hes beine upon this poore Kirke thir yeares by
gone; and we are scorned by uthers that it was for the
brecke of the Covenant of God; and we trust that it shall
kythe to the world, when we are dead, that we have turned
unto him and renewed it againe. It rests now that we be
thankfull unto our Lord for the same; and I trust there is
nane of us that are come heir with ane honest mynd, but
they would have bought this day at a deare rate, and given



686
APPENDIX.




a deare pryce for this voiting, whilk God hes done far be-
yond our deserving or expectation — and our adversaries
neid not to say that it was the voites of a number of Gentle-
men and Elders that carried it away; but, blessed be God,
that Ministers and everie ane heir present, with great una-
nimitie, hes gone together without any contradiction, which
is a matter of admiration, and a wonder of wonders, for the
whilk we know not what we shall render unto our graceous
Lord. Therefore we will not medle with any uther purpose,
but goe altogether and give heartie thankes unto our Lord
for this harmony.
Sess. l7.—December 10, 1638.
After prayer to God,
Moderatour said—We must begin where we endit on
Saturday and goe forward in that worke. There is ane great
niountaine removed, blessed be our Lord, who have done it.
Ye know that in the explanation of our subscribit Confession
of Faith, we did oblische ourselves to forbeare the practice
of all novations or approbation of the corruptions of the pub-
lict Government of the Kirk till a free Generall Assemblie,
which hes bein done conscientiouslie by many; and now,
blessed be our Lord, and blessed be he ten thousand tymes !
and great reason have we to bless him more» and I hope the
posteritie that heares of it shall call it a happie work that is
past—hes bein done without any contradiction of the voites
of the Assembly. Now it rests that we goe to the uther
parte—the Inovations alreadie introduced. As for the Ser-
vice Booke, Cannons, &c., the Assembly hes declaired their
judgement of them. By the innovations introduced, I mean,
principallie, the Fyve Articles of Perth Assembly, which
now is null, and, by consequence, they must fall; yet we are
obleist to heare the judgement of the Assembly anent these
novations, and, to the end ye may be prepared for voiting,
ye shall heare something red concerning these novations;
which the Clerk tooke and red. After reading the first con-
cerning Festival Dayes,
The Moderatour said—It is knowne that a festivall and
holy day hes, first, a cessation frae a’ warkes; 2, There is
some service ordained to be done where there is feasting, re-
j oyceing, or hilaritie, as it is called. That commonlie is called
a festivall day. Ye know the Apostles doctrine concerning
these dayes; and, altho’ there hes bein great dispute about
them, I think the brethren heir present are to satisfie what
to think concerning them. There is three words that the
Apostle uses. The first is to judge of a holy day—that is,
to mentaine it in our judgements. The second imports, that
we affect it because we esteime of it; and, thirdlie is, to pro-
ceid from our estimations and affection to observe it. . . . .
But, for us, we blesse God that our Reformers hes gone so
far on as to purge out those dayes from this land. \Ve are
not to judge of uther reformed Churches, but to consider what
is expedient for ourselfes.
Mr John Row said—Truelie I am perswadit, in my soule
and conscience, that, if the Bishops had not beine raised up
amongst us, the memorie of these dayes had bein utterlie
abolisched, both out of their owne hearts, and hearts of people;
and therefore let them goe with the Bishops, in Gods name.
Then the Clerk proceidit in Kneilling at the Communion ;
and, as some things were cited out of the treatise before the
Psalme Booke, printed at Aberden, 1625, where prayer is
made against hyreling Papists, that God would confound
them. In these that are printed at Aberden, Papists are left
out. In ane uther prayer, these words, “ the Romish Idol,”
are left out in reading.
Then Doctor Guild, in Aberdene, desyred that the printer
might macke accompt of it, who had bein the occasion of
that. And after the Clerk had endit concerning kneilling,
These considerations (said the Moderatour) are not pre-
sented to yow concerning the gesture of Sacrament in gene-
rall, or concerning kneilling in uther places, but what we
should think of it in Scotland, according to the order of our
Church ; neither doe we yet begin to dispute the question,
but only this-Whether it ought not to be removed accord-
ing to the Confession of Faith, and according to the order of
the Kirk of Scotland ?
Then the Clerk proceidit in reading concerning the privat
administration of the Sacraments and Confirmation.
Mr John Row said—As for Confirmation, it is one of the
five bastard Sacraments, and is expressed in our Confession;
and seeing Episcopacie is condemned, the imposition of their
handes falles lykewayes.

Moderatour sayes—I remember againe how circumspectlie
and warilie we have gone on in this bussines; not censur-
ing uther Churches, but wishes all thinges may be regulat
weill in our owne Church. Neither goe we to trouble any
mans conscience with idolatrie, superstition, or any uther
thing of that kynd. The question shall be this—\Yhither or
not, accordin to the Confession of Faith as it was professed
in the year I580 and afterward, festivitie dayes, kneeling,
&c., are abjured, and ought to be removed? And if any of
the brethren has any thing to say to cleare this matter, say it.
Mr David Dick said—The first year of my ministerie,
when thir thinges began to be agitat, we wer tryed with alse
subtle distinctions and insinuations as could be ; and, when
the matter was brought before our Presbitrie concerning
preaching at Zuill Day, the question was made, \Vhether it
was lawfull to preach that day or not? Whereupon I re-
solved to take the narrowest way I could to try if there were
superstition in it; and I waited till the people conveined
that day, having no advertisement of any thing to be spocken
from me, but only the ordinar course of prayers. And there
I fand the Kirk fuller than ordinar; quherupon I tooke oc-
casion to preach against the idolatrie that was lyke to break
foorth ; and this I fand to be exponed athort the countrie for a
Zuill preaching; and out of that I learned to make a dis-
tinction betwixt the act and honest intention of some that
were slidden aft‘ their feet ; For they sett downe the act ane
way, and pleadit for them ane uther way, and they were
practised a third way. I speake not this to excuse the wrong
that God hes gotten, but only to excuse some honest mynds
a tamfo onlie - . . . . . . .
Lowdoun said—Not only is the Assembly at Perth, which
gives auctoritie to them, null, but if any fear the sanction of
the civill law, they are ahrogat by it also, and full power
given to present unto the Parliament what ye thinke farder
fitting to be requyred. And for the thinges themselves, let
men think of them as they will. The tries are knowne
by their fruits. What fearfull obstractions they have bein,
usher to all thir thinges that are come since?
Moderatour said » Indeed they have made way for the
Service Booke, and are principall limbs of it.
Mr Androw Ramsay said—I allow altogether and think it
expedient, that these Articles be removed. . . . . . Now for
kneilling at the Communion, it is dissonant to the ractice
of Christ, and discrepant from the practice of the Kirlir. . . .
And for privat Baptisme, it is not to be understood when it
is ministered in the church or at publict prayers, but when it
is ministred in a privat house; ifor in countrie kirks there is
sett doune preaching in week days. As for Confirmation, I
altogether condemne it.
Mr Robert Baillie said—For the removing of the Articles
of Perth out of the Kirk, I heartilie consent unto it; but to
remove them as abjured in the Confession of Faith, so that
t£eyk all shall be abjured who practised them, I doe not
t in .
Then the Moderatour stated the question of new againe,
and desyrit Mr Robert Baillie to tell his opinion when his
voice was speired.
Then the Rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—All these Articles being at
once dead in this Church, had bein revived and preached
again by some unlucky birds, becaus it makes for their pur-
pose ; and the more that stuff abounds, it addes the more to
the vaine lusture and glorie of their Episcopacie. . . . And
so with heart and affection, I send them, and the revivers of
them, both ane way : for they are abjured by the Confession
of Faith, and therefore are to be removed.
Moderatour said—I thinke there is no question; but if
the question had been made to the Generall Assembly when
the Confession of Faith was subscryved, Whither they shall
observe Kneilling, Pasche, Zuill, &c., but many would have
declaired negativelie ; and if ever they had thought that they
should have bein introduced upon this Kirk, they would
have bein more particular in it, albeit the generall is cleare
enough, as it is cleare by the interpretation of the Confession
of Faith according to the Acts of the Kirk, that they are
abjured, and therefore to be removed. And, truelie, consider-
ing the great woe they have brought in this Kirk, we have
verie great reason to rejoyce in God, and to give his Majestie
heartie thankes that hes brought us to this comfortable con-
clusion; and ye may see how comfortable a thing it is for
brethren to meit togither thus in ane Assembly, whereof we
have bein depryved thir many yeares, and that these Articles

APPENDIX.
687





hath bein the caus of this division. It is notour how
many honest and faithfull servands of Christ hes bein
put from the ministrie, to verie hard shifts, and are not yet
admitted, of whom I thinke notice should now be taken;
tlor in all halcion tymes, when sore troubles were blowen
over the head of Gods Kirk, there hes bein still notice taken
of these whom God made sufi'erers ; and ye know how many
of ourselves hes bein threatened to have bein put from our
places; and if they had gotten their will, there had bein few
onest ministers left in the land ; and therefore we have
caus to blesse God that we are delivered from these corrup-
tions.
Then there was a letter produced from the Bishop of
Cathnes, declairing that the caus of his not coming to the
Assembly was his bodilie sicknes and his extreame disease,
wherein he acknowledges the lawfulnes of the Assembly, and
declaires that willinglie he had subscryved the Covenant;
and it was found that he had not subscryvit the Bishops De-
clinatour.
My Lord Weymes declaired—That he had bein at the
Bishop of Glasgow; and he said that the Bishop regrated
that he had put his hand to the Declinatour, and told that he
had intention to come to the Assembly, but the Commissioner
diswaded him ; for Declinatour, sayes he, they urgit him
with it, and he did it in great suddentie, and repents it ; and
said he would take his hand from it were it not that it would
be disgraceful to him ; and when I desyred him to give
two lynes under his hand declairing his submission to the
Assembly, he said he had not his wittis about him, and
desyred the Assembly that he should be dealt with as those
who had submitted themselves. And the Assembly an-
swered, that since he was amongst the suhscryvers of the
Declinatour, he behoved to have his owne place.
Bishop of Edinburgh.
Then there was Articles of Accusation given in against
Mr David Lindsay, pretendit Bishop of Edinburgh ; and he
was called upon and his procurator, and his proces red, and
probations thereof.
Then Mr Androw J affray and Sir John M‘Kenzie declaired
that they saw him how to the altar. Mr Andro Kerr and
George Dundas saw him dedicat a kirk after the Popishe
maner.
Then the Rolles wer called.
And the whole Assembly in one voyce voited to his de-
position and excommunication.
Bishop of Aberdeen.
Then the Bishop of Aberdeines proces was red, and the
probation thereof.
Mr John Row declaired, that he subscryved the Protesta-
tion given in to the Parliament 1606, and that there was no
man more against Bishops in the toune of Stirling nor he;
and he was mightilie offendit at Mr John Grahame, who was
taking a bishoprick; and, since that, all the brethren here
present were in mynd he should be given to the Divell for
betraying the liberties of the Kirk; yet, nevertheles, he was
the man that tooke out the Bishoprick out of Mr John
Grahames hand. I remember when he subscryvit the Pro-
testation, he subscryvit verie neir the end of the paper, and
it began to weare; when he began to get the bishoprick, we
said he was going to loupe the dyke . . . . . . . .
Auldbar and Mr David Lyndsay declaired that they, being
in the Bishops house, when Auldbar said, “ The only meane
to take away abuses and disorders in this Church was a free
General Assembly," he arose in a great flame and passion,
and said, “ The first article that he would make then will be
to pull the crowne off King Charles head.” . . . . . . .
Mr Androw Cant said—There entered a contest betwixt
Craigievar and this Mr Ballantyne, concerning the patronage
of the Kirk of Kinghorne, and was long agitat before the
Lords. Alwayes Craigievar presented a Cusing of his, and
the Bishop impedit him, pretending that the King had the
right, and, consequentlie, the Bishop of Aberdeine. At last,
the Bishop gave Craigievar 160 merks to desist, to the end
that the Bishops some might get the place . . . . . . . . .
Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said— Besyde that he is guiltie of the
breake of the Caveats, there are many grosse faults proven
against him; and therefore, albeit he hes not subscryvit the
declinatour, he deserves deposition and excommunication.
And the whole Assembly voited the samine, except Mr

Richard Inglis, and two or three more, who voited onlie to
his deposition.
Bishop of Ross.
Then the Bishop of Ross was called on, and his procura-
tor, and proces red and the probation thereof.
The Provest of Durnfries said—That when he was in their
toune on the Sabbath day, they expected his comeing to the
kirk; yet he came not, but went to a excommunicat Papists
house, and stayed all day.
Lowdoun said—He was sent up to Court by the Counsel
of the Bishops for the Kirk, that order might be tane for
Papists; and, instead of that, he brought doune Articles
from them, and newis came to this toune to give in the
Bishops Declinatour.
Then the Rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—He is the vive example and
perfyte paterne of a proud Prelat, and enters in composition
with the Pope himselfe; and, therefore, let him have his
due deposition and excommunication. And the whole As-
semblie, in ane voice, voited the same.
Bishop ofDumblane. I
Then the proces against Mr Ballantyne, pretendit Bishop
of Dumblane, and the probatione thereof was red. The rolles
were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—I heard, of late, a notable ser-
mon by a brother in Edinburgh, wherein he sent him to the
land of Nod: and let him be sent there and arreasted there,
with deposition and excommunication. And the whole As-
sembly, in ane voyce, except Keir, voited the same.
Then the complaint against Mr James Forsyth, minister
of Kilpatrick, was given in; and, efter the reading of the
proces, and probation thereof,
The Moderatour said—I think there is two great faults in
that proces; that, upon the Saturday before the Communion,
(at night,) the Sunday morning, he was writting of Summonds
to send athart his paroche; and, upon the Sabbath day efter
the first sermone, when the tables were going to serve, he
brought ane Of‘ficer at Armes to the end of the communion
table, in presence of 1600 communicants, and caused him
reid Letters of Horning. And lykewayes he hes both de—
clyned the Presbitrie and the Assemblie. He is alreadie
suspendit; and, therefore, ye are to give your judgement
whether he merits deposition or not?
Then the rolles were called, and the whole Assemblie
voited to his deposition.
Moderatour said—\Ve hope God shall give him repentance,
that he may make use of his gifts afterward; but for the
present, I, in name of the Assemblie, discharge him from all
function in the ministrie, and declaires his place to be vacant.
Sess. 18.—December ij, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour nominat some for clearing of the proces
against the Bishop of Cathnes: Alexander Monro, Mr William
Gray, Mr George Gray, Mr George Leslie, Mr John Murray
of Pennyland, to conveine at my Lord Eglintouns lodging.
Bishop of Orkney.
The Moderatour said—There are heir two writes come in
my hand concerning the Bishop of Orkney. The ane may
be proven by witnes in this house, and the uther is more
large, punctuallie deduced and subscryved be 1'2 ministers of
Orkney. If the generall satisfie you not, ye shall heare the
particular.
Then Mr George Grahame, pretendit Pishop of Orkney,
was called on, and his proces red, and probatione thereof.
The Moderatour said—Ye see what he hath committed
against all the Caveats, and what tyrranicall usurpation he
hath exercised above the ministrie, and many uther particu-
lars which ye heare in the proces; and, notwithstanding of
this, he hath be his letter offered a kynd of submission to
the Assembly; and, lykewayes, he hes not subscryved the
declinatour, and, therefore, it would seeme that he deserves
not such a sentence as some uthers.
Mr Walter Stewart objected that there was nothing in his
letter which could import a formall submission; but was
rather to be understood of his intention to answer to what
was to be layed against him.
It was answered by my Lord Lowdoun, that it was a ma-
teriall submission, howbeit not formall . . . . . . . . . . .


688
APPENDIX.




Then the Moderatour answered—Whither or not the pre-
tendit Bishop of Orkney, (not having subscryved the decli-
natour, and given in a materiall submission to this Generall
Assembly,) should be deposed, or have any further censure?
T o the which, after calling of the rolles, the Assemblie did
agree; and, farder, if he did continow obstinat, he should be
excommunicat.
Bishop of M array.
Theathere was given in aproces against Mr John Guthrie,
pretendit Bishop of Murray, wherein it was found that he
ad transgressed all the Caveats. It was objected that the
Assembly could not proceed against him, in respect he was
not personallie summondit. The clerk answered that he had
summonded him at the Kirk of Edinburgh and Leith, the
ordlnarie places of citatione in ecclesiasticall causes. . . . .
Mr Androw Cant said he knew him to be a common ryder
on the Sabbath day, and lykewayes that he was a. prettie
dancer, as Mr Thomas Abernethie can testifie. At his
daughters brydell, he danced in his shirt. Lykewayes, Mr
Androw said, that he conveyed some gentlewoman to a
chappell, to make a pennance, all hair footed. This Mr
Thomas Abernethie declaired to be of trueth.
Mr Frederick Carmichaell said, that the Bishop being, by
occasion, ryding from the church on the Sunday morning, he
was desyred to stay all the night, becaus it was the Sabbath
day. He answered, he would borrow that piece of the day
from God, and be as good to him some uther gate.
The Moderatour said—I think, though he hes not sub-
scryvit the declinatour, yet deposition should passe against
him, if the Assemblie thinks it good; and, if he declair his
contumacie afterward, when the sentence of the Assemblie
comes to his hearing, they will declair that he shall be wor-
thie of excommunication.
Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—His not subscryving the de-
clinatour deserves some mitigating consideration. Therefore,
I think he should be deposed for the present, not exeeming
him from excommunication, if he continow obstinat; for he
deserveth both; and the rest of the Assembly voited the
same. . . . . . . . . .
Bishop of Glasgow.
Then the Bishop of Glasgow was called on, and his pro-
ces red.
Mr David Lindsay said—I and Doctor Guild went in to
him, and we represented unto him the fearfull caice he was
in till that he did submitt himselfe to the Generall Assem-
bly, and pas from his declinatour. He began to make a
numeration of the good turnes he had done in favours of this
Kirk against Papists, and requeasted the Assembly, for Gods
caus, that the sentence of excommunication might not be
given out against him till the latter pairt of the Assembly.
The Moderatour said—It would seem that, notwithstanding
the Assembly shall find him worthie of excommunication,
yet, if betwixt the decreit and pronouncing of the sentence,
he shall give his submission, the sentence of excommunica-
tion shall be suspendit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Ministers of Glasgow answered—That there was no
man more violent in urging the Service Booke, &c.
Mr Alexander Spittal declaired that the said Bishop did
transport two Ministers at his oune hand, without the advyce
of the Presbitrie or Paroches. Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—My opinion is, that he be pre-
sentlie deposed, and, if he did not submitt himselfe to the
Assemblie before it end, let him be excommunicat.
Then the rest of the Assemblie voited that he was worthie
of deposition and excommunication, but that his excommu~
nication should be delayed, to try if he would submitt him-
selfe.
Bishop of Argyle.
Then the pretendit Bishop of Argyle, Mr James Fairlie,
was called on, and the Articles proven, before the Committie,
wer red : whereon it was found that he had broken the Ca-
veats, and uther guiltinesse beside.
Moderatour said—There are diverse degries of guiltinesse,
and, proportionallie, there should be degries of censures; and,
if the Assemblie thinke good, let these be deposed, and, up-
on their repentance, let them be receaved to the Ministerie.
Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—It is said of one that he was so

vigilant a Consul that he sleeped nane all his tyme, for he
was entered in the morning and put from it ere night. So
was it with this Prelat; for he slepit but few nights in his
Episcopall nest, and was not weill warmed in his Cathedrall
chyre, whill both chyre and cuschane was taken from him.
Therefore, depose him only; and, if he obey not the Sentence
of the Assemblie, let him be excommunicat. The Assem-
blie voited the same.
Bishop of the Isles, cS’O.
Then was the Bishop of the Isles called on, and his proces
red. The rolles being called, the Assemblie did all agrie to
his deposition; and, concerning the order of his repentance
or excommunication, let it be thought upon afterward.
The Assemblie concludit that the Billes should come in
only according to the order of the rolles . . . . . . . . . . .
Then there was a proces given in against Mr John
M‘Naught, Minister at Chirnsyde; and, after the calling of
the rolles, the Assemblie voited that, for deserting of his
Paroche, declyning his Presbitrie, and preaching of Arminian
doctrine, he absolutelie should be deposed, and his kirk de-
claired to be vacant.
The proces against Mr Francis Harvie was referred to the
Commission at Edinburgh.
Then Mr Thomas Fosters proces was given in, containeing
many grosse and blasphemous poynts; and, after the calling
of the rolles, the Assemblie voited that such a minister as he
should be put off in a singular manner, and deposed from the
ministerie.
Sess. 19.—12 December 1638.
Bishop of Dzmhell.
After prayer to God, there was a letter red, from Mr
Alexander Lindsay, Bishop of Dunkell, wherein he had
declaired, that he had subscryved their Covenant—-that the
Assemblie was lawfull—and that he submitted himselfe to
it, and supplicat the Assemblie that he might die a Minister
at Lyneydors. After that his proces was red,
The Moderatour said—Ye heare what is said against him
-—the common Episcopall transgressions, and many grosse
thinges besyde ; and it would seeme verie hard that he
should be continowed in the Ministerie, except he make his
publict repentance, and make some discourse of the Corrup-
tions of the Kirk; and, if he be not able to come to the kirk,
let some brethren of the Ministerie, of the gravest number,
he sent to him to be witnesses of his recantation and repen-
tance. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mr Androw Cant said—I lyke the Bishops notion weill,
that desyres to die a Minister; but it is to be feared that he
have respect to his owne credit and meanes, as in former
tymes, and so many poore saules disappoynted.
Mr David Dick said—If we believe that Episcopacie is
such a wrang to the Crowne of Christ Jesus, and to this Kirk
of Scotland, and we believe that the making of so many saules
to starve yon way, it is a bloodie sin before God. We must
have a speciall cair of restoiring God to his honour; and,
therefore, how sicke soever he be, he can write a letter of his
full dimission and repentance, utherwayes let him be deposed
and excommunicat.
Lowdoun said—~Howbeit he had sent a formall dimission
to the Assembly, it is necessar to use deposition, and, I
thinke, what is done heir should be drawen up and sent to
him, that he may make his dimission formall, and may re—
stoir what he hes wrongouslie detained pertaining to the
Kirk.
After much reasoning to and fro,
The Moderatour stated the question—\Vhether or not upon
his dimission, which is singular, he shall be deposed, not only
from his Prelacie, but from all function of the Ministerie?
Then all the rolles were called, and all the Assemblie except
20, resolves upon this—That he shall be deposed from his
Episcopacie; yea, and from the exercise of all Ministeriall
function, till such time as he satisfie by his paines these who
are sent unto him by the Assembly . . . . . . . . . . . .
Bishop of Cathnes.
Then the Articles against the pretended Bishop of Cathnes
was given in. After the reading thereof, there was some of
his noble friends desyred that he might be continowed in the
functione of the Ministerie since he has acknowledgit the
Assembly and subscryvit the Covenant.
Lowdoun said—He behooved to be deposed and suspendit



APPENDIX.
689



from any function of the Ministerie, till he take him to a
particular flock.
The Shirrefi' of Teviotdaile said—That he was willing to
have tane him to the Ministerie, but the High Commission
put him from it, and would either have him keip his Bishop-
rick or quyte them both. Lykewayes, within this short tyme,
there was a fast indicted for the good of the same cans, and
Mr James Burnett, the Minister of the Paroche, would not
keip the fast. He keipit it in his own house, and a number
of the Paroche resorted to him, and he may doe good in that
Paroche, for the people hes a love to him, and a great detest
to their Minister . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Moderatour said—The question is concerning his de-
position; for I thinke ye doubt not of his Episcopall ofi’ice;
but whether he shall be deposed from all function of the
Ministerie?
Then the rolles were called, and the whole Assemblie
agried upon his deposition from his Episcopall office; and,
upon his repentance, to be admitted to the Ministerie. . . .
Moderatour said—There are a number of the Bishops who
are ordained to be excommunicat, and now we are to con-
sider the time when it shall be done—the persones that shall
pronounce the sentence—the place where—and the maner
how it shall be done; or whether the sentence shall be de-
layed any longer or not P
Lowdoun said—The delaying of the sentence would seeme
to be verie prejudiciall. For these that are absent out of
this toun, there is no appearance that we shall get them to
deall with; neither is there any appeirance of their repentance
as yet who hes subscrivet the declinatour: And becaus we
know not what interruptions may be shortlie, it is good to
make use of the occasion which God, of his great mercie,
offers to red his Church of them; and it is the justice of God
recompenceing their pride, on the ane hand, and the trumpet
of his mercie to recall them to repentance, if it be possible,
on the uther hand; and so the delay of such a good worke
seemes to be verie dangerous. As for the place, where ye
are seemes to be verie fitt; and for the persone, doubtlesse
it must be yourselfe who is the mouth of this Assembly, to
pronounce the Judgement of the Assembly against them,
that this Kirk may be delyvered from the thraldome it
was 1n. .
The Moderatour said—There was no practice of the Kirk
for that, and that Bishop Adamsone was not excommunicat
by the Moderatour of the Assembly.
Nevertheless, the Assembly desyred that the Moderatour
nimselfe would take it upon him, and that he should delyver
a Sermon in the same church the morne at Ten hours, and
let them be excommunicat. This was concludit be the con-
sent of the whole Assemblie . . . . . . . . . . . . .
This day being fixed for the solemn Deposilz'on of the Pre-
Zates, the Moderator, Mr Alexander Henderson, took for his
text, Psalm cx. l:—-“ The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit
thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy foot-
stool ',” and though he had only the evening of the previous
day to prepare himself for the important subject he undertook
to handle, he preached an eloquent and impressive discourse
on the Scriptural Constitution of the Government of the
Church of Christ; applying the principles laid down, to the
defence of the Presbyterian Model. Thereafter he pronoun-
ced the following Sentence of Excommunication.
“ Since the eight persons before-mentioned have declared
themselves strangers to the communion of saints, to be with-
out hope of life eternal, and to be slaves of sin, therefore we
—the people of God, assembled together for this cause—and
I, as their mouth, in the name of the ETERNAL GOD, and of
his SON the LORD JESUS CHRIST, according to the direction
of this Assembly, do excommunicate the said eight persons
from the participation of the Sacraments, from the commun-
ion of the visible Church, and from the prayers of the Church;
and, so long as they continue obstinate, discharges you all,
as ye would not be partakers of their vengeance, from keep-
ing any religious fellowship with them; and thus give them
over into the hands of the devil, assuring you. in the name
of the Lord J esus, that except their repentance be evident,
the fearful wrath and vengeance of the God of Heaven shall
lasting vengeance." . . . . . . . . . . . . .
After in calling upon the name of God,

A noble Lord, my Lord Montrois, who did formerlie
undertake, for my Lord Wigtoune, that he would come and
declair his meaning to the Assembly anent his subscryving
to the kings Covenant, did give in a letter of excuse, come
from my Lord Wigtoune, wherein he declaires that he is
myndit to come to the Assembly whensoever his busines can
permitt him, and give them all satisfaction.
After this, there was ane proces produced against Mr
\Villiam Annand, sometyme minister at Air, for maintaine-
ing saints dayes, and many poynts of erroneous doctrine. . .
Mr John Fergussone and the Provest of Dumbartone, gave
a large testimony of his scandalous lyfe and erroneous doc-
trine. Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—I know he subscrivit our Cov-
enant, and efter resedit from it, and so he provit a Proteus,
c/zangez'ng himself into allfigures. Therefore, let him be de—
posed and then he will be ina figure that he was never in before.
The whole Assemblie did all agrie that he should be de-
posed, and the way and order of his censure to be remitted
to the Presbitrie of Air.
Mr Andro Rollock gave in his supplication, declareing
that out of meir ignorance he had subscrivit the Declinatour,
being brought up with the Constitution of England Church;
but now, having gotten farder light from God, and intelli-
gence from Acts of Generall Assemblies, with greifl' of heart
and conscience, declynes it altogether, and adheres to the
acts and constitutions of this present Assembly; and, there-
fore, did earnestlie supplicat that he might deleit his name
from the declinatour, which the Assembly grantit, upon con-
dition that he should make publict declaration of his recanta-
tion in his paroche kirk, which he willinglie condiscendit unto.
Lowdoun said that the favour granted to him who had
been brought up in the Kirk of England, should not be a
preparative to temporizers among ourselves, and so is pure
negations, and uthers are prave dispositions, or wilfull igno-
rance.
The Moderatour said—Fra we be delivered fra these dis-
eases that hath oppressed the whole bodie, I hope we shall
have greater health hereafter; for laying aside aines the hope
of Episcopall dignitie and the fear of Episcopall tyrannie, I
hope men shall labour to be more carefull and faithfull in
their ministrie; and since God hes moved your heart, Mr
Rollock, to declyne your declinatour, I hope ye will not stand
to give the most publict declaration that can be; to whilk he
willinglie condiscendit.
After this Doctor Hamilton, procurator for the Bishops,
was called on, and the proces red and the probation thereof.
Then the rolles were called.
Mr Alexander Kerse said~—He hes bein verie strict in ur-
gin g their no vations, and he hath bein verie ofiicious et m'mz'um
diligentice in agitating: therefore, since the trie is cutt doune,
let the woodbine fall with it and be buried: therefore let him
be deposed.
The whole Assemblie voited the same.
The Moderatour said—Since this Assemblie finds that he
deserves deposition, I, as the mouth of this Assembly, dis-
charges him from all function of the ministerie, exercise of
discipline, or administration of the Sacraments, and declaires
his place to be vacant; and ordaines him to make his repen-
tance at Edinburgh, and if he disobey and did not passe from
his declinatour, that they should proceed against him to ex-
communication.
Then there was a proces given in against Mr Thomas Mac-
kenzie, Archdeane of the Chanonrie of Ros, who for his for-
nication, drunkennes, marrying of adulterers, &c. After the
calling of the rolles, the Assembly voited to his deposition,
and if he did not satisfie in repentance, that he should be
excommunicat.
Mr George Muschet, minister of St Androwes, called upon
and his proces red, and delayed till the next day.
Sess. QL—December I4, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
Mr John Smart showed his Commission from Caithnes, to
the end he might have voit in the Assembly in the place of
the former commissioner, who is gone hame sick, which was
accepted, and his name written in the roll.
Then Mr Androw Sheipheard declaired, that of meir igno-
rance he had subscryvit the declinatour, and was deiplie
overtake them even in this life, and, after this world, ever- i humblit for his oversight, and protested solemnlie that except
i that ane oversight he‘ did never, nor never would give way
to any div'sive motion; and therefore desyred earnestlie that




4 s
690
APPENDIX.


he might raze his owne name out of the declinatour, which
the Assemblie granted, and ordained him to make significa-
tion thereof in the pulpit of Dundie.
Moderatour said—It is expedient, if the Assemblie think
good, to appoynt Commissions through the Kingdome, for
discussing of Complaints and Lybells given in against Min-
isters. Then the Assembly appoynted Commissions in sev-
erall places of the Kingdome.
The Moderatour said—If the Church were well established
in her owne power and jurisdiction, there could be no neid
of such Commissions; therefore, let us labour to get the
ancient jurisdiction of the Kirk restoired to its full power,
and Presbitries, Provinciall and N ationall Assemblies, to
their owne jurisdictione: for the Generall Assemblies cannot
give to the Commissions to consider new processes, but such as
they cannot convenientlie decyde themselfes, and in such partes
of the countrie where Provinciall Assemblies cannot be had.
The Moderatour said—We have beine treating hitherto of
matters of verie great importance, howbeit, it hes bein only
a primitively sort of dealing; and now we are to fall upon
positive acts. Therefore, I will intreat yow to renew your
former patience in waiting upon a comfortable conclusione to
this worke: for having banished out ane evill order, if we
labour not for ane good order, it may justlie be said, ane evill
order had beene better nor name; and therefore resolve to
stay till some good order be established, that ye may know
how to carry yourselfes in tymes comeing. Next, there 'is a
verie great necessitie upon many considerations, that there
be something done concerning the Confession of Faith, that
hes beine subscryvit with the explanation of it; and concern-
ing that Confession alse subscryvit by some few at command
of the Counsell; and it were good that some few were separat
for it that if it were possible—
Lowdoun said that there is something emergent now lately
come foorth, that gives the greater reason to aveir to that
poynt; for now, when the Assembly hes interpreted the Con-
ession, to whom only it was referred as competent judge,
and lykewayes many of the honourable Counsell having de-
claired their meaning is to keepe in these things that are con-
trarie to the Assemblies explanation, so there is a necessitie
of some further explanation for takeing away of all scruples.
In the meane tyme, my Lord \Vigtoune came and declaired,
in the face of the Assembly, that he had put his hand to the
Confession of Faith out of a resolution to adhere to the re-
ligion in doctrine and discipline, as it was professed in 1580,
when the Kirk was in puritie; and this I speake not out of
ostentation, but from certaine knowledge and zeale to Gods
caus, and will adhere unto it whilst a droppe of blood re-
maines in my veins.
For the which declaration, the Moderatour and whole As-
semblie rendered his Lordship heartie thankes, praying God
to assist his Lordship so to doe.
After this the Moderatour said—I perceave there is a uni-
versall regrait among Ministers who are put to the extraor-
dinary charges by coming from Oorkney’, Caithnes, Suther-
land, and uther remote places, that their meane portione is
not able to beare. Therefore, I desyre that some course may
be taken how their charges may be provydit, that they may
attend the Nationall Assemblies and uther meetings of the
Kirk, since they have a great zeale to give a testimonie to
the trueth. Therefore, I would desyre the Noblemen and
Elders to consider of it; and I hope it shall not be interpreted
to be bryberie where there hes bein too much in former pre-
tendit Assemblies; and we are now stryving to returne to
our old customes used before Episcopacie, some whereof we
have begun—as this of Ruleing Elders to have pairt with us
in guyding the atfaires of the Kirk, which how profitable a
thing it is, may appeare by the much helpe that hes contri-
buted to us this year past. Neither neid we feir thir usur-
patione, since we hope for Generall Assemblies to beat doune
corruptions of that kynd.
My Lord Lowdoun said—It deserves to have a present
course tane for it, and its certane the Generall Assemblies is
but the representative Kirk of this Kingdome. Everie Min-
ister that comes heir, comes not as a Minister onlie, but re~
presenting the paroche or Presbitrie they come from; and
therefore it were fitt that the Elders and paroche did beare
the burdene of their charges.
Balmerino said—That was one of the overtures which they
had to give in, and therefore would come in to be considered
heirafter.
Then Mr George \Vischart, Minister of St Androwes, was


called on, and his proces red, wherein he was accused for
rayling against the Covenant, and saying that he should never
come in his pulpit if the Covenant were red in it; lykewayes
that he had maliciouslie deserted his flocke for the space of
8 monthes, whereas the Act of Dundie heares deprivation
upon 40 dayes absence.
Lowdoun said—“His non residence will be suflicient to
depose him; and the question is only that he was not cited;
but, according to the Act, his non residence will depose him
absolutelie, becaus he went away without advertising the
Generall Assemblie.
The Moderatour said—It seemes to me that it will be hard
for the Assembly to declair his place vacant; but, if St An-
drowes will take the hazard to find out ane uther who will
be willing to supplie his place, they may doe it; for there
must be either dimission or deprivation before it be now
filled there. There can be no sentence of deprivation against
him, till he be either cited, or his proces closed before the
Presbitrie; and, in the meanetyme of the proces going on
against him in the Presbitrie, and citation used, if be com-
peare, it is thought he can give no sufficient reason, and so
will be worthie of deprivation.
The Assemblie condiscendit to the Moderatours motion,
and appoynted that Sanct Androwes shall provide for them-
selves a Minister, and that Mr George W ischart, upon such
considerations, shall be cited, and the Presbitrie to proceed
against him.
Then there was a supplication presented from St Androwes
for provyding of their Ministery, and many pregnant reasons
used by them, wherefore they should have ane able Minister,
and that their necessitie was considerable, in respect of their
corrupt Universities, and the dangerous fruites that a corrupt
Ministery had brought foorth amongst them. Then it was
asked whom they had sett their eyes on, and the Commis-
sioner from St Androwes nammat Mr Andro Flock and MI
Alexander Hendersone.
The Commissioner of Edinburgh answered—That he had
commission from the town of Edinburgh to supplicat for the
transportation of Mr Alexander Hendersone to Edinburgh,
alleadging lykewayse that the touue of Edinburgh had the
priviledge of being first provydit in their Ministerie.
Moderatour said—Let there be no contest for me, for I
have bein thir ‘24 yeares Minister at Lewchars; and now I
am growing ane old, withered, and dry tree, and it is pittie
to transport such a ane, least it bring foorth no fruite. And
I doe declair ea’ am'mo to this Assembly, that, although I
have ane earnest desyre, if I had any thing in me to imploy
it for the good of the Kirk of Scotland, yet I think I am
able to doe more good heir where I am nor any where els;
therefore I intreat the Assembly that some may be appoynted
to hear my just reasones that I have to give in, why I should
not be transported.
Lowdoun said—Becaus the desyre of the parties will be
eager on both sydes, therefore, let some indifferent men be
chosen by the Assemblie to heare the reasons of the Com-
missioners of Edinburgh and St Androwes both, and your
owne reasones lykewayes.
The Commissioners of Edinburgh objected, that there could
be no committie chosen for that effect, becaus they had al-
readie chosen him to be their Minister, and, lykewayes, they
had the priviledge to transport any Minister of the kingdome.
Mr David Dick, Mr Andro Cant, Mr James Bruce was
ordained to name a committie.
Then there was a proces given in against Mr Hary Scrym-
soure, wherein he was accused for abuseing the church yaird,
break of the Sabbath day, and for venting of sundrie tenets
of false doctrine.
The said Mr Hary gave in a most humble supplication,
and, with many teares, confessed sundry of his faults, and
shew himselfe to be penitent, that he was most willing to
undergoe whatsover censure the Assemblie could lay upon
him, to restoir God to his glorie, humblie supplicating that
he might be continowed in the Ministerie, and not depryved.
The lairdes of N ewtoun and Waughtoune, his parochiners,
urged still his deposition, according to the Acts of the Kirk.
Moderatour said—That it were good that he give a testi-
monie of his unfenzied repentance to his parochiners, and
stay with them and build up that whilk he had throwine
doune, if his paroche could consent.
N ewtoun answered that he might be profitable in ane uther
place, but he could not be profitable there.
My Lord Burlie said—~I wishe this Assemblie may doe



APPENDIX.
691





everie thing on good grounds; and, for my owne parte, I
cannot be satisfied unles he be deposed, and, upon his repent-
ance, let him merite favour.
Moderatour said—If he be deposed, I hope he shall not ,
find the weight of it long; and, since this Assemblie can find ~
no uther way for him but deposition, let him make his re—
pentance, and come in before the Presbitrie, and receave a
warrand from the Presbytrie, and preach any where, and, at
the first occasion of a paroche, receaved and admittit; and
let us joyne together to help this our penitent brother where
he may have a ministerie.
Then there was a proces given in against Mr Robert
Hamilton, Minister at Lesmahago, and the probation thereof
before the Presbitrie of Lanerk; and it was found that he
had brocken the Sabbath, and taken lends from his paroch-
iners; deteined the penalties of delinquents; banished some
of his parochiners out of his paroche for not kneilling at the
Communion; that he had preached Arminianisme, and de—
clyned the Assemblie.
Mr Alexander Somervill said that he behaved himselfe
verie undecentlie before the Presbytrie, and called some of
his parochiners dehoasched villanes, in face of the Presbitrie.
Moderatour asked—If he did cleare himselfe before the
Presbitrie concerning Universal Grace?
Mr Alexander said he gave in ane writt to the Presbitrie;
but we layd it by in respect it contained not a direct answer,
but was full of subterfuges and dubious expressions, and he
alleadgit that he ventit it only by way of disputation.
The Moderatour said—“Then he passed his tryells in the
Colledge of St Androwes, he was suspect of it, for he was a
scholler of \Vedderburnes; therefore the Presbitrie ordained
him to make his theames upon that poynt, and they wer
compted orthodox; but it is not well favoured that he yet
smellis of it.
Lowdoun said—There is ane thing cleare in his challenge,
and he grants it—that he hes tane the defence of these arti-
cles anent conformitie, and hath made it a reasone of putting
many of his people out of his paroche, and surelie there was
never any of them refused to joyne with him but out of con-
science, and still he tooke penalties from them to wearie
them. '
Moderatour said—There is no question but he hes bein
verie forward in these causes; alwayes some of his friends
lookes for him this night; and since it is the chief of all our
desires to gaine the man, let us use no preposterous course,
but delay this matter till Monday.
Mr James Flecke having produced his theses before the
Assembly, according as he was ordained the day before, an-
ent the universalitie of Christs death, the Assembly ordained
him to goe home to his congregation and Presbitrie, and sa—
tisfie them in alse solemn a manner as can be, and declair to
them this judgment of the Assembly ; and if he failzie here-
in, that he be summonded before the Commission at
Dundie.
A question was proponed to the Assembly anent Mr R.
Nairne, minister at Carmichael, who, being imposed upon
the paroche lately by the Bishop against the heart both of
the paroche and Presbitrie, is now fallen in a ffrenzie, and
hes lyen under the phisicians hands ane quarter of a year ;
and the paroche desyres the Assemblies verdict of it. The
Assembly committs to the Presbitrie.
Doctor Panters proces was produced and delayed till the
morne.
Sess. 22.-—D6('P772])P)‘ 15, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—\Ve were speaking of ane of the
Doctors of Divinitie in the Colledge of St Androwes, viz.
l)r Panter. His proces was red the last day in the A ssem-
bly, and if ye will, ye shall heare it againe. The trueth is,
he was oft tymes called before the Presbytrie, but did never
compeir; and therefore ye have to consider whether his pro-
ces shall be red over againe and decydit heir, or referred to
the Commission of St Androwes.
Auldbar says—He thinkes himselfe to be a pryme man,
and the sentence heir will stryke more against him then the
sentence of any privat Commission. Let this Assemblie
judge if such a man should be a Doctor of Divinitie in ane of
the most pryme Colledges of this Kingdome?
My Lord Balmerino said—“Te have beine searching over
the Acts of the Assemblies, and we find that which may be
discussed in Presbitries or Assemblies provinciall, shall not

trouble the Generall Assembly, and this Act I desire the
Clerk to read
After the reading of it,
The Moderatour asked some of the brethren whether his
proces should be closed heir or referred to the Commission at
St Androwes P
Mr Robert Douglas, Mr Androw Cant, Mr Robert Baillie
answered—There are alse grosse and vyle thinges proven
against him as might merite deposition heir, yet let him goe
to the Commission at St Androwes.
Then the Commissioners of Edinburgh presented a Sup-
plication from the toune of Edinburgh, for provision of their
kirkes with able ministers, alleadging that they not only had
the priviledge to choyce their ministers, but lykewayes that
their Bill should be first heard.
The Moderatour answered—The Bill of St Androwes hes
bein first heard alreadie, and therefore it is reason that some
answer be given to it, and becaus my name was heard in it,
I desyreit my thrie reverend brethren, Mr David Dick, Mr
Androw Cant, Mr James Bruce, to thinke on it. I hope
they will heare my reasons, and by my reasons they will give
satisfaction to the Assembly, to whose judgment I confesse I
must submitt myselfe ; but I am verie confident of their
wisdome and prudence, that they will heare me to the full in
such a matter that concernes me so nearlie.
Then the Supplication of the toune of Edinburgh was put
in the Clerks hand and red, containing many pregnant rea-
sons for provyding their kirks—as that Edinburgh was most
exposed to the tryell of the corruptions that are imposed upon
this Church —that they were the centure of this kingdome—
that they were the learnedest auditorie in the kingdome-—
that much dependit upon their example of yielding or not
yielding to the corruptions of the tyme—and that her example
prevailed with many uthers, as appeared at this tyme bypast
—that her Presbyteries was ever esteemed the most pryme
in this Church ; and for that cause, the indiction of the dyer
of Assemblies hes bein committed to it :—That she is first
subject to all temptations, as hes appeared by urging the
Service Booke first upon her—the resorting of Noblemen,
Ministers, &c., and their continowall meetings is there. By
all thir, and many moe reasones, neidlesse to be relaited heir,
did they urge the transportation of Mr Alexander Hender-
sone from Lewchars to Edinburgh.
Moderatour said—I will never goe to answer any of these
arguments used heir with such multiplication, and a great
deall of rhetorick, for provydeing the toun of Edinburgh—for
it is verie reasonable it be weill provydit; but for my oune
parte, all these reasons doe deswade me from granting their
desyre; and since there is such great thinges requyred of a
minister that is there, surelie my insutficiencie makes me
thinke everie argument militat againes my going there, how-
soever they be strong for provyding the toune of Edinburgh.
Then there was some brethren appoynted for hearing of
Mr Alexander Hendersone his reasons, that they might pre-
sent them to the Assembly the next day.
Sess. ‘23.——Deccmber 16, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
Moderatour saidfl-“ie were yesterday about some Com-
plaints; and it is expedient that they should be considered
in Provincial Assemblies whether they might be heard ; and
where they might not he heard, that they should be consid-
ered b Commissions appoynted be the Generall Assembly.
And think it will be hard to get Provinciall Assemblies
constitut as could be wisched; therefore it feares me there
must be both—that is, Commissions for dispatching thir great
matters in hand, and lykewayes Provinciall A ssemblies, which
is to be thought upon by the Assemblie when they shall be
had. Only I would heare the judgement of the Assemblie—-
it being a universall thing for the good of the whole Church.
and likewise a redding of us of the burdings of many parti-
culars.
My Lord Cassiles said—‘Ye looke for a Generall Assem-
blie so shortlie, that it would seeme no neid of Provinciall
A ssemblies before the Parliament, becaus ministers who
have attendit heir so long cannot spend all their tyme in
going to Provinciall Assemblies ; and in the meane tyme, let
Commissions he despatching matters.
Then the Commissions were appoynted.
Then Mr David Lindsey, Mr John Robertsone, and uther
aged men in the ministerie, were appoynted to take inspec-
tion of the Bookes of the Assemblie, and to try wher thir


692
APPENDIX.


provinciall Assemblies hes bein holden, which accordinglie
they did, and gave in a roll the next day. _
The Commissioner of Kinghorne gave in a complaint in
name of that Burgh, in respect of the great prejudice they
sustained by the Episcopall tyrannie in removing of a faith-
full minister, Mr John Skinner, and him whom they now
have being ane old man. They crave of the Assemblie ane
helper. -—Fz'at at pete'ta-r.
The Commissioners from the Presbitrie of Turrey gave in
a Supplication, declairing, That whereas Alexander Ander-
sone and Robert Davidsone, in Turrey, having fallen in ane
delinquencie at a mercat in Aberdeine, and for that were
conveined before the Bishop, and payed 5'22 merks of penal—
tie, which should have been bestowed in mending the high
wayes betwixt Turrey and Aberdeine, notwithstanding they
delivered it to the Bishop, whilk he detaines, and the parties
are not called for to make their repentance.
The Assemblie ordaines the delinquents to make their re-
pentance in Turray and Aberdeine, and the penaltie to be
restoired.
Then there was a Supplication presentit in name of the
Kirk of Corspairne, which Church lyes in a very desolat
wildernes, containing 500 communicants. It was builded by
some gentlemen to their great expenses, only out of love to
the salvation of soules of a number of barbarous ignorant
people, who heirtofoir hes lived without the knowledge of God,
their children unbaptized, their deid unburied, and could no
way for getting mentainance to a minister but to betake
them to the sympathizing of zealousness, as the Assembly
would think expedient. _
My Lord Cassiles said—Their cace is verie considerable,
and deserves helpe. The cace of their soules is verie dan-
gerous, being 15 or 16 myles from a church ; and now, ‘since
God hes given them the benefite of a kirk, I think verllie a
verie little helpe of the Presbitries of the kingdom would
give them a competent meanes for a minister, especiallie see—
ing they have alreadie provydit something themselves.
This matter was committed to my Lord Lindsey, Earle of
Cassiles, Shirreif of T eviotdaile, Mr William Dalgleische,
Mr Alexander Kerse, and Mr John Home, to consider upon
till Monday.
Then the Moderatour asked Mr David Lindsey, who had
the charge of the Billes, if there were any moe to be pre-
sented; who answered, none but two, which they hoped to
discusse themselves.
Moderatour said—God be thanked ! \Ve have now neir
endit all the billes ; and as we began with important bussi-
nes, so we must end with great bussines lykewayes; and
therefore ye must have patience, and I hope with speid we
shall goe through them all, and so returne to our places.
Therefore, if there be any in this Assembly that have any
overture to give in concerning Ruleing Elders, let them come
to my Lord Balmerinochs house at 4 o’clock.
The Clerke desyred these that had given in their billes to
the committie, and who were referred to the Commissions up
and downe the countray, let them goe to Mr David Lindsey
and get their billes, that they may raise summands upon them
to compier before the Commissions.
The houre of meiting upon Monday is 10 houres.
Sess. 24.—December 17, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God, those who were
appoynted to meit about the Kirk of Carsfairne, declaired
that they had mett and taken consideration of the estate of
the kirk ; and, finding that the pairties that posesses the
teynds cannot be moved to give provision, we thinke it expe-
dient they be helped ane uther way; and becaus we thinke it
expedient that the whole kingdome be not troubled with it ;
therefore we thinke the bounds of this side of Tay, including
Fyfe and Forthe, will be sufficient.
Then Mr John Bell, elder, minister of Glasgow, presented
a supplication to the Moderatour ; and, after he had red it,
Moderatour said—There is heir a reverend and aged
brother, whom we should all honour—for gray haires, for a
crowne of glorie—that hath approven himselfe to God in his
Church, and to the people of this cittie in a speciall maner;
and now, finding his natural weaknes increasing, though he
hath vigour of mynd as yet, and fearing and apprehending
his dissolution drawes near, he hes represented to yow heir a
supplication for a helper in the ministerie, and desyres it may
be heard with the first.
Then the Clerke red his supplication, containing a earnest



desyre, for many reasons, that his brother, Mr David Dick,
minister at Irwing, might be admitted to joyne with him in
the ministerie.
My Lord Eglintoun said—Albeit Edinburgh have power
to transport ministers, I understand not how Glasgow hes.
Moderatour said—They have power to supplicat.
Eglintoun said—Let the question be, whether Mr John
Bell may have a helper or not P
And the Provest of Glasgow said—Not only the generall
doe we supplicat but for the particular also.
Mr David Dick said—This was motioned to me yester-
night, and I have bein laying the matter before God, as it
becomes me to doe ; and I desyre that my particular reasons
why I should not be transported be considered by the
brethren of the place where I live, be reason of my long ac—
quaintance and tryed affection betwixt me and my fiocke and
my brethren of the Presbitrie. I have ane open doore of
doing good above any pairt elsewhere. 2. In the tyme of
my trouble by the Bishop, my Lord of Eglintoun, and the
brethren of our Presbitrie, was put to much trouble to have
me restoired to my ministerie there; and, therefore,I am
tyed to his Lordship and to them all. 3. Be reason of my
professed intention of a particular exposition of Scripture, I
cannot be for such a learned auditorie ; and before ever I can
take roote in any uther soyle where I may be fruitfulle, the
tyme of dissolution will draw on.
Lowdoun said—Beside these reasons given in be Mr David,
ye shall consider, that albeit some men have had but
particular flockes, yet they have both done als much good,
and holden off evills as if they had bein in more eminent
places.
The Moderatour said_ This is certaine—churches must be
planted ; and, for that end, there is a necessitie of transpor-
tation of some to Edinburgh, St Androwes, Glasgow, Dundie,
which cannot be provydit with expectants.
Argyle said—Though I have not ane voit heir, yet I crave
libertie to speake my judgment. T ruelie the business is both
grave and weightie; for the question is now betwixt the
countrie and the tounes, whether there be a necessitie of
transplanting ministers from corners of the kingdome to
tounes, or let them rest where they are? And I think it
deserves this consideration : let everie ane that pretends in-
terest why it should not be, produce their reasons in write,
that the Assembly may consider of them.
The Moderatour said—Let it be referred to a committie.
Eglintoun said—He would not consent : for, said he, if I
submitt my cloake to a committie, it may be they take a
newke of it.
Then there was a Committie nominat :—
A Complaint anent the Kirk of Airth was referred to the
Presbitrie of Stirling.
Moderatour said—VVhen we are thinking upon such old
fruitfull tries as reverend Mr John Bell, we should also be
thinking upon some young plants also, that we may know
our oune strenth; therefore it is necessar that a number of
expectants be taken up, both these that hath beine out of the
ministerie for not conforme to Perthes Articles, and these
that wer holden out and were forced to take them to ane
uther sort of life, waiting for better dayes, and these that are
now sprung up and are hopefull youthes, whom we trust who
shall supplie our places who are old.
Then the Commissioners of Dundie gave in a Supplication
for the transportation of Mr David Lindsey, Parsone of Bel-
helvie, to Dundie.
The Moderatour desyred the Provest of Glasgow, with
some other of the burrowes, to conveine this night, and
thinke upon some overture for the change of the mercat
dayes in Burghes from the Monday and Saturday, becaus
they be great profanation of the Sabbath, and wer occasioned,
that their consideration might be recommendit to the consid-
eration of burrowes, which the Provest of Glasgow promised
to doe.
There was given in the testimonie of the diligence of some
of these to whom the Answer of the Bishops Declinatour
was given in, which is insert before the Declinatour.
Sess. '25.—December l8, l638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—There is ane particular heir would
be considered before we went forward, and this is about the
forme of repentance of the pretendit Prelats, Dunkell and
uthers, subscryvit alreadie, and uthers have not yet subscry-



APPENDIX.
693


vit: therefore I will tell my oune judgment and the judg-
ment of uther members of the Assembly who have conferred
with me. For the Bishop of Murray, let the Presbitrie of
Edinburgh have power to cite him to compeir before them,
and receave his injunctions the tyme of the Provincial] As-
sembly, where he shall receave the maner of his repentance;
and if he compeir not, they shall proceid against him with
the censure of the Kirk. As for the Bishop of Orkney, let
him receave the matter of his repentance of the Presbitrie of
Crkney, and let them appoynt some of thir members to re-
ceave it. For the Bishop of Argyll, that he be cited to com-
peir in Edinburgh at the Provinciall Assemblie, to receave
direction for the maner of his repentance there. For the
Bishop of the Iles, that he be cited before the Commission
in Irwing to make his repentance. And in case they obey
not the Presbitries where they dwell, proceid against them
to the sentence of excommunica‘tion.
My Lord Lindsey said—If any of these who are excom-
municat be content to make their repentance, shall they not
thereupon be presentlie receaved P
Moderatour said—They may weill wait upon the next
Generall Assembly; or if any of them be neir the poynt of
death, and apprehending the terrors of God, let the Presbi-
trie lowse them from the sentence, if they be readie to cry
out with Bishop Adamsone~“ Lowse them, lowse them I”
Mr John Home said—In that case, it wer weill done to
receave them; but let them leave a testimonie in write of
their repentance, as Bishop Adamsone did.
Moderatour said—There are divers seeking transportations,
and, among others, Mr David Dalgleishe, Minister of Cow-
par, who truelie hes great reason, if we will consider and
compair his gifts with his meanes. He desyrit the benefite
of it be transportation; which the Assembly allows.
Moderatour said-—-Anent our cariadge toward excommuni-
cat persones, I thinke civill alfaires may be done with them
_—al_naturall duetie done to them, but civill dueties verie spar-
ing 1e.
Moderatour said—\Ve left about the Bishops declinator
and protestation, and we appoynted some to make answer.
Now, consider whither ye will heare a litle tast of their an-
swer till the rest be ryper for the presse, and let it be remitted
to some brether to be perfyted before the Commission close
in Edinburgh, and put to the presse. \Vithal, ye know there
would be a consideration had of the declaration that it hath
pleased the Kings Majesties Commissioner to publische and
print, that ane answer may be had to it, and such lyke, that
ane answer be made to the protestation given in be him.
There is a great Booke fund to be authentick, containing
many Acts of Assemblies, belonging to Mr William Scott,
in Cowpar. I thinke the Assemblie will joyne together to
make him rander the same to the Assembly, and that a Letter
be written to him, subscryved be the Clerk of the Assembly,
to send the book heir.
The Shirreif of T eviotdaile said—~There is a foull scandall
in our countrie—a fellow that hes lived in incest with his
wifes sister; and when Mr Thomas Abernethie was proceed-
ing against him, he was prohibited by the Bishops—referred
to the Presbytery.
A supplication was presented from the Paroche of Car—
donald, becaus of their distance from their paroche kirk, to
witt, 12 myles. They desymed a visitation, to the end that a
kirk might be planted—referred to the Presbytery.
Mr Robert \Vilkie declaired that he had spocken with Mr
Robert Hamilton. minister at Lismahago, and that he was
resolved to give satisfaction to the Assembly in many thinges,
and therefore intreated that he may have libertie to advyse
him till the morne.
Then the Commissioner of Edinburgh urgit againe the
reading of their supplication, and cravit the voites of the
Assembly.
The Commissioner of St Androwes desyrit that becaus his
supplication was first given in, it might first have ane answer.
The Moderatour said—I am sorie that this Assemblie,
conveined about so great afl‘aires, should spend any tyme
about any thing wherein my name is named; for it is knowne
to many of yow how small my portion is, and I pray God
their earnestnes for me make it not lesse. I humblie intreat
this Assemblie to judge according to knowledge, and not ac-
cording to the solicitation of any, and I have alreadie sub-
mitted myselfe to the judgment of this Assemblie, and not
onlie so, but I acknowledge they may command me to goe
where they will : therefore I will remove myselfe out of the

Assemblie, and let ane uther Moderatour supplie : onlie this,
I certifie the Assemblie—if ye goe not on unanimouslie—if
the ane half be ane way and ane uther half ane uther way, I
will neither consent nor take it as a. calling from God to re~
move.
Then Mr James Bonar, who was chosen Vice-Moderatour,
said—I hope it be the unfeingzied desyre of all our hearts,
whom God hes called together in this Assemblie, to seik the
honour of God and the advancement of the kingdome of his
Sone Jesus Christ in this land; and I hope it is not onlie the
desyre of the Assemblie in generall, but also the mynd and
meaning of these Commissioners from Edinburgh and Sanct
Androwes, who now doe supplicat, and if it can be qualified
that the transportation of Mr Alexander Henderson, our
Moderatour to Edinburgh, will serve more for the advance-
ment of the kingdome of Jesus and good of the common
earand, I hope yee from St Androwes will applaud; or if the
contrare be qualified, I hope these from Edinburgh will also
rest satisfied.
Then the Commissioner from St Androwes gave in a great
number of reasons, why the said Mr Alexander should be
transported, which were all answered at large by Mr Andro
Ramsay, neidless to insert heir.
The Laird of Erlishall made protestation that he should
not be transported at all from Lewchars, for many reasons.
Lowdoun said—Since we are to prosesse ane end, let the
publict head he so prevalent with us, that no predominant
affection cary us away.
Then the Supplications from the tonne of Edinburgh, and all
their multitude of reasones, were againe read. Then the M o-
deratour desyred those who were appoynted to heare the said
Mr Alexander his reasons, and to declair what they had done.
Mr David Dick answered—It pleased our Moderatour to
lay furth his reasons before us, wherefore he should not be
transported from Lewchars, and by them we were made sen-
sible how great a burthen he tooke of any other motion;
alwayes, after in calling upon the name of God, and hearing
of all his reasons at leasure, our resolution ran on this—that
the present necessitie requyred his presence at Edinburgh.
Moderatour said—Ye have heard many considerable rea-
sons on all hands; therefore now, the question is, whither
Mr Alexander Hendersone shall be transported to Edinburgh
or St Androwes?
Then the rolles were called, and there were 75 moe voits
for Edinburgh nor St Androwes. Then Mr Alexander being
come in, Mr James Bonar declaired to him that the Assem-
blie had ordained him to be minister at Edinburgh.
Moderatour said—Becaus I know what a. fearfull sin it
was for a man either to obtrude himselfe upon a place or to
resist Gods calling to it, this made me to cast myselfe in the
hands of the Assembly: and now for ane externall calling, I
have followed, you voited; and if ye have had any thing be-
fore our eyes in voiting but the glorie of God and good of
the w‘hurch, to yourselfe be it said; and I will intreat you to
'oyne with me in your desyres to God for a blessing upon my
labours that are weake, there, and withall, I beg of the As—
sembly that if weaknes of bodie or mynd shall come on me
shortlie, I may have libertie to retire to some private place :
which the Assemblie granted.
Doctor William Guild presented a supplication to the As-
sembly—That, whereas there was great fisching of salmond
neir Aberdene upon the Sabbath, which occasioned great pro-
fanation of that holy day, by peoples continuall resorting to
see that fisching, even in tyme of divine service; and like-
wayes declaired how he had prevailed much, throw the bless-
ing of God upon his labours, to restrane that abuse, ‘so that
divers worthie religious persones who have speciall interest
in that fisching, had bein moved to draw up a bond and
covenant among them to forbeare that sinfull practice in all
tyme comeing; therefore supplicats that the Assembly may
be pleased to make ane Act against the said profanation, that
upon that ground he might proceed against them, after his
returne from the Assembly.
The Assembly, after much disputation in respect they could
find no Act of Assembly against salmond fisching for the pre-
sent, they appoynted Doctor Guild, Mr John Rohertsone,with
some others, to think upon some overture for it against the
morrow.
The Provest of Glasgow declaired that he had mett with
some uther of the burrowes, and they had condescendit upon
the change of Mondayes mercat to Wednesday, and desyred
reference might be made of it to the Convention of Burrowes.




69-1
APPEN DIX.
._.~ -_...._..~_______.-_,<x.__.-_._r_>._\ ; a.


Sess. 26.——December 19, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
The Moderatour said—Ye know, as we must rander ane
account to God for our proceedings, and be comptable to our
owne consciences, so it is meit, for the peace and quyetnes of
this Church, that, as God hes disposed our hearts to carry
ourselves reverentlie in all our proceedings, and be compta-
ble to our owne consciences; so it is meit, for the peace and
quyetnes of this Church, that, as God hes disposed our hearts,
to carry ourselves reverentlie in all our proceedings towards
the Kings Majestie, so that he be acquainted with our pro-
ceedings, and that some humble supplications be directed by
this Assemblie to his Majestie, that it may please him to
approve, by his auctoritie, what we have concludit. I thinke
there be more heir but they will thinke it very necessar.
There is heir drawen up a little tast of the frame of it; and
at more lenth ye may alter and change it at your plea-
sure.
Moderatour said—Ye know there was a matter of verie
great importance committed to some, concerning these that
should be commissioners in tyme of Parliament.
Lowdoun answered—\Ve, according to the knowledge we
had of men, have made a list of the names of some commis-
sioners and gentlemen. There is somewhat heir concerning
them that shall heirafter subscryve the Confession of Faith,
as ye know some hes come in to this Assemblie, young no—
blemen and gentlemen, and offered themselves willing to
subscryve the Covenant, becaus now it was a kynd of non-
sense to subscryve to suspend the practice of novations, till
they be tryed and allowed in a free Assemblie, since now the
Assemblie hes determined it; therefore, it is necessar that
two or thrie lynes be prefixed before their subscription, who
heirafter shall subscryve as follows :—
“ The Article of the Covenant, which was, at the first sub-
scription, referred to the determination of the Generall As-
sembly, being now determined at Glasgow, November ‘21,
1638, and thereby the Five Articles of Perth, and Governe-
ment of the Kirke by Bishops, is now abjured and removed,
the civil places and power of Kirkmen being declared to be
unlawfull, I subscryve according to the determination of this
lawfull Generall Assemblie.”
And becaus the Marqueis of Hamilton hes caused print a
declaration, that it was neither his Majesties meaning nor
his owne, in urging the late Covenant, to abjure Episcopacie;
therefore he desyred the brethren to think upon it till the
morne.
Lowdoun said—The honourable Counsel, they have made
an Act, wherein they declair in what sense they subscryvit to
the doctrine of faith, religion, and discipline of the Kirk of
Scotland—to witt, as it was professed in anno L580. This is
major propositio. This Assembly hes sett doune clearlie,
according to the Acts of the Kirk, how the doctrine, religion,
and discipline was then professed. This is the minor. The
conclusion will follow z—T hat they have subscryvit according
to the determination of the Generall Assembly; for, at that
tyme, it is cleare there was no Bishop. The major is the
Counsells Act; the minor is the Assemblies explanation;
and the conclusion any bodie knowes.
The complaint against Mr Thomas M‘Gill referred to the
Commission at Edinburgh.
My Lord Lowthian presented ane supplication to the As-
semblie, anent the transportation of Mr Androw Cant from
Pitsligo to N ewbotle, in the Presbitrie of Dalkeith.
Moderatour said—It would seeme reasonable your Lord-
ship should get a favourable answer, considering your dili-
gence and zeale in this cause above many uthers, and I know
this not to be a new motion, but to be concludit by the Pa-
tron, Presbitrie, and Paroche.
The Commissioner of Edinburgh alleadged that they had
made an election of him 24 yeares since.
Then the mater was put to voiting—Whither Mr Andro
Cant should be transported from Pitsligo to Edinburgh?
And the most pairt of the Assembly voited to his transplan-
tation to Newbotle; and so the Moderatour declaired him to
be Minister at N ewbotle.
The Commissioner of St Androwes presented a supplica-
tion in name of the tonne of St Androwes for transportation
of Mr Robert Blair from Air to St Androwes, for the good
of their Universitie.
Mr Robert Blair was called on, who answered—I confesse
I am in the hands of this Assembly; but I protest heir, in






Gods presence, that I had rather lay downe my life nor be
separat from my flock at Air.
The Assemblie thought meit to referre it to a committie
—Mr James Bonar, Mr James Scharpe, Mr David Dick, Mr
Robert Baillie, Mr John Adamsone, Mr Robert Douglas, Mr
Robert Murray, Mr James Bruce, Mr Alexander Hendersone,
Mr James Hamilton.
Then Mr Robert Hamilton at Lesmahago compired; and
the Moderatour declaired that he had laboured to delay
the discussing of this proces very lang, of purpose to gaine
him from his faults, and therefore desyrit him now to declair
frielie whither or not he would passe from his declinatour
which he had subscryvit? who answered, that he was not
weill advysed as yet. lifter much reasoning to and fro, the
Assembly suspends him presentlie; declaires him worthie of
deposition; ordaines him to compeir before the Presbitrie of
Lanerk, and give them full satisfaction, and then to compeir
before the Commission at Edinburgh: And, in case he have
not given the Presbitrie satisfaction, ordaines them to proceed
against him. Because it was impossible for everie Presbitrie
to get a full copie of all the Acts of the Assemblie, There-
fore, the Assemblie ordaines them to get an index of the
principall under the Clerks hand to take home with them.
The Moderatour said—There is a poynt in our Confession
of Faith not yet cleared, and therefore it were well done to
declair your judgment concerning that ye know. There was
a reference in the Confession of Faith to the Generall As—
sembly. 1, It comends [condemns] the novations alreadie
introduced ; 2. Concerning the corruptions of the publict
governement of the Kirk ; and the third was concerning the
civile places and power of Kirkmen. The two former are
already determined. It rests now ye declair your judgment
concerning the third; and for the effect, it will be expedient
that ye heare some few thinges red to yow—as, namely, the
Conference at Falkland, 1599, when the Kings Majestie was
first craving to the Ministrie, voit in Parliament, he appoynted
a conference for that effect, for clearing of the mater; and,
lykewayes, that ye heare red to yow, the protestation and
reason thereof, given in to the Parliament 1606, by Com-
missioners from Provinciall Assemblies and Presbitries. Vl'e
deny not but it is requisit that Ministers be not far from the
Parliament, that, if any case of conscience fall in Parliament,
they may give their advyce from the word of God. But the
question is—Whether the Ministers should voit or ryde in
Parliament, as Lords and Nobles? Their pretence, at first,
was to vindicat the Kirk and Kirkmen from contempt and po-
verty; but we neid not to doubt but our Lord .will see us get
honour and respect enough, if we keep ourselves within the
bounds of our calling; and, I am persuadit, there is not a
faithfull Minister but he will have more joy when he comes
from catechising a number of landwart people, nor a Bishop
hes when he comes from ryding in Parliament. And they
thought to vindicat themselves from contempt and povertie;
but, it is lyke, now both will come upon them.
Mr Andro Cant said—The Apostle sayeth—VVho is suffi-
cient for these thinges? And yet they will take on two
offices, and jumble the civill and ecclesiasticall function throw
uther, which is very incompatible.
Mr Andro Ramsay said—I have spent many sermons and
treatises against it: and, therefore, with my heart, I con-
demn it.
Mr David Dick said—The first thing that ever brought
me in disgust with the estate, was when I considerit what
was the reason that Christ dischargit his disciples to be rulers
of the Gentiles; and the satisfaction that I got from this, that
Christ would not have his kingdome ane eyesore to the world;
so my heart could never be to that course.
Moderatour said—\Vhen it was first instantlie urgit by
auctoritie, there were some of the ministers had the sagacitie
as a foirmell, what could come of it, which made many to
protest against; and when, by so doing, they could not hin-
der it, to put cautions upon it. But since these cannons
could not keepe them within their bounds, but they with
their voit in Parliament did prejudge the Kirk, whither
should not the Church be red of that which hath wrought
her so great prejudice ? And I thinke there is no more her-
trogenius from the matter of a ministers calling, nothing setts
him worse, nor nothing more contrarie to his Masters cariage,
nor to be a Lord in Parliament. The question is twofold.
The first is, Whither a minister of Jesus Christ, separat to
the Gospell, should breuke civill place as is usit in a Coun-
cell bench or Session? And the uther is, \Vhether he should


APPENDIX.
695



voit in Parliament or not? In a word, Whither their exer-
cising in civill offices be lawfull or unlawfull P
The rolles being called, the whole Assembly most unani-
mouslie, all in ane voit, with the hesitation of two, allanerlie
declaired, that its both inexpedient and unlawfull in this
Kirk, for ministers, separat to the Gospell, to bruike any
civill place or office qwhatsomever.
Moderatour said— W e have reason to blesse the Lord for
this harmonie—that we sing all ane song, and are led by ane
s irit.
their worldlie ambition and covetousness, they will, for their
aine parte, be content to want these dignities. Thir must
either belong to ministers in respect of their ministerie, or in
respect they are prelats, and so are called Lords; and if as
they are ministers this be unlawfull, as they are prelats it hes
double unlawfulnes.
Moderatour said—There would be some considerations had
concerning Ruleing Elders. It hes pleased God so to dis-
pence with the hearts of our nobilitie, gentry, and burr-owes,
that they have by concurrence helped forward the cans of
religion, or, as the Scripture phrase is, they have helped God;
and, therefore, it becomes me, with all thankfulness, humblie
to acknowledge it; and although we have gone far on in our
ecclesiasticall determinations, we must not thinke the mater
endit yet; but the Kirk of Christ in this land is yet wrestling
with many difficulties. Neither can we thinke ourselves
secure in peace and quyetnes, till civill auctoritie ratifie what
is heir done by ecclesiasticall constitutions. Therefore it
were meit that these elders should still give us their assist-
ance, especiallie on extraordinary occasions. Only ye have
to consider whither or not there may be a motion made
anent the restoiring of them to the integritie of their places
that they had, at the first subscryving of the Confession of
Faith?
Mr Robert Murray said—Truelie, when I consider the case
of our Kirk as it hath beine a long tyme bygone, and the
benefite it had by ruleing elders, I thinke we should be verie
glad to agrie to the restoiring of them againe; for I find, ever
since the reformatione, in all sorts of Assemblies where rule-
ing elders hath bein, that they have done great good; and I
find that there hath bein many complaints for the want of
them; not, never for the having of them, either in Presbi-
tries and uther judicatories. For my pairt, if we looke sim-
plie to the good of the common cause, which we all pretend
to doe, we will be glad of their assistance at all our As-
semblies ; for it would be a strengthening of our weake
bands.
Lowdoun said—I understand that in all Parliaments where
any thing hes bein done concerning the Kirk, it hath ay bein
the first act that the privilege and libertie of the Kirk be
ratified; and now the evills that troubled Kirk and state,
being, by the Confession of Faith in this Kirk, and by the
discipline of it removed, I thinke are, upon you, but a parte
of that which is requyred to be ratified in the generale article
which yee red first. But there is a policie and government
sett doune in this Kirk, not to be coutraverted in it selfe;
and if, becaus of the long disswetude of it, or suppressing of
it, any hath feares for any thing that may be in it, I think
that may be adverted to; but, for the thing itselfe, it is so
conduceable for the strengthening of the Kirk and her frie-
dome and liberties, that there is no way compairable to it;
for it goes doune at the upmost, and goes doune from the
representative Kirke to Provinciall Assemblies; from them
to Presbyteriall; from presbyteriall to paroches and sessions;
I answer, where mens mynds are put to a poynt in _

call it in question, which I am able to cleare against all the
world. .
Mr Andro Cant said—We have sien such a great blessing
of God upon the constitution of this Assembly, that certainlie
we have great cans to rejoyce; and, next unto the presence
of our God, I attribute a great parte of this harmony to the
good disposition of Ruling Elders; and it is a very uncharita-
ble prejudice to judge amisse of such a divine institution be-
fore we have experience of the evil of it.
Mr Alexander Kerse said—T here are two termes that are
not scriptural termes as they are used, or rather abused—to
witt, the Clergie and laitie. The Popishe Kirk appropriates
the ane to kirkmen, and in a maner excludes the people of
God as not of the Lords inheritance, and, in a sort, have put
the people of God from their station and place that they have
right unto by the law of God, that they will not suffer them
to humane consultative or decerive voit in any sort.
The rolles being called, the whole Assemblie most un-
animouslie declaired the approbation of that old order of
Ruling Elders.
Concerning Mr John liellis Supplication for a helper, the
Assemblie referris it to the consideration of the Commission
at Edinburgh.
Sess. ultima—Deccmber ‘20, 1638.
After in calling upon the name of God,
Doctor Guild said—There is a motion made, as ye all hard
the other day, concerning salmond fisching, and proffanation
of the Sabbath thereby, and it was not thought expedient to
make new Acts, but to search for old ones, and to revive
them. In Gods providence, there is heir found ane Act, in
the year I562, of the Assembly holden at Holyrudhouse, 12
Nov. 5 Session, where salmond fisching is expresslie inhibite
and ordained to be punished by the censures of the Kirk;
and I requyre that the Clerk may read it; which according-
lie was done, and the whole Assembly, in ane voit, renewed
the same.
The names of the Commissioners for the Parliament being
red, and the Articles which they behoove to present to it,
they were desyrit to represent them to the Clerk of Register
some dayes before the Parliament.
Moderatour said—There will be some directions from the
Assembly to Ministers what to doe first when they goe home.
For this end, Presbitries must have ane extract of some Acts
shortlie ; and becaus there is a declaration of the Confession
of Faith to be red, it wer good it wer intimat in all pulpits,
as lykewayes thir things that are concludit in Assemblie con-
cerning Episcopacie, the 5 Articles of Perth, the Service
Booke, Booke of Cannons, Booke of Ordination, High
Commission, and the Sentence against the Prelats, to intimat,
that people may ken who are excommunicat, and who not.
Then there was red two Acts, which wer put in forme :
the ane commanding the Covenant to be subscryvit be all
Masters of Universities, Colledges, and Schools,and all uthers
who have not alreadie subscryvit the same, with these words
prefixed before their subscription ; ane uther Act, discharg-
ing all subscription to the Covenant lately urged by his Ma-
jesties Commissioner.
After the calling the rolles, the whole Assemblie most
unanimouslie allowed both these Acts.
Moderatour said—There is a motion made concerning
thanksgiving to be keeped when ye goe home to your parti-
f cular congregations ; and truelie, considering our evil deserv-
‘ rugs, and what the Lord hes done to us for meir favour, we
and so, what is done heirby, this Kirk oblisses everie congre— 1
gation to stand to it, as a thing that concerns them all; and
this it is sworne, because it is the discipline of the Kirk, and
the grounds of it are in the bookes of policie; and, if it were
not for the good of the Kirk, (what can anything doeth it
concerne ruleing elders, albeit many hes feares of a predo-
minant way. It is rather to be feared that we will be slack
and remisse upon the uther extremitie.
Moderatour said—I hope that God, who hes led us hither-
to by a spirit of wonderfull unanimitie, shall so regulat the
hearts of everie member that hes bad place in this Assemblie,
that all their designes shall conduce to the weill of the Kirk.
[t is objected against us, that we would not be content of 14
bishops, but now we have many hundreths over-ruleing us.
But let us take this for a suggestion of Satban, and hold our
eye upon the great Bishop of all, through whose blessing this
will be a meane to keip his work in unitie and peace.
Mr Andro Ramsay said—I think it no sort expedient to
have no lesse nor great reason to acknowledge it, both pub-
lictly in our congregations, and privatelie in our families,
and to delyte in the honour of God, and make frequent com-
memoration of it at the first convenient occasion after ye re-
turne to your Presbitries and paroches; and I trust it shall
be acceptable unto God, and give no just occasion of of-
fence.
The Assemblie allowes this Article, and ordaines Ministers
to make intimation in their pulpits of the conclusion of this
Assemblie, the first Sabbath efter their returne home, and
desyre their people to prepaire themselfes against the next
; Sabbath thereafter, not for carnall festivitie, but for a humble
thanksgiving.
The Assemblie ordaines the Presbitries to proceid against
those who subscryvit their declinatour, and all uthers who
will not acknowledge the Assembly, with the censures of the
. Kirk ; and becaus there are some of this sort about Aberdein
that their voits will be moe in Presbitries, the Assembly or-




696
APPENDIX.




daines them to be called before the Commission at Aber-
dein.
Lykewayes the Assembly ordaines the Moderatour and ‘
Clerk to give out summonds upon relevant complaints of
parties before the next Generall Assembly, becaus the tyme
could not be weill condiscendit upon. The rolles were called,
and most parte of the Assembly voited that the third Wed-
nesday of Jullii, the next Generall Assemblie should sitt at
Edinburgh; and if the Kings Majestie be pleased to indict
a Generall Assemblie, either before or efter this tyme, the
Assemblie declaires that it was good reason his Majesties
tyme wer waited on.
Then the Commissioners of St Androwes presented their
supplication for the transportation of Mr Robert Blair from
Air to St Androwes ; and, efter many contestations betwixt
the Commissioners of St Androwes, my Lord Lindsey, Pro-
vest of Air, and uthers, the mater was put to voiting, and
there was no great difference amongst the voites, except only
four or five moe that voited for St Androwes nor for Air:
quharefore,
The Moderatour, in name of the Assemblie, ordained him
to goe to St Androwes.
Lykewayes, the Commissioner of Aberdein did supplicat
for the transportation of Mr Samuell Rutherfuird from An-
weth in Galloway, to be Professor of Divinitie in the new
Colled e of Aberdene.
Mr Samuell said—My ministrie and the exercise of it is
subject in the Lord to this Honourable Assemblie. But I
trust in God this Assemblie will never take from me my
pastorall charge ; for there is a woe unto me if I preach not
the Gospell, and I know not who can goe betwixt me and
that woe. If I doe not preach the Gospell, I verilie thinke
the High Commission did not nor could not doe no
worse nor that unto me; and therefore, he desyrit if there
were any such thing as that in their mynds, they would not
intertaine such thoughts ; for he said he would be content to
to suffer prisonment, banishment, &c., but never lay downe
his ministerie.
The Moderatour answered—He was glad that his reasons
were so weake; and after much reasoning to and fro, it was
referred to the Commission at Edinburgh.
The Moderatour asked of the Assembly if there were any
other particular to be remembred, or if any man had any
motion to propone, or any further to say, since this was the
last Session, and they were now this night to ryse and goe
home to their churches? The Assemblie being silent, and
all matters considerable being now discussed, the Modera-
tour uttered these speaches as followes :—
The Moderatour, his last speach, directed to the Assembly
immediately before the dissolution thereof
I think there be none heir that expects any di.~course of
me worthie the taking up the tyme appointed for so great
elfaires as hes bein heir, or of such Noble, prudent, learned,
and wise eares as heares me. Only I will say two things
concerning my selfe—one is, that the evill that Iwould have
schunue is come upon me ; for I did not apprehend it,
neither can I call it absolutelie an evil, becaus there are good
in it, and, I am sure, God hes done good by it. But this I
say—I would have schunned it, partlie becaus of that bash-
fulness which I fand in my selfe, and partlie becaus of my
unwillingnes to make my weaknes and infirmities knowne
to the world; but ye see, contrare to my disposition and re-
solution, Ihave bein chargit to take on this charge, quhich
I have borne thir dayes bygone, and I doe crave pardon of
the God of Heaven and of this honourable Assembly, of the
faults that hes escaped me since I tooke it on, quhich I know
are manyfold.
This is ane thing concerning myselfe : the uther concern-
ing myselfe is this—That I observe the beginnings and
closeings of the worke of God to be very answerable. The
beginnings were very weake—by very weake instruments—
and so hes the conclusions beene, by reason of my weaknes,
who have bein imployd in it; and this is, that the Lord
may get the glorie that belongs to him of his own power.
But what shall I say ? That I have bein ane Instrument,
nay ye yourselves have bein instruments raised by God. By
your pietie, prudence, and paines, the Lord hes brought this
worke to passe; and I cannot say but all sortes have bein verie
diligent and faithfull, zealous, and stranglie assisted by God in
every poynt committed to them—in trueth, to my admiration.
Ye must not rest upon yourselves, but ascend higher, and

looke to these worthie Noblemen who have beine cheefe in-
struments in this work, and how it has pleased the Lord to
move their hearts, contrare to their place—being subject to
many temptations—and contrare to the age of some of them, to
attend thir effaires quherin is not much worldlie bewtie or
contentment ; yea ye know what paines and hazard they
have undergone-yea, what charges—altho' I will not men-
tion so fecklesse a mater, for if I should, I would wrong their
pious resolution.
Yet ye must not stint your mynds heir; for, if ye doe, ye
wrong them by giving them more nor due, and so doe pre-
judice to the honour of the Majesty of our God ; and there-
fore to ascend hi her, I pray, from the meanest instruments
that is heir, of Tobles, of Barons, of Ministers, of Elders—
goe forward and consider of the Kings Majesties goodnes
toward us; for ye know this Assembly was indicted be his
Majesties auctoritie, and that his Majesties High Commis-
sioner was heir till it was fullie constitut; and let us take
this as a great favour from the Kings Majestie and his Com-
missioner ; and let us stirre up our hearts to pray to God for
his Majesties long prosperous reigne over us.
But we must not rest upon the King, but ascend yet higher
unto God himselfe, and give him his owne praise ; and sure-
lie the name of our God is worthie of all praise ; for he has
raised us out of the deipes of the earth: he has raised us
from the (lead, and exalted us very far. The yondest of our
wishes was to have bein at our first reformation ; and now,
in his graceous dispensation, their measures are restoired to
us ; and, if it be not so, let us blame ourselves; for yee see
how the Lord, in his providence, hes given us the occasioun
and opportunitie, that all things may be done in the hous of
God, according to our former integritie, and which, I trust,
I am assured, is according to the will of God. W hat shall
1 intreat yow, honorable, reverend, and weill-beloved, to doe,
but, first, to consider the great and singular kyndnes—the
inestimable favour and love of our Lord Jesus Christ, towards
us all, the children of men, redeemed by his blood—that he
so loved us, from all Eternitie, that he gave himself to so
painfull sufferings, and schamefull sufferings, to purchase the
Holy Spirit unto us E’ And truelie oore Scotland, but rich
in respect of the Gospell, may say, t at the Lord hes loved
us ; yea there was never such a love heard tell of as he has
borne to us.
Next I would have yow to consider—and I put no ques-
tion but ye have considerit it—the goodnes of the Lord our
God, and his great bountie toward us in this great worke,
which now, ecclesiasticalie, is brought to a kynd of conclu-
sion. Remember ye not that our adversaries were at a verie
great height of pride P Remember ye not that they prydit
themselves in auctoritie, and in their prudence and policie ;
and if there were any name of learning in the land, they
would faine have had it appearing on their syde to be a ter-
rour to ws, whom they thought sillie, poore, ignorant saules,
besyde them ? And how our sun was almost sett at noone
—and we would surelie have died in darknes-except the
Lord had appeared and made his light to shyne ?
Next, beloved, I would have yow to consider how small
the beginnings were, yea, both small, weake, and obscure;
and so soone as the Lord toutched the hearts of men of all
rankes, from the highest to the lowest of the countrey, and
how sensiblie the Lord wrought with many a saule, what
light filled their mynds, and what heat filled their hearts!
For many old men who wer friezing for cold for want of de—
votion, they found yet their hearts glowing with the heat
that was breaking upon them, at the renewing of that Covenant,
and we found the documents of his presence at all our Meet-
ings ; for howbeit there were thousands mett together many
tymes, there were nothing but quyetnes and peace : and
surelie our adversaries themselves have contributed to our
conclusions, (thanks be to the Lord that rules all the actiones
of men l) for they have wrought more for our ends nor our
owne prudence hes done. \Vhen our courses failed us, their
courses promoved our intentions; and this is the extraordinarie
Providence that workes, not only by meanes, but without
meanes, and contrare to meanes— contrare to their malicious
intentions and purposes that are against ws. And should
not we, beloved, remember with thankfulnes the beginnings
—these glorious beginnings of reformation in this land—-
greater pietie-more religious exercises—greater sobrietie,
chastitie, and care to keep the bodie from uncleannes—
greater care to perform the dewties of righteousnes—not so
much craft, crueltie, oppression, falsehood in the land, as was


APPENDIX.
697


before this work began? And, if it be prosequut, it will
ap eare to be the worke of God.
ut shall we not acknowledge His hand that would have
this Assemblie indicted by auctoritie, and his Majesties
Commissioner staying till it was fullie constitut; and that
the Lord should have keiped ws heir against all sortes of
feares quhatsoever; and, being heir, has keiped us in such a
wonderfull unitie, and, I trust, also the light of veritie P
Surelie this should make ws wonder at the goodnes of God;
but especiallie when we consider the comfortable conclusions
this Assemblie hes brought to passe. And now, we are quyte
of the Service Booke, which was a booke of Slaverie and Ser-
vice indeed; the Booke of Cannons, which tyed us in Spirituall
bondage; the Booke of Ordination, which was a yocke put
upon the necks of faithfull Ministers ; and the High Commis-
sion, which was a guard to keip us all under that slaverie. All
these evills God hes red us of, and lykewayes of the civill places
of Kirkmen, quhich was the splendour of all these evills;
and the Lord hes led captivitie captive, and made Lords
slaves. \Vhat should we doe less, then resolve, first, since
the Lord hes granted ws libertie to labour, to be sen-
sible of it, and take notice of it; for we are like to a man
newlie awaked out of a dreame, or lyke a man that hes lyen
lang in the irons, who, after they are tane off, and he re-
deemed, he feilles not his libertie, but thinkes the irons are
on him still. So it is with us. \Ve doe not feill our liber-
tie ; therefore it were good for us to studie to ken the bounds
of our liberty wherewith Christ hath sett ws free, and then
again to labour earnestlie that we be not more intangled with
the yoke of bondage ; for, ye know, in logicks, a pricatz'one
ad hubitum non data?‘ Tegressus. It is true—in politick
places : these that are great in Court, if once depryved,
scarcelie wones to their credit; but especiallie we know it is
true in spirituall things, and yet the Lord, miraculouslie and
extraordinarilie, can give eyes to the blind, give cares to the
deafe, raise the dead; and we find, among ourselves, that
once being, in a manner, depryved, at least run on far in a
course of defection, the Lord hes been pleased to turn to us,
and make us turne to him; but take heid of the second
privation—tbat which depryves our saules of libertie, and
rather endure the greatest extremitie utherwayes before we
be intangled. I grant the Crosse is hard to looke upon ; bot
if we get strength from our Lord. it shall be an easie yoke
and burden. Remember the plague of Laodicea for luke-
warmnes, and bewar of it; for, ye know, the Lord threatens
to spew them out of his month, which imports, I. That he
will take delyte in executing judgement upon us, as a man
hes delyte when he empties his oppressed stomack. ‘.2. It
shall have reproach as a man goes with his vomiting to a back-
syde. 3. It imports, that he shall never returne, as a man
returnes not to his vomite. Therefore, 1, let us know our liber-
tie; 2, the esteeme of it reverentlie; 3, to use it diligentlie.
Then for our thankfulness—I say it becomes us to be
thankfull to the Kings Majestie, under whose peacable pro-
tection we have had this libertie to convine together; and,
truelie, I would recommend to yow, with your permission,
two things—the ane is, we would not cease for any thing is
come or can come, or is feared to come, to pray most fer-
ventlie, and to indure in prayer for our graceous Sovereigne
and King, whom God hes ordained to be our supreme Ma-
gistrat, and to pour out our hearts on his behalfe, that it
would please God to blesse him with all royall blessings.
In all our preachings we would be carefull to recommend his
Majestie to the People. \Ve ought, indeed, so to doe; for it
is the Lords will that we doe it; and next unto Christ let
him have the highest place; for howsoever the fifth command
be a precept of the second table, yet it is next unto the first,
teaching us, that next unto our dewtie to God we owe dew
reverence to these that are in places above us: Therefore,
when ye heare evills reported, attribute them not to his Ma-
jestie, but to misinformation. Ye that are acquainted with
that storie, Numbers xxii, of Balaam and Balack, ye will
find that God spak to Balaam. Balaam minsched it, and
what Balaam spak to Balacks servands they minched it lyke-
wayes; for Balaam said—“ The Lord will not give lieve to
goe,” and the servands said, “ Balack.” Balaam said—“ He
will not come.” So it comes to pas many tymes with true
Prophets, that God will not give us lieve to doe this or that.
But it is said to the King--“ '1 his rebellious People will
not doe this or that,” and he cannot understand but what he
heares ; therefore we should pray to Him who hes the hearts
of Kings into his hand, and the keyes of all his senses. that

he would convey knowledge to his Majesties royall heart,
that he may understand matters aright ; and we put no ques—
tion but when he understands our proceedings, which hes .
been with respect to religion and loyaltie to him, he will
think so weill of them, that he will vouchsafe his approbation
and royall ratification to them in his owne tyme, which God
rant.
g Then, for these Nobles, Barrons, Burgesses, and others
who have attendit heir, this I may say confidentlie, and from
the warrand of the \Vord—“ These that honour God, God
will honour them.” Your Lordships, and these worthie
Gentlemen and Burgesses, who have bein honouring God,
and giving testimony ample of your love to religion this time
bygane, (though I will not excuse your former backslydings,)
that, if ye will goe on, the Lord shall protect you, blesse you,
honour you; and your faith shall be found in the day of the
revelation of Jesus Christ, unto praise, honour, and glorie—
that is to say, these that speake evill of you shall praise you;
these that thinkes you foolish now, at that day shall confesse
you were zealous; these that dishonoured you shall honour
you; or, as the word “ glorie” imports, that they shall have a
reverend opinion of you; nay, even in this world, your faith,
devotion, and zeale shall be found unto praise, honour, and
glorie; and the Lord shall returne you ane hundreth fold
more in this lyfe, and, in the world to come, lyfe everlasting.
And I must say one word of these Nobles whom Jesus
Christ hath nobilitat indeed, and declaired sensiblie to be
worthie of that title of nobilitie. Ye know they were lyke
the tops of the mount-aines that were first discovered in the
deludge, which made the little valleyes hope to be delyvered
from it also; and so it came to passe. I remember, in the
eastern countrie,’ where they worship the sun, a number
being assembled earlie in the morning to that effect, all
stryving who shall sie the sun first, a servand turned his face
to the west, and waited on. The rest thought him a foolish
man, and yet he got the first sight of the sun schyning on the
tops of the western mountaines. So, truelie, he would have
bein thought a foolish man that would have looked for such
thinges of our nobilitie; yet the Sun of righteousnesse hes
beine pleased to shyne first upon these mountaines; and long,
long may he shyne upon them, for the comfort of the hilles
and refreshing of the valleys; and the blessing of God be
upon them and their families; and, we trust, it shall be seene
to the generations following.
As for us of the ministry, we have cans to praise the Lord
that hes had such a peacable meetting heir, and that the Lord
hes led us on in peace and trueth; that there hes bein no dif-
ference worthie of consideration amongst us. It is a rare
thing to sie such a harmonie; scarce hes the lyke beene seene
in any nationall Assembly.
Last, I must give a word of thanksgiving to this Cittie,
wherein we have had such a comfortable residence, and to
the principall Magistrats of it, who hes heir attendit our
meeting, and hes had due cair to provyde extraordinary com-
modious seats for us, and we have receaved very good inter-
tainment in this cittie. The best recompence we can give to
them is, to pray for the blessing of God upon them, and to
give them a tast of our labours by visiting their colledge, and
any other thing that consists in our power, without prejudice
to the Kirk of God, that so the kingdome of Christ may be
established among them, and glorie may dwell in. this land.
After which the Moderatour desyred some of the brethren
to speak a word of exhortation.
Mr David Dick said—\Ve know not how shortlie the
Lord may call us to trouble and sufferings for his trueth; for
his Majestie hath keeped us still in suspence all this tyme,
and, as he has mingled all our former steppes with fear, so
now he keepes us in the same temper, to the end our rejoy-
cing might be as it should. But if we will continue to ‘doe
as we have begun, in supplicating our God and our King,
and sett our face toward our Lord, and hold the rule of his
Word before our eyes, and make himselfe our fear and our
dread, we neid not to think any thing els, and acknowledge
his soveraigntie over all creatures. This is the short cutt and
perfect rule by which our goings must be ordered; and if, in
this path we meit with harsh troubles, when they are dis-
geasted a while, sweit and solide comfort will be the upshott
of them all, provyding we could wait for patience on our
Lord; and becaus, out of all doubt, the proceedings of the
Assembly will be tryed, let us arme ourselves with the
strength of our Lord to defend all our laudable constitutions,
and, withall, bear with pitie the niisconstructions of the



4 1‘
698
APPENDIX.


world, making use of our liberty, and labouring to walke in
a pure—pointed-out light; wondering at all the passages of
our Lords providence, and admiring the large measure of
reformation granted to this land; rejoycing to see schame
and confusion routed on the fall of Sions adversaries, and
sevenfold rendered into their bosome who slandered our Re-
formers as not learned and wyse with their zeale: the con-
trare quhereof their laudable acts and constitutions makes
manifest. And if this we doe, having now gotten a refor-
mation sett on foot againe, if we goe on prudentlie, advanc—
ing our Lord Jesus, keeping ourselves from a lordlie denomi—
nation; both Ministers and Ruling Elders knowing their
duties; and everie ane seiking the helpe and assistance of
ane uther; that as the hands cannot say to the feete, nor the
feete to the hands, “ we have no neid of yow,” so we may
all, as members of ane bodie, studie to advance our Lord
and his honour; and, if we will studie to repent for the
wronges God hes gotten in this land, and studie for a thor—
ough reformation of ourselfes, our people, and our families;
then it shall come to passe, that the blessing of God shall be
upon ourselfes, our callings, and laboures, and our posteritie,
and we shall be hid in the day of the Lords anger.
Then Mr Andro Ramsay, being called on to speake next,
said—Among all the pairts of Gods worship, I acknowledge
none more acceptable to God than thanksgiving; and it be-
comes us verie weill to be thankfull, if we regaird, first, the
beginning; secondly, the progresse; thirdlie, the happie con-
clusion of this great worke. First, if we regaird the be-
ginning which was wonderfull, unexpected, and powerfull. First it was wonderfull, in respect that, by a few
number of the basest offscourings in the land, God did begin
this worke, that the glorie might be given to him alone.
Secondlie, As it was wonderfull, so it was unexpected; for
scarce ane in all Scotland could have any hope to see this
dayes worke. Thirdlie, It was powerful; for, before it be-
gjane, religion was dieing, and the breath of it expyreing.
ut now it is reviveing; the winter is over and gone; the
flonres appeare in the earth; and the tyme of singing of birds
is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.
Againe, if we will looke to the progresse of this worke, we
will see great matter of thankfulnes; for whatever any intendit
for our hurt, he made it to turne for our good. Third, for
the conclusion, 1, If we respect this frequent meeting we
have had; 2, this powerfull and gracious assistance we have
felt; 3, this wonderfull harmonie and unanimitie that we
have had; 4, the happie conclusion that we see now with
our eyes : In all thir respects we have great reason to praise
od.
First, for the frequencie of this meeting, there was never
such a meeting at such a worke sein in Christendome. 2, So
powerfull assistance, both of the Spirit of our God for which
we glorified him, and of these worthie nobles and uthers heir
present, on whom we wishe all earthlie blessings—blessings
heir, and eternall happinesse in the lyfe to come. 3, For
our harmonie; there was never such a harmonie; that, all in
ane voit, we have rejected and condemned that Service Booke
-—-a booke of slaverie and servitude indeed—that superstitious
Booke of Ordination, and that Booke of Canons, which was
a bulwarke and defence for all the rest. 4, For the happie
conclusion, we have great reason to thanke God that these
bookes are now condemned. The five Articles that rent our
Church are now condemned; Episcopacie now abjured, and
all uther matters introductorie to Popperie—the Lord hes
fried us from them ; for which I say we have great reason to
thank God. Now let us not sing a requiem to ourselves, nor
yet be insolent in our carriage, but behave ourselves wiselie
and prudentlie towards our superiours; and, though the Bish-
ops be cast out, let us not be cairlesse of auctoritie, but let
our carriage be modest and our speach seasoned with grace.
3, Let us be vigilant and not secure; for, a great and good
worke such as this is, it was never brought to ane end with-
out opposition. 4, Let us be courageous in the strenth of
our God; and, lastlie, thankfull to his great name for that
wonderfull unanimitie that hes beine amongst us, and happie
conclusion that God hes granted unto us.
The Moderatour said—Truelie it becomes us not to be in-
solent; for the Lord hes bein pleased so to dispose of us as
we have not cans to be wantoun, for if, as we had divine
auctoritie to warrand us, so we had humane, I feir it should
be hard for us to keip ourselves within bounds. But the
Lord, knowing our weaknes, keipes us in this temper; and
if we carry ourselfes worthlie of that God hes bestowed upon

us, who knowes but he will graceouslie grant us all our de~
syres, and turn the countenance of our King toward this
Kirk? There rests ane circumstance which should have
remembered. I am assured it will be acceptable to this
Assembly, that some of these Noblemen who hes bein ane
ornament to this Assembly should speake ane word before it
dissolve, especiallie my noble Lord Argyle, whom we could
have wished, if it had pleased his Lordship, to have come in
sooner: but the Lord hes reserved him for the fittest tyme,
and I trust the Lord shall honour him with all blessings, both
heir and heirefter.
My Lord Argyle said-Since it pleases you, Moderatour,
to name my name, yow give me occasion to thanke yow for
putting so favourable a construction upon my carriage, where-
as ye wishe me that I had come in sooner. Truelie, I tell
yow it was not want of affection to the good of religion and
my countrie, and I desyre that favourable construction of
yow still, that my intention was to have done more good
wherein I was not inlaiking before ; and, when I saw I could
be no more usefull, except I had bein a knave, I thought
good to doe as I have done. Ane thing I would remember
yow of who hath bein purging the Kirk of evill instruments,
that ye would labour to learn a lesson upon their expenses :
felz'a: quemfdcz'zmt alz'cna perz'eula cautum. I remember, upon
ane occasion, I told some of them to their face, that there
was two faults which had brought meikle evill in this Church
—to witt, pride and avarice, which I cannot deny but to be
grievous faults in any man, but especiallie in Churchmen.
But I hope everie man shall \valke by the square and rule
which is now before him—keeping dutie first to superiors ;
secondly, to equals; and, thirdlie, to inferiours. For superi—
ours, there needs nothing to be farder said nor hes bein
alreadie by the Moderatour. Only this; let us all la-
bour, since we are fried of many yockes of bondage, not to
abuse our Christian libertie, which may make our profession
to be evil spoken of. Secondlie, for our duetie to our equals
—there is 9. cans much spoken of in this Church, betwixt
ruling elders and ministers. Some ministers feares that it
be a curbing of them; but, if any of these elders stryve to
make use of that power for any end but for the good of the
Kirk, they may be sure of their oune judgment. Truelie, it
may be, that some ruleing elders in some places he not so
wise as neid wer; but let not that, if it fall out, breid a dis-
temper in the peace of this Church ; but let unitie be all our
rules; and, if anything of this kind fall out in Presbytries or
Parochines, let neighbour Presbytries and Parochines joyne
togither for settling thereof, that no dissension be of this kind,
for it may doe much evill. T hirdlie, for inferiours—I hope
ministers will studie to know their duetie towards their
flocke and people; lykewayes, will have due regard to these
whom God hes sett over them ; for we must not think that
becaus we want Bishops, therefore we may live as we will.
And, if this we doe, though our gracious Master doe not everie
thing at first as we would wish, yet tyme may worke many
things, if we goe on constantlie in the defence of our religion
and of the auctoritie of our graceous Soveraigne, whom, we
pray, may long and prosperouslie reigne over us.
After that the Moderatour had given thankes to my Lord
Argyle for his speach, and craved pardon of his Lordship for
expressing his name, he said—As for that which my Lord
hes beine wiselie speaking. concerning our duetie to the Kings
Majestie, we have good reason to advert unto it; for this
reason, addit to many—becaus our adversaries gave it out as
a calumnie against us, that his government which we are
about, established by Christ in this Church, cannot stand
with monarchicall government, but Episcopall only; but let
us resolve to give a proofe of the contrare—that the govern-
ment which Christ hes appoynted, may weill stand with
monarchicall government; and, we trust, that we are not to
be suspected of our loyaltie toward his Majestic; and this
certainlie will make his Majestie perceave that we have done
nothing but what we have done, moved by God, and drawen
be necessitie to doe. And for this end let us—to conclude
this great worke—beseech Him who hes the hearts of Kings
in his hands, to inclyne our Kings heart, and let us magnifie,
from our hearts, our graceous Lord for this peaceable meeting
and happie conclusion we have had; for the which we are
oblissed all the dayes of our life to be thankfull to our God
and King, and to render unto the Father, Soune, and blissed
Spirit of Grace, all praise, endless honour, and glorie, for
now and ever. Amen.


APPENDIX.
699





No. IV.
Abstract of the Speech of Lord W'arrz'ston, before
the Westminster Assembly, after the delivery of some
Queries from the Parliament.
Mr Prolocutor,
I am a stranger. I will not meddle with the parliament-
privileges of another nation, nor the breaches thereof; but as
a Christian, under one common Lord, a ruling elder in an-
other church, and a parliament-man in another kingdom, hav-
ing commission from both that church and state, and at the
desire of this kingdom assisting in their debates. entreat for
your favour and patience to express my thoughts of what is
before you.
In my judgment, that is before you which concerns Christ
and these kingdoms most and above all, and which will be
the chiefest mean to end or continue these troubles. And
that not only speaking humaniter, and looking to the dispo-
sition of these kingdoms, but especially in regard of the divine
dispensation, which hath been so special and sensible in the
rise and continuance of these commotions, as I can neither be
persuaded that they were raised for, or will be calmed upon
the settlement of civil rights and privileges, either of kings
or princes, whatsoever may seem to be our present success;
but I am convinced they have a higher rise from, and for the
highest end, the settling of the Crown of Christ in these
islands, to be propagated from island to continent; and until
King Jesus be set down on his throne, with his sceptre in
his hand, I do not expect God's peace, and so not solid peace
from men in these kingdoms. But establish that, and a dur-
able peace will be found to follow that sovereign truth. Sir,
let us lay to heart what is before us, a work which concerns
God and man most of any thing in agitation now under the
sun, and for which we will one day be called to a more strict
account than for any other passage of our life. Let us both
tremble and rejoice when we reflect upon what is under de-
bate, and now in our hands.
I was glad to hear the parliament confess their willingness,
to receive and observe whatsoever shall be shown from the
word of God to be Christ’s or his church’s rights or dues;
albeit I was sorry to see any, in the delivery thereof, inter-
mix any of their own personal asperity, any aspersions upon
this Assembly, or reflections on another nation; so in this day
of law for Christ, wherein justice is offered, if he get not
right in not showing his patent from his Father, and his
church’s from himself, it will be counted your fault.
Sir, all Christians are bound to give a testimony to every
truth when called to it ; but ye are the immediate servants of the
Most High, Christ’s proctors and heralds, whose proper func-
tion it is to proclaim his name, and preserve his offices, and
assert his rights. Christ has had many testimonies given to
his prophetical and priestly offices by the pleadings and suffer-
ings of his saints, and in these latter days, seems to require
the same unto his kingly oflice. A king loves a testimony
to his crown best of any, as that which is tenderest to him;
and confessors and martyrs for Christ’s crown are the most
royal and most stately of any state-martyrs; so, although Christ’s
kingdom be not of this world, and his servants did not fight
therefore, when he was to suffer, yet it is in this world, and
for this end was be born. T 0 give a testimony to this truth,
among others, were we born, and must not be ashamed of it
nor deny it; but confess and avouch it. by pleading, doing,
and suffering for it, even when what is in agitation seems
most to oppose it, and therefore requires a seasonable testimony.
But it lies upon you, Sir, who have both your calling from
Christ for it, and at this time a particular calling from many,
as that which the Honourable Houses require from you at
such a time, when the settlement of religion depends thereon,
and when it is the very controversy of the times ; and the civil
magistrates not only call you before them to aver the truth
therein, but also give you a good example, coming before
you out of tenderness to their civil trust and duty, to main-
tain the privileges of parliament; to give a testimony assent-
atory to their civil rights and privileges ; and to forewarn you
lest you break the same, and incur civil premunires. Sir, this
should teach us to be as tender, zealous, and careful to assert
Christ and his Church, their privileges and rights, and to fore-
warn all lest they endanger their souls by encroaching there—
on; and lest their omission and remissness bring eternal pre-

l
munires upon them, let all know that the Spirit of your Master
is upon you, and that Christ hath servants who will not only
make pulpits to ring with the sound of his prerogative, but
also, if they shall be called to it, make a flame of their bodies
burning at the stake for a testimony to it, carry it aloft through
the earth, like the voice in Sicily, that Christ lives and reigns
alone in his Church, and will have all done therein according
to his word and will, and that he has given no supreme head-
ship over his church to any pope, king, or parliament what-
soever.
Sir, you are often desired to remember the bounds of your
commission from man, and not to exceed the same. I am
confident you will make as much conscience not to be deficient
in the discharge of your commission from Christ. But now,
Sir, you have a commission from God and man together, to
discuss that truth, That Christ is a King, and has a kingdom
in the external government of his church, and that he has set
down laws and offices, and other substantials thereof; and a
part of the kingdom for the which to come we daily pray, (as
Perkins shows well.) \Ve must not now before men mince,
hold up, or conceal, anything necessary for this testimony;
all these would seem to me to be retiring and flying, and not
to flow from the high Spirit of the Most High, who will not
flinch for one hour, not quit one hoof, nor edge away a hem
of Christ’s robe-r0 al. These would seem effects of desertion,
tokens of being ashamed, afraid, or politically diverted; and
all these, and every degree of them, Sir, I am confident will
be very far from the thoughts of every one here, who by their
votes and petitions, according to their protestations at their
entry, have showed themselves so zealous and forward to give
their testimony, albeit they easily saw it would not be very
acceptable to the powers on earth, who would hamper, stamp,
and halve it. But would you answer to that question, If
this were a parliament, and if it was a full and free one,
would he not, and should he not, be esteemed a great breaker
of privileges, and contemptor curiae? Albeit we are not so
wise, yet let us be as tender and jealous in our day and gen-
eration. Truly, Sir, I am confident you will not be so in
love with a peaceable and external profession of anything
that may be granted to the church, as to conceal, disclaim,
or invert your Master’s right. That were to lose the sub-
stance for a circumstance. to desert and dethrone Christ. to
serve yourselves, and enthrone others in his place : a tenant
doing so to his lord or landlord forfeits all. Ye are com-
manded to be faithful in little, but now ye are commanded
to be faithful in much; for albeit the salvation of souls be
called cu'ra curarz'z', the welfare and happiness of churches
(made up of these) is far more ; but the kingdom of Christ is
optimum maximum; and to have it now under your debate,
as it is the greatest honour God doth bestow upon an assem-
bly, so it is the greatest danger; for, according now as God
shall assist or direct you, you may and will be the instru-
ments of the greatest good or evil on earth. Let us do all
in, with, for, and by Christ. Remember the account we
have to make to him, who subjects the standing or falling of
his crown in this island to our debate. I speak bumanz'ler
for divinitc'r, I know it is impossible; and albeit we should
all prove false and faint-hearted, he can and will soon raise
up other instruments to assert, publish, and pro agate his
right to a forum consistorz'z'. He will have it t oroughly
pled and judged betwixt his kingdom and the kingdoms of
the earth. And seeing he has begun to conquer, he will pre-
vail over all that stand in his way, whether pope, king, or
parliament, that will claim any part of Headship, supreme
prerogative, and monarchy over his own church.
Sir, some may think you have had a design in abstaining
so long from asserting the divine right of church government,
now to come in with it truly. Sir, I look upon this check
as a good providence for your great sparing and abstaining
in that point, and must bear witness to many passages of
(n‘rod’s good band in it, in not suffering us to make a stand
for our desires concerning religion, either in Scotland or here,
albeit we have often set down mensura voti to ourselves;
but he has so often moved us step after step to trace back
our defections, and make the last innovations a besom to
sweep out the former, and the king refused to be a mean to
engage in a covenant with himself and others, and so has
drawn us, against our wills and beyond our desires, to per-
form our duty, and to give a testimony to his truth. that
much of God and divine wisdom and design, and little of
man and his politic projects, might be seen in the beginning,
progress, and continuance of the whole work, by this good

l‘
700
APPENDIX.





hand of God: and for this end, I hope these queries are
brought to your hand at this time.
Sir, your serving the parliament a while, I am confident,
has been, and will be still, not that they may serve you, but
to serve the Lord Jesus Christ; and that parliament will
glory more in their subordination and subservience to him,
than in the empire and command over the world.
Sir, we may hear much of the breach of privilege, and of
the covenant, in relation to civilright; let us remember in
the. covenant the three orders in the title and preface, three
main duties in the body, and the three effects in the close.—
I‘ he covenant begins with the advancement, and ends with
the enlargement of the kingdom of Christ, as the substantials
and over-word of the whole.
The first article of the seven is Christ, an article like (lies
Donzznz'ca in the week, all the rest are in Domino, and sub-
ordinate thereunto : and all laws contrary to the will of
Christ are acknowledged to be void in his kingdom, and so
they should, with far greater reason than the constable‘s
orders against the ordinance of parliament are void in law.
But. Sir, Christ’s throne is highest, and his privileges su-
preme as only King and Head of his church, albeit king and
magistrates may be members in it. There is no authority
to be balanced with his, nor post to be set up against his,
nor Korahs to be allowed against his Aarons, nor Uzzahs
against his Azariahs. Is it so small a thing to have the
sword, but they must have the keys also P Truly, Sir, I am
confident that the parliament, and both nations, will acknow-
ledge themselves engaged under this authority, and so they
would not be drawn from it; for we must deny our places,
take up our cross, lay aside our love to father or mother,
paternal or civil, yea, lay down our lives to aver and confess
this truth against all allurements and terrors, so ye would
never endeavour to draw us to any other; and whatsoever
reflection to the contrary was insinuated by the deliverer of
this message, I cannot but impute it to personal passion,
which long ago was known to the world; but will never be-
lieve the honourable houses will allow thereof, as being far
beneath their wisdom, and contrary to your merit.
And, Sir, seeing these queries are before you, Iam con—
fident that whatever diversity of opinion may be among you
in any particular, you will all hold out Christ’s kingdom
distinct from the kingdoms of the earth, and that he has ap-
pointed the government of his own house, and should rule
the same; and that none of this assembly, even for the gain-
ing of their desires in all the points of difference, would, by
their silence, concealment, and connivance, weaken, com-
mutate, or sell a part of this fundamental truth, this sovereign
interest of Christ; and that ye will concur to demonstrate the
same, by clear passages of Scripture, or necessary consequences
therefrom, and by constant practice of the apostles, which are
rules unto us.
Sir, I will close with remembering you of two passages of
your letter * sent by order of the House of Commons, to the
General Assembly of the church of Scotland, that you will
set out such discipline as, to the utmost of your power, you
may exalt Christ the only Lord over the church, his own
house, in all his offices, and present the church as a chaste
virgin to Christ; and for this end that you were not restrained
by the Houses in your votes and resolutions, nor bound up
to the sense of others, nor to carry on a private design in a
civil way, but by your oath were secured against all flatter-
ing of your judgment, and engaged thereby, according to the
House’s desire, to use all freedom becoming the integrity of
your consciences, the weight of the cause, and the integrity
and honour of such an assembly. I will no more, Sir, trouble
you, but with one word upon the whole matter, to desire you
seriously to consider, if this business, whereon the eyes of
God are fixed, deserves not a special day of humiliation and
prayer for the Lord’s extraordinary assistance and direction
of this Assembly.

No. V.
M’r Gulhrie’s speech in Parliament, immediately after
the reading of his Process, April 11th, 1661.
My Lord Chancellor,
I did, at my first appearance before his majesty’s com—
missioner, and this honourable court of parliament, give an
=-“~ This letter was read August 17th, 1643, in the Scots General Assembly.
as it stands in the collectien of the acts thereof from 1638 to 1649, page

account of my accession to the particulars contained in the
indictment, and of the grounds and reasons thereof ; I have
now done it more fully in my defences and duplies to the re-
plies given by my lord advocate ; in all which I have dealt
ingenuously and without shifting, holding it the duty of a
christian. especially of a minister of the gospel, in the matter
of his duty and calling, so to do. I have now only to add
these few words.
I hope I have made it sufficiently to appear, that what I
have spoken, written, or acted in this matter, was from nc
malicious or sinistrous end or intention against his majesty’s
person or government, but from a principle of true piety to—
wards God, and true loyalty towards his majesty : as I have
demonstrated those from the tenor of my carriage and act-
ings, so have I herein confidence towards God, and, in the
persuasion of the integrity of my soul in this particular, may,
with a good conscience, not only make this declaration be-
fore your lordships, but also hazard to step into eternity.
N ext, my lord, I hope I have made it appear that besides
the conformity my accession to these things bath with the
word of God, so they have a foundation in the national
covenant, and in the Solemn League and Covenant, the obliga-
tion whereof I dare not but profess to own as binding and
standing on those kingdoms ; and that they are agreeable to
the actings of public authority before the English their in-
vading of this nation, to the canons of the church, law of the
kingdom, and the public declared judgment both of church
and state before those times. And, my lord, if this will not
plead an oblivion and indemnity for me, but that, notwith-
standing of all this, I shall be judged a seditious person and
traitor, not only shall the whole church and kingdom of
Scotland be involved in the guilt of sedition and treason, and
few or none have any security for their lives, honours, and
estates, further than the king’s mercy doth give, but also a
very dangerous foundation shall be laid in time to come, for
men of differing judgments, upon every emerging revolution,
to prosecute the worsted party unto death, notwithstanding
they have the public authority, and the laws then standing,
to plead in defence of their actings.
I know, my lord, it lieth on the spirits of some as a
prejudice against me, that I am supposed to have been a
chief instrument and ringleader in those declarations, laws,
canons, and public actings of the kirk and kingdom, which
I do now plead in my own defence. I shall not say that
this hath any rise from any, who, to lighten their own bur-
den, would increase mine, holding that unworthy of any man
of an ingenuous spirit, and most unworthy of a Christian. As
I charge no man in particular, with accession to any of those
things, so, as for myself, I do for the truth’s sake ingenuously
acknowledge, that throughout the whole course of my life,
I have studied to be serious, and not to deal with a slack
hand in what I did look upon as my duty; and yet, my lord,
lest I should attribute to myself what is not due to me, I
must, for staining of pride and vain—glory, say, I was not
honoured to be of those who laid the foundation in this kirk
and kingdom. I am not ashamed to give glory to God, in
acknowledging that until the year 1638, I was treading other
steps, and the Lord did then graciously recover me out of the
snare of prelacy, ceremonies, and the service-book, and a
little thereafter put me into the ministry. Yet I never
judge myself worthy to be accounted a ringleader in any of
these superstructures of that blessed work, there being a
great many elder for years, and more eminent for piety, parts,
prudence, faithfulness, and zeal, whom I did reverence and
give precedency to in those things.
It may also, my lord, haply be, and a little I have been
informed of it, that besides anything contained in the indict—
ment, there be some other things that bear weight upon the
spirits of some of the members of this house, from some re-
ports that have passed of my carriage, towards his majesty’s
royal father, towards himself, and some others. As to those
things, my lord, if there be anything of that kind, I do most
humbly and seriously beg, and I think I may most justly
expect, both in order to justice, and to the peace of their own
consciences, that seeing they have no proof of it, but at least
have taken it upon information, that they would altogether
lay it aside, and lay no weight upon it; or else, before they
give judgment of me, they would let me know of it,‘ and
allow me a fair bearing upon it; and if I cannot vindicate
myself, let me hear the weight of it.
In the next place, my lord, knowing that it is wondered
at by not a few of the members of this parliament, that I


APPENDIX.
701



should stand to my own justification in those things whereof
I am challenged, and this is looked upon as a piece of peremp-
tory and wilful humour, which if I pleased I might easily lay
aside. My lord, I humbl beg so much charity of all that
hear me, as to think that I have not so far left the exercise
of all conscience towards God, and of all reason towards
myself and my dearest relations in the world, as upon deli-
beration to hazard, if not cast away both my life and soul at
once. God knows, it is not my humour, but conscience that
sticks with me; and could I lay it aside, and not sin against
God, and dissemble with men, by professing or confessing
what I think not, I should not stand in the defence of one
of those things for the minute of an hour: but, my lord,
having, with prayer and supplications to the God of truth,
searched the word of God, and consulted the judgment and
practice of the Reformed churches, especially our own since
the reformation from popery, and the writings of many
sound and orthodox divines, and having frequently conversed
with the godly ministry, and praying people of this nation,
and tried the pulse of their spirits anent the national cove-
nant, and Solemn League and Covenant, the particulars con-
tained in them, and the superstructures that have been
builded upon them, and anent sin and duty, and the power
of the civil magistrate in matters ecclesiastical; Ifind my
practice and profession anent these, agreeable to all those,
and therefore cannot reckon my light for humour and delu-
sion, but must hold it fast, till better guides be given me to
follow.
My lord, in the last place I shall humbly beg, that,
having brought so pregnant and clear evidence from the word
of God, so much divine reason and human laws, and so
much of the common practice of kirk and kingdom in my
own defence, and being already cast out of my ministry, out
from my dwelling and maintenance, myself and family put to
live on the charity of others, having now suffered eight
months‘ imprisonment, your lordships would put no further
burden upon me. I shall conclude with the words of the
prophet Jeremiah, ‘ Behold, I am in your hands,’ saith he,
‘ do to me what seemeth good to you: I know for certain
that the Lord hath commanded me to speak all those things,
and that if you put me to death, you shall bring innocent
blood on yourself, and upon the inhabitants of this city.’
My lord, my conscience I cannot submit, but this old
crazy body and mortal flesh I do submit, to do with it what-
soever you will, whether by death, or banishment, or impri-
sonment, or anything else; only I beseech you to ponder
well what profit there is in my blood: it is not the extin-
guishing me or many others, that will extinguish the Cove-
nant and work of Reformation since the year 1638. My
blood, bondage, or banishment, contribute more for the pro-
pagation of those things, than my life or liberty could do,
though I should live many years. I wish to my lord com-
missioner his grace, and to all your lordships, the spirit of
judgment, wisdom, and understanding, and the fear of the
Lord, that you may judge righteous judgment, in which you
may have glory, the king honour and happiness, and your-
selves peace in the day of your accounts.”

No. VI.
Account of the Rising which ended in the defeat at
Pentland, anno 1666.
On Monday, the 12th of November, it fell out that
(M‘Lellan of) Barscobe, and other three, who had been
sometime under hiding, adventured to come down from the
hills to a little town called the Clachan of Dalry, where four
of Turner’s men were quartered. It was early in the fore-
noon; for, hunger, and lying in the cold rain, had brought
them from the mountains. They came into an alehouse, and
called for breakfast; and while taking it, there was a cry in
the town, that the four soldiers had bound an old man in his
own house, and were threatening to strip him naked, and set
him on a hot gridiron, because he could not pay his church
tines ; which when they heard, they were necessitated to
leave their breakfast, and go to the house; where finding the
man bound, they called to the soldiers, “ Why do ye bind the
old man P" They answered, “ How dare you challenge?”
Some of the company offering to loose him, the soldiers drew
on them with their swords; and one of Barscobe’s company
shot a pistol loaden with tobacco stopple, which wounded

one, and made him fall. The soldiers violently assaulting,
some others were wounded, and all four surrendered them-
selves prisoners. This report soon reached Balmaclellan,
where a party with a minister were at prayer, who, fearing
to be involved, seized sixteen of Sir James’ men that were
quartered in the neighbourhood. Having once embarked,
fear made them proceed; as Turner, they knew, would make
terrible reprisals. They resolved to be beforehand with him,
and to surprise him and his garrison at Dumfries. They sent
private advertisement through the country, that all who were
ready should come in companies to Irongray kirk, on \Ved-
nesday night, that they might enter Dumfries by daybreak.
Ere they could muster, the sun was up; and it was ten
o'clock before they got to Dumfries. They approached with-
out giving the least surprise. Turner and his men were so
secure, they had not even a watch or sentinel at the bridge
that leads from Galloway to the town. They were fifty
horse, provided with cloaks girded over their shoulder
for fighting, and about two hundred foot. Marshalled in
order, they came to the Bridgend of Dumfries, their com-
mander riding before. The horse marched into the town;
the foot stayed without. Corsack and Robinson, with other
two, were to ride up quickly to T urner’s quarters, the rest of
the party to follow at a little distance. \Vhen the four came
to the foot of the stair, and foregainst the window where
Turner lodged, he was in bed; but hearing a noise of horse,
he came running on the alarm, to the window, in his night
gown. Seeing Corsack, with others, he cries, “ Quarters,
gentleman; for Christ’s sake, quarters: there shall be no
resistance.” Whereupon Corsack, a meek and generous
gentleman, cried to him, “ If you come down to us, and
make no resistance, on the word of a gentleman you shall
have quarters'n W hile they were speaking, the commander
comes up, and seizing Turner, presented a pistol, or carabine,
to have shot him; but Corsack interfered, saying, “ You
shall as soon kill me; for I have given him quarters.” So
he forbore.
A party was sent up to search his rooms, and bring down
his papers and trunks, which were much emptied, be having
before sent the money he had exacted in oppression, to
Glasgow, as I heard say, in some loads. They brought him-
self down stairs in his night-gown, night-cap, drawers, and
socks, and set him on a little beast barebacked, with a halter
on the beast’s head, and carried him towards the cross;
where, to show their loyalty, they drank the king’s health
Parties were sent here and there to a prehend the rest of the
soldiers, one of whom only, was kil ed. Then they carried
him through the town, out at the N ether-port, and a space
down the river, to a green, by N ithside, over against the kirk
of Troqueer, he being all along in a great panic, expecting
they were going to hang him up with great solemnity. After
a little consultation, they return with him in the same
posture to his quarters, and bade him make ready to go with
them. They warned all the inhabitants to bring the arms
they had to the cross, and there they were dealt out among
the foot. In the afternoon, they marched him and other
prisoners towards the west country, uncertain what was to be
the issue of this sudden adventure.
During all this time, there was no appearance of stir among
all the gentlemen and noblemen in the country to assist or
oppose them; so, in the afternoon, they marched with him
and the rest of their prisoners the length of the kirk of Glen-
cairn, where most of them kept guard, and sent some from
them to advertise some in the west country of what w as done
there, that they might be in readiness at their coming up.
However, they were in great perplexity, getting so little 1n~
crease to their company, by reason the country could not be
ready, being so surprised. After they had met with some
out of a few parishes in the west, they came to the town of
Lanark, where it is said, they must have been near ‘2000, the
greatest they had, and there they solemnly renewed the Cove-
nant, after some word of exhortation by several; Dalziel,
with his men, being on the one side of the water. It is said,
they had the best opportunity there to have fought, and their
men were most resolute. This was on Monday before
Pentland; but shunning that opportunity, they resolved to
march, and did march that night, to the parish of Bathgate,
being in expectation there to meet with a recruit. However,
that night being both dark and stormy, with wind and rain,
and the march far, (about '20 miles,) many wandered and
fell off. When they came to Bathgate, there had been a
company of gentlemen met, who, upon hearing their approach,


a APPENDIX.






fled hard into Linlithgow, alarming them with great fear. On
the morrow, being Thursday, they marched toward Colling-
ton, where they kept guard, and quartered some places there-
about. That night, some Lothian gentlemen fell upon a
house where some of them were, shot in at the windows and
killed one of them. But after that alarm, the country
people getting to their horses pursued them near to Edin-
burgh.
After this, being anxious what to do in that sad posture,
the enemy following, and all the country appearing as their
enemies, they resolved to march back toward Galloway and
Nithsdale, and came the length of Pentland hills, five orsix
miles from Edinburgh, where they drew up to refresh them-
selves a little. This meantime, a party of the Life Guards
being commanded off Dalziel’s army appeared among the
hills about 11 o’clock of the day, against which the country-
men commanded forth a party of their horse, which encoun-
tering with them, put them to the flight, and killed some.
Here Mr Andrew M‘Cormick and Mr John Crookshanks
were killed, on the country people’s side.
Vv' hen this was past, they might have had time to march
forward; for, it is said, for three hours’ time the body of
Dalziel’s army did not appear: however, they staid till they
saw them appear. Dalziel’s men sent forth a party of their
horse, and the countr I'men sent forth a party of theirs, and
after some little conffict, Dalziel’s men did run; the other
pursued them near to their body, and then also retired to
their body, which stood on the knowe. After this. a greater
party on the other wing, from Dalziel’s army, did advance,
the rest following. The countrymen had resolved to draw
forth their men both on the right and left wing; but only
those on the left had engaged with the enemy, and did again
give them enough to do on that hand, but were not so readily
seconded by those on the right hand. Being thronged and
overpowered with multitudes, they were forced to wheel and
run, the enemy having broken their right wing ere they
were back; so they all fled. About 45 of the countrymen
were killed on the place, and about 100 taken prisoners, and
brought into Edinburgh that night. In providence, the
night fell on ere the conflict was ended, which was made a
mean of the country people’s escaping.
The prisoners were examined that night before the council.
Some of them who were designed to die presently were put
in the tolbooth. The rest were shut within the west end of
St Giles’s kirk, called Haddock’s Hold; where many, be-
ing wounded, died of their wounds. Strong guards of the
townsmen were appointed to watch that place every night.
However, by some honest woman‘s carefulness, in God’s
providence, several of them were stolen out in disguise, now
and then, till at length a way was found to get Haddock’s
Hold broken, so that all escaped after they had lain there
about a quarter of a-year, and no noise was made to search
for them again ; so that they, with others who had escaped,
lurked in Edinburgh till summer. While in prison, they
were kindly entertained by the town’s people, as also after
their escape. '
As for the rest of the history of this sad disaster, and the
executions of those who suffered, with their excellent
speeches, I refer to that book called Naphtali; which par-
ticularly sets down their names. I shall only notice that it
was greatly wondered, that such a poor inconsiderable party
of countrymen, so badly armed as they were, so outwearied
with cold, travel, and hunger, should ever have engaged such
a formidable enemy; there being scarce 900 of them, and en-
gaged against 8000 horse and foot, besides a great multitude,
attendants of noblemen and gentlemen in the country, all
well armed with all manner of furniture, for war offensive
and defensive; and yet, not only in the morning, but twice
in the afternoon, they both faced them and resolutely fought,
till they were able to do no more, being oppressed with
multitudes. It is not known what number of Dalziel's men
fell that day; but those who stood on the hill, when the
second party charged the enemy, and chased them into the
body,—some honest men, I say, who stood among ‘the rest
and saw it, affirm, they saw many empty horses run into the
body of Dalziel’s army.
All this time Turner remained in their hands, and was
conducted along with them, under an escort of sixteen horse-
men, as they were not master of a single prison, or garrison,
in all Scotland. On the evening of the battle he made his
escape,—by making a covenant with his keepers, that if they
preserved his life at that time he should pel‘Sel'Ve theirs in

case of the king’s forces’ victory :—a service which be after-
wards attempted, but could not accomplish. It is also to be
noted, that that people was little given to revenge; that,
though they had been much provoked by that cruel tyrant,
yet, when they got him in their hands, they did not so much
as offer him a stroke, but took him prisoner, and gave him
fair quarters wherever they travelled.

No. VII.
Account of the Rising which originated the Battle of
Drumclog, and ended in the defeat at Bothwell-
bridge, anno 1679.
From what has been already related in this work, we may
easily form a judgment of the dismal state of the nation on
account of the arbitrary proceedings of those who had the
management of affairs, and the causeless severities which
many innocent people endured.
The rigorous and military execution of the sanguinary
laws, now in force, could not but exasperate those who were
by this means robbed of their liberty and property, and of
everything that was dear and valuable, especially as oppres-
sions of every kind were still increasing. All legal methods
of redress were cut off from the poor suffering people.
What then could they do? Surely one may think, that it
was incumbent upon them to fall upon measures for getting
from under the feet of their cruel oppressors; for who
would choose to continue in misery, if they could by any law- I
ful justifiable method, extricate themselves from it? They
were most averse to take arms, until they were forced to it
in their own defence. And though they were obliged to
have recourse to this expedient, yet they never desired to
have an opportunity of making use of it; but, being declared
rebels on this account, they were constrained to persevere in
it, till the fury of the persecutors drove them to the rising
we are now to give an account of.
“Then they found that small meetings were more exposed
to danger than greater assemblies, they altered their method,
and resolved to assemble in one meeting, in those places
which they apprehended stood in most need of the gospel,
and where they might meet together with the greatest safety.
They who thus assembled were generally those who were
averse to the indulgence, and the accepters of it; and many
of them came armed. The orders given to the soldiers, and
the severe laws made on account of the Primate’s death,
tended to increase their numbers; but the divisions occasion—
ed by the unhappy indulgence were of great disadvantage to
them, and at last proved their ruin.
The numbers of the persecuted party on the occasion we
refer to being considerably augmented, Mr Robert Hamilton,
brother to the Laird of Preston, and some others, moved that
something might be done as a testimony against the iniquity
of the times. Accordingly, after serious consideration and
prayer, they resolved to continue to hear the gospel, notwith-
standing all the dangers to which they might be exposed,
and to publish to the world their testimony to the truth and
cause which they owned, and against the sins and defections
of the times. In consequence of this resolution, the said Mr
Hamilton, together with Mr Thomas Douglas, one of the
preachers, and about eighty armed men, were pitched upon
to go to some public place to publish their declaration, and
burn the papers mentioned in it. They judged that the 29th
' of May was the most proper time for putting this into execu-
tion. Accordingly, on the afternoon of that day, they came
to Rutherglen, a small royal burgh two miles from Glasgow,
where they extinguished the bonfires,* put their resolution
in practice, and affixed a copy of their Declaration to the
market-cross.+
When this Declaration was published, Mr Hamilton and
the rest retired from Rutherglen towards Evandale and New-
mills. This affair made'a great noise both at Glasgow and
Edinbur h. Graham of Claverhouse, (afterwards Viscount
Dundee, having unlimited powers to kill and destroy. all he
found in arms, came suddenly upon the town of Hamilton on
Saturday afternoon, the 31st of May, and in the neighbourhood
seized Mr John King, and about fourteen others, who were
not in arms, nor had anything laid to their charge. They
-“ Kindled. on occasion of the Anniversary observed on that day, in ho-
nour of me Restoration.
1' We have given a copy of the Declaration here referred to. at No. VIII. of
this Appendix. p. 710.







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. APPENDIX.
703


who escaped, and some who joined them in order to rescue
Mr King, repaired to the meeting, which they heard was to
be at London-hill next day, expecting assistance from thence.
Meanwhile Claverhouse, having likewise intelligence of that
meeting, and resolving to disperse it, marched early from Ham—
ilton on Sabbath morning the first of June, 1679, and carried
his prisoners with him, bound two and two, his men driving
them before them like so many sheep. Public worship was
begun by Mr Douglas when they were informed of Claver-
house’s approach. Upon this, all who were armed, resolved
to leave the meeting, face the soldiers, and if possible relieve
the prisoners. Accordingly, about 40 horse and 150 or 200
foot came up with Claverhouse and his party near Drum-
clog, and after a short and close engagement defeated them,
and rescued the prisoners. Claverhouse had his horse shot
under him, and narrowly escaped; above 20 of the soldiers
were killed, and several taken prisoners, whom they released
upon their being disarmed. The countrymen lost not above
two or three.’*
THE BATTLE or DRUMCLOG.+
“ IT was on a fair Sabbath morning, 1st June, A. D. 1679,
that an assembly of Covenanters sat down on the heathy
mountains of Drumclog. \Ve had assembled not to fight,
but to worship the God of our fathers. We were far from
the tumult of cities,-the long dark heath waved around us;
and we disturbed no living creatures, saving the pees-weep
(tee-wit or lapwing,) and the heathercock. As usual, we
had come armed. It was for self-defence. For desperate and
ferocious bands made bloody raids through the country, and,
pretending to put down treason, they waged war against re—
ligion and morals. They spread ruin and havoc over the face
of bleeding Scotland.
“The venerable Douglas had commenced the solemnities
of the day. He was expatiating on the execrable evils of
tyranny. Our souls were on fire at the remembrance of our
country’s sufferings and the wrongs of the church. In this
moment of intense feeling, our watchman, posted on the
neighbouring height, fired his carabine, and ran toward the
congregation. He announced the approach of the enemy.
\Ve raised our eyes to the minister. ‘I have done,’ said
Douglas with his usual firmness.—‘ You have got the
theory,—now for the practice; you know your duty; self-
defence is always lawful. But the enemy approaches.’ He
raised his eyes to heaven and uttered a prayer—brief and
emphatic-—like the prayer of Richard Cameron, ‘ Lord, spare
the green, and take the ripe.’
“ The ofiicers collected their men, and placed themselves
each at the head of those of his own district. Sir Robert
Hamilton placed the foot in the centre, in three ranks. A
company of horse, well armed and mounted, was placed,
along with another small squadron on the left. These were
drawn back, and they occupied the more solid ground; as
well with a view to have a more firm footing, as to arrest
any flanking party that might take them on the wings. A
deep morass lay between us and the ground of the enemy.
Our aged men, our females, and children, retired ; but they
retired slowly. They had the hearts and the courage of the
females and children in those days of intense religious feel-
ing, and of suffering. They manifested more concern for the
fate of relatives, for the fate of the church, than for their own
personal safety. As Claverhouse descended from the oppo-
site mountain, they retired to the rising ground in the rear
of our host. The aged men walked with their bonnets in
hand. Their long grey locks waved in the breeze. They
sang a cheering psalm. The music was that of the well-
known tune of The Alartyrs; and the sentiment breathed
defiance. The music floated down on the wind. ()ur nien
gave three cheers as they fell into their ranks. Never did I
witness such animation in the looks of men. For me, my
spouse and my little children were in the rear. My native
plains, and the halls of my father, far below, in the dale of
Aven, were full in view from the heights which we occupied.
My country seemed to raise her voice—the bleeding church
seemed to wail aloud. ‘ And these,’ I said, as Clavers and
f; To preserve our narrative unbroken we here introduce the well known
and highly graphic account of the Battle uf Drumclog—and also the Battle
m'Bothwell Bridge, at p. Nth—both in the words of the Laird of Torfoor,
being perhaps their most appropriate places; not so much, however, as
containing an actual history, but as presentingan interesting picture of the
wemful Scenes, by which we may be aided in forming a. right estimate of
the characters which they brought into play.
{r In a few copies of our Plate of this engagement, the date, by an error
of the engraver. was made 176‘) instead of i679. as above,

his troops winded slowly down the dark mountain’s side,
‘these are the unworthy slaves, and bloody executioners, by
which the tyrant completes our miseries.’
“ Hamilton here displayed the hero. His portly figure
was seen hastening from rank to rank. He inspired courage
into our raw and undisciplined troops. The brave Hackston,
and Hall of Haugh-head, stood at the head of the foot soldiers,
and re-echoed the sentiments of their chief. Burley and Cle-
land had inflamed the minds of the horsemen on the left, to
a noble enthusiasm. My small troop on the right needed no
exhortation; we were a band of brothers, resolved to con—
quer or fall.
“ The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance—
the kettle-drum mixed its tumultuous roll—they halted-—
they made a long pause. \Ve could see an officer with four
file conducting fifteen persons from the ranks to a knoll on
their left. I could perceive one in black : it was my friend
King, the chaplain of lord Cardross, who had been taken
prisoner by Clavers at Hamilton. ‘ Let them be shot through
the head,’ said Clavers, in his usual dry way, ‘ if they should
offer to run away.’ We could see him view our position
with great care. His ofiicers came around him. \Ye soon
learned that he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed
symptoms of mercy or of justice, nor offered terms of recon-
ciliation, unless when he dreaded that he had met his match ;
and even then, it was only a manoeuvre to gain time, or to
deceive. His flag approached the edge of the bog. Sir
Robert held a flag sacred; had it been borne by Clavers
himself, he had honoured it. He demanded the purpose for
which he came. "I come,’ said he, ‘in the name of his
sacred majesty, and of colonel Grahame, to offer you a par-
don, on condition that you lay down your arms, and deliver
up your ringleaders.’-—-‘ Tell your oflicer,’ said Sir Robert,
‘ that we are fully aware of the deception he practises. He
is not clothed with any powers to treat, nor was he sent out
to treat with us, and attempt a reconciliation. The govern-
ment against whom we have risen, refuses to redress our
grievances, or to restore to us our liberties. Had the tyrant
wished to render us justice, he had not sent by the hands of
such a ferocious assassin as Claverhouse. Let him, however,
show his powers, and we refuse not to treat; and we shall
lay down our arms to treat, provided that he also lay down
his. Thou hast my answer.’—‘ It is a perfectly hopeless
case,’ said Burley, while he called after the flag-bearer—
‘ Let me add one word by your leave, General. Get thee
up to that bloody dragoon, Clavers, and tell him that we
will spare his life, and the lives of his troops, on condition
that be, your Clavers, lay down his arms, and the arms of
these troops. We will do more : as we have no prisons on
these wild mountains, we will even let him go on his parole,
on condition that he swear never to lift arms against the re-
ligion and the liberties of his country.’ A loud burst of
applause re—echoed from the ranks; and, after a long
pause in deep silence, the army sung the following verses
of a psalm :
‘ There, arrows of the bow he brake;
the shield, the sword, the war.
More glorious thou than hills of prey,
more excellent art far.
Those that were stout of heart are spoil'd,
they slept their sleep outright :
And none of those their hands did find.
that were the men of might.‘
“ \V hen the report was made to Claverhouse, he gave the
word with a savage ferocity, ‘their blood be on their own
heads. Be N 0 quarters the word this day.’ His fierce
dragoons raised a yell, and ‘1V0 quarters’ re-echoed from
rank to rank, while they galloped down the mountain’s side.
It is stated that Burley was heard to say, ‘ Then be it so—
even let there be N o quarters—at least on my wing of the
host. So God send me a meeting,’ cried he aloud, ‘with
that chief under the white plume. My country would bless
my memory, could my sword give his villanous carcass to
the crows.’
"Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the
foemen ; and at the moment when the enemy halted to fire,
the whole of our foot dropped on the heath. Not a man was
seen to remain down, when the order was given to rise and
return the fire. The first rank fired, then kneeled down,
while the second fired. They made each bullet tell. As
often as the lazy rolling smoke was carried over the enemy’s
heads, a shower of bullets fell on his ranks. Many a gallant
man tumbled on the heath. The fire was incessant. It re-
sembled one blazing sheet of flame, for several minutes, along




704
APPENDIX.



the line of the Covenanters. Clavers attempted to cross the
morass, and break our centre. ‘ Spearmen ! to the front,’—
I could hear the deep-toned voice of Hamilton say—‘ Kneel,
and place your spears to receive the enemy’s cavalry; and
you, my gallant fellows, fire—God and our Country is our
word.’ Our officers flew from rank to rank. Not a peasant
gave way that day. As the smoke rolled off, we could see
Clavers urging on his men with the violence of despair. His
troops fell in heaps around him, and still the gaps were filled
up. A galled trooper would occasionally flinch; but ere he
could turn or flee, the sword of Clavers was waving over his
head. I could see him, in his fury, strike both man and
horse. In the fearful carnage, he himself sometimes reeled.
He would stop short in the midst of a movement, then con-
tradict his own orders, and strike the man, because he could
not comprehend his meaning.
“ He ordered flanking parties to take us on our right and
left. ‘ In the name of God,’ cried he, ‘ cross the bog, and
charge them on the flanks, till we get over this morass. If
this fail, we are lost.’
“ It now fell to my lot to come into action. Hitherto we
had fired only some distant shot. A gallant officer led his
band down to the borders of the swamp, in search of a proper
place to cross. We threw ourselves before him. A severe
firing commenced. My gallant men fired with great steadi-
ness. \Ve could see many tumbling from their saddles. Not
content with repelling the foemen, we found our opportunity
to cross, and attack them sword in hand. The Captain,
whose name I afterwards ascertained to be Arrol, threw him-
self in my path. In the first shock, I discharged my pistols.
His sudden start in his saddle, told me that one of them had
taken effect. \Vith one of the tremendous oaths of Charles
II. he closed with me. He fired his steel pistol. I was in
front of him ;—my sword glanced on the weapon, and gave a
direction to the bullet, which saved my life. By this time,
my men had driven the enemy before them, and had left the
ground clear for the single combat. As he made a lounge at
my breast, I turned his sword aside, by one of those sweep-
ing blows, which are rather the dictate of a kind of instinct
of self~defence than a movement of art. As our strokes re-
doubled, my antagonist’s dark features put on a look of deep
and settled ferocity. N 0 man who has not encountered the
steel of his enemy in the field of battle, can conceive the
looks and the manner of the warrior, in the moments of his
intense feelings. May I never witness them again !—We
fought in silence. My stroke fell on his left shoulder ; it cut
the belt of his carabine, which fell to the ground. His blow
cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone, and rid me also of
the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced too near
to me, to be struck with the sword. I grasped him by the
collar. I pushed him backward; and with an entangled
blow of my Ferrara, I struck him across his throat. It out
only the strap of his head-piece, and it fell off. With a sud-
den spring, he seized me by the sword-belt. Our horses
reared, and we both came to the ground. \Ve rolled on the
heath in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters
that my brave fellows had returned from the rout of the flank-
ing party, to look after their commander. One of them was
actually mshing on my antagonist, when I called him to re-
tire,* We started to our feet. Each grasped his sword.
We closed in conflict again. After parrying strokes of
mine enemy which indicated a hellish ferocity, I told him
my object was to take him prisoner; that sooner than kill
him, I should order my men to seize him. ‘ Sooner let my
soul be brandered on my ribs in hell,’ said he, ‘than be cap-
tured by a \Vhigamore. No quarter is the word of my
Colonel, and my word. Have at thee, Whig—I dare the
whole of you to the combat.’ ‘ Leave the madman to me—
leave the field instantly,’ said I to my party, whom I could
hardly restrain. My sword fell on his right shoulder. His
sword dropped from his hand. I lowered my sword, and
offered him his life. ‘ N0 quarter,’ said he, with a shriek of
despair. He snatched his sword, which I held in my hand,
and made a lounge at my breast. I parried his blows till he
was nearly exhausted; but gathering up his huge limbs, he
put forth all his energy in a thrust at my heart. My Andro
Ferrara received it, so as to weaken its deadly force; but it
made a deep cut. Though I was faint, with loss of blood.
I left him no time for another blow. My sword glanced
1‘ It was on this occasion that the Laird used these words-J‘ Bauldy Alli-
son ! let your of'flcer settle this trifle—I never take odds to combat a foe, be
he even a life-guard.”

on his shoulder, cut through his buff coat, and skin, and
flesh ; swept through his jaw, and laid open his throat from
ear to ear. The fire of his ferocious eye was quenched in a
moment. He reeled, and falling with a terrible clash, he
poured out his soul, with a torrent of blood, on the heath.
I sunk down insensible for a moment. My faithful men,
who never lost sight of me, raised me up.—In the fierce com—
bat, the soldier suffers most from thirst. I stooped down, to
fill my helmet with the water which oozed through the mo—
rass. It was deeply tinged with human blood, which flowed
in the conflict above me- I started back with horror ; and
Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set forward in
the tumult of the battle.
“ All this while, the storm of war had raged on our left.
Cleland and the fierce Burley had charged the strong com-
pany sent to flank them. These officers permitted them to
cross the swamp, then charged them with a terrible shout.
‘ 1V0 quarter,’ cried the dragoons. ‘ Be N0 quarter to you,
then, ye murderous loons,’ cried Burley ; and at one blow he
cut their leader throu h the steel cap, and scattered his brains
on his followers. His every blow overthrew a foeman.
Their whole forces were now brought up, and they drove the
dragoons of Clavers into the swamp. They rolled over each
other. All stuck fast. The Covenanters dismounted, and
fought on foot. They left not one man to bear the tidings
to their Colonel.
“ The firing of the platoons had long ago ceased, and the
dreadful work of death was carried on by the sword. At
this moment, a trumpet was heard in the rear of our army.
There was an awful pause; all looked u . It was only the gal-
lant Captain Nisbet,* and his guide, oodburn of Mains : he
had no re-enforcements for us, but himself was a host. “'ith
a loud huzza. and flourish of his sword, he placed himself by
the side of Burley, and cried. ‘Jump the ditch, and charge
the enemy.’ He and Burley struggled through the marsh.
The men followed as they could. They formed, and marched
on the enemy’s right flank.
“At this instant, Hamilton and Hackstone brought for
ward the whole line of infantry in front. ‘ God and our
Country,’ re-echoed from all the ranks. ‘ N0 quarters,’ said
the fierce squadrons of Clavers. Here commenced a bloody
scene.
“ I seized the opportunity this moment offered to me of
making a movement to the left of the enemy to save my
friend King and the other prisoners. We came in time to
save them. Our swords speedily severed the ropes which
tyranny had bound on the arms of the men. The weapons
of the fallen foe supplied what was lacking of arms ; and with
great vigour we moved forward to charge the enemy on the
left flank. Claverhouse formed a hollow square-himself in
the centre ; his men fought gallantly ; they did all that
soldiers could do in their situation. Wherever a gap was
made Clavers thrust the men forward, and speedily filled it
up. Three times he rolled headlong on the heath, as
he hastened from rank to rank, and as often he re-
mounted. My little band thinned his ranks. He paid us a
visit. Here I distinctly saw the features and shape of this
far-famed man. He was small of stature, and not well
formed; his arms were long in proportion to his legs ; he had
a complexion unusually dark ; his features were not lighted
up with sprightliness, as some fabulously reported; they
seemed gloomy as hell; his cheeks were lank and deeply
furrowed; his eye-brows were drawn down, and gathered
into a kind of knot at their junctions, and thrown up at their
extremities; they had, in short, the strong expression given
by our painters to those on the face of Judas Iscariot; his
eyes were hollow ; they had not the lustre of genius, nor the
fire of vivacity; they were lighted up by that dark fire of
wrath which is kindled and fanned by an internal anxiety,
and consciousness of criminal deeds : his irregular and large
teeth were presented through a smile, which was very un-
natural on his set of features ; his mouth seemed to be un-
usually large, from the extremities being drawn backward
and downward—as if in the intense application to something
cruel and disgusting; in short, his upper teeth projected over
his under lip, and, on the whole, presented to my View the
mouth on the image of the Emperor Julian the Apostate.—
In one of his rapid courses past us, my sword could only
shear off his white plume and a fragment of his buff coat. In
a moment he was at the other side of his square. Our
officers eagerly sought a meeting with him. ‘ He has the
* See Life of Hardhill, p. 684.



APPENDIX .
705


proof of lead,’ cried some of our men—-‘ Take the cold steel,
or a piece of silver.’ ‘ No,’ cried Burley; ‘it is hls rapid
movement on that fine charger that bids defiance to anything
like an aim in the tumult of the bloody fray. 1 could sooner
Shoot ten heathercocks on the wing, than one flying Clavers.’
At that moment, Burley, whose eye watched his antagonist,
pushed into the hollow square. But Burley was too impar
tient. His blow was levelled at him before he came within
its reach. His heavy sword descended on the head of
Clavers‘ horse, and felled him to the ground—Burley’s men
rushed pell-mell on the fallen Clavers, but his faithful dra-
goons threw themselves upon them, and by their overpower-
ing force drove Burley back. Clavers was, in an instant, on
afresh steed. His bugleman recalled the party who were
driving back the flanking party of Burley. He collected his
whole troops to make his last and desperate attack—He
charged our infantry with such force, that they began to reel.
It was only for a moment. The gallant Hamilton snatched
the white flag of the Covenant, and placed himself in the
fore-front of the battle. Our men shouted ‘ God and our
Country,’ and rallied under their flag. They fought like
heroes. Clavers fought no less bravely. His blows were
aimed at our officers. His steel fell on the helmet of Hackston,
whose sword was entangled in the body of a fierce dragoon
who had just wounded him. He was borne by his men into
the rear. I directed my men on Clavers. ‘ Victory or death,’
was their reply to me. Clavers received us. He struck a
desperate blow at me, as he raised himself with all his force in
the saddle. My steel cap resisted it. The second stroke I
received on my Ferrara, and his steel was shivered to pieces.
\V e rushed headlong on each other. His pistol missed fire
—it had been soaked in blood. Mine took efiect. But the
wound was not deadly. Our horses reared. We rolled
on the round. In vain we sought to grasp each other. In
the me é, men and horse tumbled on us. \Ve were for a
few moments buried under our men, whose eagerness to save
their respective oflicers brought them in multitudes down
upon us. By the aid of my faithful man, Gawn, I had ex-
tricated myself from my fallen horse; and we were rushing
0n the bloody Clavers, when we were again literally buried
under a mass of men ; for Hamilton had by this time brought
up his whole line, and he had planted his standard where we
and Clavers were rolling on the heath. Our men gave three
cheers, and drove in the troops of Clavers. Here I was
borne along with the moving mass of men; and, almost
suffocated, and faint with the loss of blood, I knew nothing
more till I opened my eyes on my faithful attendant. He
had dragged me from the very grasp of the enemy, and had
borne me into the rear, and was bathing my temples with
water. \Ve speedily regained our friends ; and, what a
spectacle presented itself ! It seemed as if I beheld an im-
mense moving mass heaped up together in the greatest con-
fusion. Some shrieked, some groaned, some shouted, horses
neighed and pranced, swords rung on the steel helmets. I
placed around me a few of my hardy men, and we rushed
into the thickest of the enemy in search of Clavers; but it
was in vain. At that instant his trumpet sounded the loud
notes of retreat; and we saw on a knoll Clavers borne away
by his men. He threw himself on a horse, and without
sword, without helmet, he fled in the first ranks of the re-
treating host. His troops galloped up the hill in the utmost
confusion. My little line closed with that of Burley’s. and
took a number of prisoners. Our main body pursued the
enemy two miles, and strewed the ground with men and
horses. I could see the bareheaded Clavers in front of his
men, kicking and struggling up the steep sides of Calder bill.
He halted only a moment on the top to look behind him, then
plunged his rowels into his horse, and darted forward; nor
did he recover from this panic till he found himself in the
city of Glasgow.”
“And, my children,” the Laird would say, after he had
told the adventures of this bloody day, “ I visited the field
of battle next day; I shall never forget the sight. Men and
horses lay in their gory beds.
rible spectacle.
life in the single combat, and where the unhappy Captain
Arrol fell. I observed that, in the subsequent fray, the body
had been trampled on by a horse, and his bowels were poured
out}? Thus, my children, the defence of our lives, and the
‘f’ This fact is recorded in Crookshank's History, vol. I. chap. 13. But the
author does not mention the name of the Laird by whom Arrol fell.
I turned away from the hor- i
I passed by the spot where God saved my ‘

regaining of our liberty and religion, has subjected us to
severe trials. And how great must be the love of liberty,
when it carries men forward, under the impulse of self-
defence, to witness the most disgusting spectacles, and to en-
counter the most cruel hardships of war 1”
The country people after this action resolved, since they
could not separate without evident hazard, to keep together
till they saw how matters would turn out. They marched
that night to Hamilton, whilst Claverhouse escaped to Glas-
gow, and alarmed the soldiers there. Next day, Mr Hamil-
ton, and those who joined them in their march, being too
much flushed with their success, marched to Glasgow, and
entered the town about ten o’clock; but after six or eight
were killed and two or three wounded, they were obliged
to quit the place, and retire to Hamilton, where they pitched
a sort of camp.
Such was the inhumanity of the soldiers, that seven dead
bodies lay on the street from eleven in the forenoon till
night; and when they were taken into houses to be dressed
for their burial, the soldiers came and stripped them of their
dead clothes; nay, when they permitted them to be buried,
none durst appear to perform this service but women, whom,
notwithstanding, the soldiers attacked, cutting the palls with
their swords. When the women used their plaids for palls,
the soldiers took their plaids from them. In short, they
were obliged to set the coffins in the alms-house, near the
High Church, where they continued till the soldiers left
Glasgow.
Early on the 3d of June, the council met, and having re—
ceived a false account of these transactions, issued a pro-
clamation against the rebels, as they called them. The
council issued another proclamation, ordering the militia
to rendezvous, and to join and act with the regular forces,
under severe penalties; and, ordering all the heritors and
freeholders to attend the king’s host, made all preparations
they judged necessary for suppressing the rebellion, as it was
termed.
On the same day, lord Ross, and the oflicers in Glasgow,
finding that the gathering of the country people still increas-
ed, marched with the forces to Kilsyth, and carried with
them in carts some of the wounded countrymen, who fell
into their hands; and on the 6th were joined by the earl of
Linlithgow at Larbertmuir; but being falsely informed that
the west country army was 8,000 strong, they wrote to the
council, that it was the general sense of the officers, that his
majesty should be applied to for assistance from England.
Meanwhile, matters were so managed at court, that the
duke of Monmouth was pitched upon to command an army
for suppressing the insurrection. \Vhen the council received
the news of this, they, on the 15th, wrote to court, and pro-
posed that Dalziel might be made lieutenant-general under
the duke.
The success which the countrymen met with at Drumclog,
gave opportunity to many to join them from all quarters, consid-
ering the necessity there was to assist them in this extremity,
and that they themselves were liable to the same danger
from their enraged enemies. They never, as Mr Wodrow
thinks, exceeded 4,000, though Echard would have them to
be 17,000 when they were routed at Bothwell ; but then
many were but ill armed, and it was their loss that they had
not ofi'icers who understood the art of war.
“7 hen the king's forces left Glasgow, Mr \Velch and
several others came thither from Carrick, and interred the
bodies of those who had been killed in the late attempt, to-
gether with the heads of the sufferers for Pentland. They
had showed the like kindness to the heads and hands of
those which had been set up at Kilmarnock, Irvine, and
Ayr, and were well received by the good people everywhere
as they marched along.
It being agreed upon to publish a declaration to the world,
showing the reasons of their conduct, Mr Hamilton, who
took upon him the command, Mr Douglas, Mr Cargil, and
some others, were of opinion, that the indulgence should be
condemned in it. This, however, was opposed by Mr IVelch,
the laird of‘ Kaitloch, and others; but Mr Hamilton and his
adherents being more numerous, the following general de~
claration was agreed to by the majority :—
“ \Ve, who are here providentially convened in our own
defence, for preventing and removing the mistakes and mis-
apprehensions of all, especially of those whom we wish to be
and hope are friends, to decliartej our present purposes and en~
;#
706
APPENDIX.







_,
deavours to be only in vindication and defence of the true
reformed religion in its profession and doctrine, as we stand
obliged thereunto by our national and Solemn League and
Covenants, and that solemn acknowledgment of sins, and
engagement to duties, made and taken in the year 1648, de-
claring against popery, prelacy, Erastianism, and all things
depending thereupon.” ~ 7 '
At another meeting, Mr Hamilton, and those of his senti-
ments, moved, that they might observe a day of fasting and
humiliation before they should be‘engaged with the enemy.
They who were of different sentiments with Mr Hamilton
would not agree to his reasons of humiliation, and so no, fast
was kept. Thus, divisions broke this little. army, before
the were broken by the enemy. ' - ~
\ hen the cause of their appearing and continuing insarms
came to be considered at a meeting of the officers, which
they called a council am‘, Mr Hamilton and his adherents
were for having it stated upon the footingof the Rutherglen
Declaration ; but they who favoured the indulgence proposed,
that the king’s authority should be expressly owned, accord-
ing to the thirdv article of the Solemn League and Covenant.
Against this it was argued; that, as they had made no declar-
ation against ‘him, ‘so they must be excused, and not urged
to declare positively for him ; especially as he was now in a
stated opposition to the interest of- Christ, and had, upon the
matter, declared war against his people, and all the present
opposition, cruelty, and persecution in Scotland, for redress of
which they were now appearing, were carried on in his name.
The Covenants, they said, only bound them to him in the
preservation and defence of the true religion, and the liberties
of the kingdoms; but the king had actually overturned the
true religion, set up prelacy and Erastianism, ruined the cove-
nanted work of reformation, invaded the liberties of the king-
dom, persecuted to the death the assertors of both, and plainly
broke the conditions of government sworn at his coronation.
To this it was answered, That, in 1638, the Assembly and
Covenanters owned the king's authority, though he had de-
clared war against them; That this method of throwing off
the king’s authority ‘would obstruct the redress of their
grievances, and frustrate the design of their appearance.
But here the reader must observe, that Mr Hamilton and his
adherents proposed no declaration against the king’s lawful
authority ; they only would not positively mention him or his
interest in the declaration: and it is certain, that what they
asserted, concerning the king’s opposition to the true religion,
&c., was fact. How far their inference was just, must be left
with the reader. However, they who opposed Mr Hamilton
and his adherents so far prevailed, as on the 13th of June to
get a declaration published at Glasgow, called the Hamilton
Declaration, wherein the king’s interest is expresslyasserted.*
The reader may easily see,'that this little army must have
laboured under great disadvantages from their divisions, when
the enemy was coming upon them.
Here it will be proper to return to the king’s army. The
army under the command of the earl of Linlithgow, being
cantoned about Edinburgh, came on the 17th to Kirkhill-
park, belonging to :10rd Cardross, who suffered much at this
time by the soldiers. . On the 18th, the duke of Monmouth
came to Edinburgh, and was admitted a privy-counsellor.
On the 19th, he went to the army, and marched slowly to-
wards Hamilton; ‘Next day,’he sent to the council, com-
plaining that their march ‘was retarded for want of pro visions,
which were accordingly sent him.- But some think the rea-
sons of his Grace’s slow motions ‘were, because he expected
some application tobe' madeLto him by thosenow in arms.
On the 20th, the council received a letter ‘from the king,
approving of.-their.proceedings,~and requiring that they should
prosecute the rebels with fire and sword,an'd all other ex-
tremities of war.; ;These ‘orders .our- managerswere ready
enough to obey; and'accordingly they transmitted‘a copy
of his majesty’s letter to 'the' duke, whose army then lay
within two miles of the Kirk of Shotts, and was about ten
thousand strong, which; was more than twice the number of '
those they had to'de'al with
There were, at this time, pains taken to dispose those in
arms to lay before the duke their grievances, with professions
of loyalty to the king ;. but their discords still increasing did
much damage; for. as the time of action approached, their
numbers deci'easedrbefore the king’s army came up.‘ When
they heard of Monmouth’s arrival, a motion was made to‘
model their army, and pitch upon such officers as were best
*- See the Declaration referred to, at p. 71 I.
i be forborne and referred to be determined by their proper
in view.
chosen, that so they might be entirely united in the time or
after the whole west country army was routed.
-by overwhelming forces, and while Dalziel and Clavers swept
. ed country. This was their situation chiefly from the year



skilled in military affairs. About this time, a person un-
known came into one of their meetings with a paper, as he l
said, from some ministers and others, which they earnestly
desired all might sign. The tenor of it was, “ We the oth-
cers of the Presbyterian army, do hereby declare, That we
have no intention or design to overturn the government, civil
or ecclesiastical, whereunto we are solemnly sworn by our
national and Solemn League and Covenant; and that it is our
judgment and opinion. that all matters now in controversy
judicatories, viz., a free and unlimited parliament, and a
lawful General Assembly.” But both these proposals were
dropped for a time.
On Saturday the 21st, the officers met, and their debates
ran higher than ever, though the king’s forces were almost
At this meeting it was urged, that all places in the
army should be declared vacant, and officers harmoniously
action. Mr Hamilton, and those of his way of thinking,
declared their willingness, on condition of the right stating
of the quarrel. Upon this, the indulgence was again brought
upon the carpet, and the dispute was carried to such a pitch,
that Mr Hamilton, .Iohn Paton, William Carmichael,
Andrew Turnbull, and some others, left the meeting. Those
who remained made choice of a new preses and clerk, and
entered upon business; but were unwilling to nominate
officers when so many had withdrawn. However, being
acquainted with Monmouth's willingness to receive applica-
tions from them, and that being an affair which could admit
of no delay, they unanimously voted a supplication to his
Grace, wherein, after giving a general account of their griev-
ances, they prayed that some of their number might have
liberty, under safe conduct, to come and lay before him their
grievances and requests.
On Sabbath the 22d, the duke, and his army were come
to Bothwell-muir, and their advanced guards to Bothwell
town, about a quarter of a mile from the bridge. The
countrymen lay encamped on the south of the river Clyde in
I-Iamilton—muir, and had an advanced party ready to dispute
the passage at Bothwell~bridge, if the king’s army should
attempt it.—~Early that morning, Mr David Hume, the
Laird of Kaitloch, and some say Mr John Welch in disguise,
went to the duke with the supplication. They had easy
access, and, besides the supplication, prayed, “That they
might be allowed the free exercise of religion, and to attend
gospel ordinances dispensed by their own faithful Presbyter-
ian ministers without molestation; that a free Parliament
and a free General Assembly, without the clogs of oaths and
declarations, should be allowed to meet for settling affairs
both in church and state; and that all those who now are or
have been in arms should be indemnified.” The duke
heard them patiently, but refused to treat with them till they
had laid down their arms, and submitted to the king’s mercy.
He sent them back to their friends, and ordered them to
bring an answer in half an hour at farthest. In short,
when the commissioners came to the army, they renewed
their debates, and so no answer was returned.
The kings troops in the mean time had leisure to plant
their cannon; and lord Livingston began the attack on the
bridge with the foot guards. The countrymen stood their
ground for nearly an hour, and defended the bridge with
great gallantry. Hackston of Rathillet, of their commanders,
showed a great deal of bravery upon the occasion; but their
ammunition failing them, and not being properly supported,
they were obliged to quite the bridge where their main
strength lay. Upon this, the duke ordered the whole army
to pass the bridge with the cannon before them, and soon
THE BATTLE or BOTIIWELL BRIDGE.*
IT is well known, that after the disastrous event now to be
described, when the ranks of the patriotic Whigs were broken
the south and west of Scotland like the blast of the desert,
breathing pestilence and death—the individual Wanderers
betook themselves to the caves and fastnesses of their rug-
680 to the Revolution. The Laird also spent his days in
seclusion; but still he fearlessly attended the weekly assem-
blies in the fields, for the worship of Almighty God. ‘I hat
* See footnote at page 703.






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APPENDIX.
707




had he to fear? What more could he lose? His estate
had been confiscated. His wife and babes stript by the life-
guards of the last remnant of earthly comfolt which they
could take away; and himself doomed, as an outlaw, to be
executed by the military assassins when taken. He became
reckless of the world. “ I have lived," said he in anguish,
“to see a Prince twice, of his own choice, take the oath of
the covenants to support religion and the fundamental laws
of the land. I have lived to see that Prince turn traitor to
his country, and, with unblushing impiety, order these cove-
nants to be burnt by the hands of the executioner. I have
seen him subvert the liberty of my country, both civil and
religious—I have seen him erect a bloody inquisition. The
priests, imposed on us by tyranny, instead of wooing us over
by the loveliness of religion, have thrown off the bowels of
mercy. They occupy seats in the bloody Council. They
stimulate the cruelties of Lauderdale, M‘Kenzie, and York.
Their hands are dipped in blood to the wrists. This Council
will not permit us to live in peace. ()ur property they con—
tiscate. Our houses they convert into barracks. They drag
free men into chains. They bring no witnesses of our guilt.
They invent new tortures to convert us. They employ the
thumb-screws and bootkins. If we are silent, they condemn
us. If we confess our christian creed, they doom us to the
gibbet. If we offer a defence, a judge rises from the bench,
and with his naked sword wounds us.*~‘ Not only our sen-
tence, but the manner of our execution, is fixed before our
trial. In our last moments they command the kettle-drum
to beat one continued roll; and when a strong sense of in-
justice extorts a complaint against our barbarous treatment,
a military servant of the Council strikes the dying man in his
last moments fl‘ and, as if this sanguinary process were too
slow in exterminating us, I have seen Charles Stuart let
loose a brutal soldiery on us—on us who recalled him from
exile. and who placed the crown on his head. He has mur-
dered our men. our wives, and our clnldren. \Ye have. in-
deed, formally renounced this tyrant, by declaring war against
him ; but we have hitherto failed in the attempt to rouse the
energies of our sleeping country. It is sunk into a deadly
slumber. It has hitherto permitted the tyrant to keep us under
martial law. Clavers is our judge, his dragoons are the exe-
cutioners; and these savages do still continue to employ
even the sagacz'ty 0f blood/rounds to hunt us clown—My soul
turns away from these loathsome spectacles. They have cut
in pieces the friends and companions of my youth. M‘Kail,
Kid, and King, are no more. Cameron fell bleeding at my
side. Hackston they have butchered. My father, Cargil
--they could not spare even thee! Nor thee, dear young
Renwick ! Brown fell by the bloody Clavers, at the feet of
his wife and crying babes. I have seen my friends, and
those in whose veins my blood ran, fall in the ranks on
bloody Bothwell, as the golden flowers of the meadow beneath
the mower’s hand.
inhuman executioner mangle the limbs of my dearest
friends. I have seen the minions of tyranny perform their
disgusting service of transporting and suspending, as on
shambles, the bleeding limbs of the martyrs. I have seen
the hammer of the barbarians fix the heads of my com-
panions on thy walls. 0 bloody Edinburgh ! And oh !
disgusting spectacle! I have seen these forms, once dear
to my soul as the light of heaven, become naked and
bleached bones, under the rain and sun. I have lived to
see the dreadful effects of civil war. The frequent butcheries
in the field and on the scaffold have rendered men callous.
The ghastly heads and mangled quarters are set up before
the mob. Mothers and children daily feast their eyes with
the spectacle ; even delicate females roll their eyes over them
without a shudder. Our sufferings are not felt, for the
human bosom has lost its feelings—O God of my fathers!
bend in mercy thine eyes on my bleeding country—and on
thy weeping Kirk! Shall these men spread havoc without
bounds ? Shall our blood stream in torrents ? Shall the
Stuarts and their slaves bind these chains on the neck of our
country and of thy Kirk for ever !”
—’-'-_see an instance recorded in the Life of Robert Garnock. p. 542'01 this
was exemplified in the case of James Robertson. a merchant in
Stonehouse, Lanarkshire, who was executed at Edinburgh on 15th Decem-
ber 1682 ;—bein-: condemned on the charge-of holding it as his opinion, that
the insurgents at Pentland and Bothwell were not guilty of rebellion.
“ When he began to speak on the scaffold, he was interrupted by the ruf-
fling of drums; and on his complaining of this, the Town “ajor struck him
with his cane in the most barbarous manner. This abominable rudeness to
a dying man. and his patience and composure under it, were the Qccasion of
deep conviction of the evil of persecution, and of serious impressions on the
,
subject of religion in general.’

I have seen the greedy axe of the 1

The Laird while he was uttering these words, had thrown
himself on his knees. His arms were stretched forward
and upward ; his long hair, grey, not by age, but by labours
and sorrow, descended on his shoulders; his eyes, lighted up
by hope, in the midst of despondency, were fixed on heaven ;
and the tears streaming over his sunburned cheeks, fell in
large drops from his beard on his girdle.
At this moment his brother John entered with looks
which betrayed unusual anxiety. “ My brother,” said he,
“ you must resume these weapons, which your studious
habits have thrown into the corner. Praying must give
way to fighting now. A trooper advances at full speed, and
he is followed by a dark column. 7\\'e have not even time
to fiy.”—The mind of the Laird, like those of the rest of the
Wanderers, always brightened up at the approach of danger.
“ I guessed some such tidings from that tragedy face of yours,"
said he. “ Our perils are so great that they do not allow us
time to vent our complaints,” added he, as he girded on his
sword, and put on his helmet. “ Let us reconnoitre—VV hat
do I see? but one trooper. And that motley crowd is a
rabble—not a troop. That trooper is not of Clavers’ band;
nor does he belong to Douglas—nor to Inglis—nor to Stra-
chan’s dragoons. He waves a small flag. I can discover
the scarlet and blue colour of the Covenanter’s flag—Ha !
welcome you, John Howie of Lochgoin.*—-But what news P
-—Lives our country P—Lives the good old cause P”—
“ Glorious news,” exclaimed Howie, “ Scotland for ever!
She is free. The tyrant James has abdicated. The Stuarts
are banished by an indignant nation—Orange triumphs.
()ur wounds are binding up.-Huzza! Scotland and king
\Villiam, and the Covenant for ever !”
The Laird made no reply. He laid his steel cap on the
ground, and threw himself on his knees ; he uttered a brief
prayer, of which this was the close : “ My bleeding country,
and thy wailing Kirk, and my brethren in the furnace, have
come in remembrance before thee. For ever lauded be thy
name.” “ Hasten to the meeting at Lesmahagow. Our
friends behind me, you see, have already set out," said
Howie. And he set off with enthusiastic ardour to spread
the news.
“ These news,” said the Laird, after a long pause, while
his eyes followed the courser over the plains of Aven,--
“ these news are to me as life from the dead. Our martial
toils have not been unprofitable, nor has our blood been shed
in vain. \Ve have at last roused our sleeping country—we
have saved her—we have gained our civil and religious
liberties. I feel a fresh vigour poured into my nerves. I
feel already the full glow of liberty. I feel that I am a free
man, and no tyrant’s slave. The Parliament and the As-
sembly will, I trust, vset all things right again. My forfei—
ture shall be restored, and my wife and babes shall surround
me in the domestic circle; and, brother J ohn—what is no
small affair—I shall now have a respite—far from the horrid
din of war-quietly to finish that work, over which I have
literally trimmed the midnight lamp, with my sword and
musketoon lying before me Gawn \Vitherspoon,” said the
Laird in a higher tone, “ call my moss-headed hostler, and
let us have our horses. I have a mind to meet my old
friends at Lesmahagow. And then, when serious business
is despatched, we can take Bothwell field on our return. It
will yield me at least a melancholy pleasure to visit the spot
where we fought, I trust, our last battle against the enemies
of our country, and of the good old cause.”
Serious matters of church and state having been discussed
at the public meeting, the brothers found themselves, on the
fourth day, on the battle ground of Bothwell.
“ On that moor,” said the Laird, after along silence—and,
without being conscious of it, he had, by a kind of instinct,
natural enough to a soldier, drawn his sword, and was point~
ing with it—“ On that moor the enemy first formed under
Monmouth. There, on the right, Clavers led on the life-
guards, breathing fury, and resolute to wipe off the disgrace
of the affair of Drumclog. Dalziel formed his men on that
knoll. Lord Livingston led the van of the foemen. We
had taken care to have Bothwell Bridge strongly secured by
a barricade, and our little battery of cannon was planted on
that spot below us, in order to sweep the bridge. And we
-’-= The grandson of this person (John Howie, the Compiler of the Scots
Worthies; is the person whom the Great Unknown has been pleased to de-
signate Old Mortality. But individuals who have been from infancy fami-
hair with the history of this author of the epitaphs, this repairer of the
tombs of the martyrs, have never heard him called Old Mortality. There
are comparatively few in the west of Scotland who are not familiar with
‘the name of John Howie—01d Mortality is his name only in roman“-



708
APPEN DIX.

did rake it. The foemen’s blood streamed there. Again
and again the troops of the tyrant marched on, and our can-
non annihilated their columns. Sir Robert Hamilton was
our commander-in—chief. The gallant general Hackston
stood on that spot with his brave men. Along the river, and
above the bridge, Burley’s foot and captain N isbet’s dragoons
were stationed. For one hour we kept the enemy in check;
they were defeated in every attempt to cross the Clyde.
Livingston sent another strong column to storm the bridge.
I shall never forget the effect of one fire from our battery,
where my men stood.
in all the military glory of brave and beautiful men—the
horses pranced—the armour gleamed. In one moment
nothing was seen but a shocking mass of mortality. Human
limbs and the bodies and limbs of horses were mingled in
one huge heap, or blown to a great distance. Another
column attempted to cross above the bridge. Some threw
themselves into the current. One well-directed fire from
Burley’s troops threw them into disorder, and drove them
back. Meantime, while we were thus warmly engaged,
Hamilton was labouring to bring down the different divisions
of our main body into action; but in vain he called on
colonel Cleland’s troop—in vain he ordered Henderson’s to
fall in—in vain he called on colonel Fleming’s. Hackston
flew from troop to troop—all was confusion ; in vain he be-
sought, he intreated, he threatened. Cur disputes and fiery
misguided zeal, my brother, contracted a deep and deadly
guilt that day. The Whig turned his arm in fierce hate
that day against his own vitals. Cur chaplains, Cargil, and
King, and Kid, and Douglas, interposed again and again.
Cargil mounted the pulpit; he preached concord; he called
aloud for mutual forbearance. ‘ Behold the banners of the
enemy,’ cried he ; ‘ hear ye not the fire of the foe, and of our
own brethren? Cur brothers and fathers are falling beneath
their sword. Hasten to their aid. See the flag of the
Covenant. See the motto in letters of gold—CHRIST’S
CROWN AND THE COVENANT. Hear the voice of your
weeping country. Hear the wailings of the bleeding Kirk.
Banish discord. And let us, as a band of brothers, present
a bold front to the foemen. Follow me, all ye who love
your country and the Covenant. I go to die in the fore-front
of the battle.’ All the ministers and officers followed him—
amidst a flourish of trumpets—but the great body remained
to listen to the harangues of the factious. \IVe sent again
and again for ammunition. My men were at the last round.
Treachery, or a fatal error, had sent a barrel of raisins in-
stead of powder.* My heart sunk within me while I be-
held the despair on the faces of my brave fellows, as I struck
out the head of the vessel. Hackston called his officers to
him. \Ve threw ourselves around him. ‘ What must be
done P’ said he, in an agony of despair. ‘ Conquer or die,’
we said, as if with one voice. ‘\V e have our swords yet.
Lead back the men then to their places, and let the ensign
bear down the blue and scarlet colours. Our God and our
Country be the word.’ Hackston rushed forward. Vv’e ran
to our respective corps—we cheered our men, but they were
languid and dispirited. Their ammunition was nearly ex-
pended, and they seemed anxious to husband what remained.
They fought only with their carabines. The cannons could
no more be loaded. The enemy soon perceived this. We
saw a troop of horse approach the bridge. It was that of the
life-guards. I recognised the plume of Clavers. They ap—
proached in rapid march. A solid column of infantry fol-
lowed. I sent a request to captain Nisbet to join his troop
to mine. He was in an instant with us.—VV e charged the
life-guards. Our swords rung on their steel caps. Many of
my brave lads fell on all sides of me. But we hewed down
the foe. They began to reel. The whole column was kept
stationary on the bridge. Clavers’ dreadful voice was heard
—more like the yell of a savage, than the commanding voice
of a soldier. He pushed forward his men, and again we
hewed them down. A third mass was pushed up. Our ex-
hausted dragoons fled. Unsupported, I found myself by the
brave N isbet, and Paton, and Hackston. We looked for a
moment’s space in silence on each other. “'e galloped in
front of our retreating men. We rallied them. We pointed
to the general almost alone. We pointed to the white and
to the scarlet colours floating near him. We cried, ‘ God and
our Country.’ They faced about. \Ve charged Clavers once
more—-‘ Torfoot,’ cried N isbet, ‘ I dare you to the fore-front
5"’ The natives of Hamilton have preserved, by tradition, the name of the
merchant who did this disservice to the Covenanters’ army.
We saw the line of the foe advance ,

of the battle.’ W'e rushed up at full gallop. Our men see~
ing this, followed also at full speed.--\Ve broke the enemy’s
line, bearing down those files which we encountered. We
cut our way through their ranks. But they had now length-
ened their front. Superior numbers drove us in. They had
gained entire possession of the bridge. Livingston and
Dalziel were actually taking us on the flank.-—A band had
got between us and Burley’s infantiy. ‘My friends,’ said
Hackston to his officers, ‘ we are last on the field. We can
do no more—\Ve must retreat. Let us attempt, at least, to
bring aid to those deluded men behind us. They have
brought ruin on themselves and on us. Not Monmouth, but
our own divisions have scattered us.’
“ At this moment one of the life-guards aimed a blow at
Hackston. My sword received it—and a stroke from Nisbet
laid the foeman’s hand and sword in the dust. He fainted
and tumbled from his saddle. We reined our horses, and
galloped to our main body. But what a scene presented it-
self here! These misguided men had their eyes now fully
opened on their fatal errors. The enemy were bringing up
their whole force against them. I was not long a near
spectator of it; for a ball grazed my courser. He plunged
and reared—then shot off like an arrow. Several of our
officers drew to the same place. On a knoll we faced about
—the battle raged below us. \Ve beheld our commander
doing everything that a brave soldier could do with factious
men against an overpowering foe. Burley and his troops
were in close conflict with Clavers’ dragoons. We saw him
dismount three troopers with his own hand. He could not
turn the tide of battle, but he was covering the retreat of
these misguided men. Before we could rejoin him, a party
threw themselves in our way. Kennoway, one of Clavers’
officers, led them on. ‘ \Vould to God that this was
Grahame himself,’ some of my comrades ejaculated aloud.
‘ He falls to my share,’ said I, ‘ whoever the ofiicer be.’ I
advanced—he met me. I parried several thrusts. He re-
ceived a cut on the left arm; and the sword, by the same
stroke, shore off one of his horse's ears; it plunged and
reared. \Ve closed again. I received a stroke on the left
shoulder. My blow fell on his sword arm. He reined his
horse around, retreated a few paces, then returned at full
gallop. My courser reared instinctively as his approached.
I received his stroke on the back of my Ferrara; and by a
back stroke, I gave him a deep cut on the cheek. And be-
fore he could recover a position of defence, my sword fell
with a terrible blow on his steel cap. Stunned by the blow,
he bent himself forward—and, grasping the mane, he tum-
bled from his saddle, and his steed galloped over the field.
I did not repeat the blow. His left hand presented his
sword; his right arm was disabled; his life was given to
him. My companions having disposed of their antagonists,
(and some of them had two a-piece,) we paused to see the
fate of the battle. Dalziel and Livingston were riding over
the field, like furies, cutting down all in their way. Mon-
mouth was galloping from rank to rank, and calling on his
men to give quarter. Clavers, to wipe off the disgrace of
Drumclog, was committing fearful havoc. ‘ Can we not find
Clavers,’ said Haugh-head.—‘ No,’ said Captain Paton, ‘ the
gallant colonel takes care to have a solid guard of his rogues
about him. I have sought him over the field ; but I found
him, as I now perceive him, with a mass of his guards about
him.’ At this instant we saw our general, at some distance,
disentangling himself from the men who had tumbled over
him in the méle'. His face, and hands, and clothes, were
covered with gore. He had been dismounted, and was
fighting on foot. We rushed to the spot, and cheered him.
Our party drove back the scattered bands of Dalziel. ‘ My
friends,’ said Sir Robert, as we mounted him on a stray horse.
‘ the day is lost! But—you, Paton; you, Brownlee of Tor-
foot, and you, Haugh-head—let not that flag fall into the
hands of these incarnate devils. \Ve have lost the battle,
but, by the grace of God, neither Dalziel nor Clavers shall
say that he took our colours. My ensign has done his duty.
He is down. This sword has saved it twice. I leave it to
your care. You see its perilous situation.’ He pointed with
his sword to the spot. We collected some of our scattered
troops, and flew to the place. The standardbearer was down,
but he was still fearlessly grasping the flag staff, while he was
borne upright by the mass of men who had thrown themselves
in fierce contest around it. Its well known blue and scarlet
colours, and its motto, CHRisr’s CROWN AND COVLNANT, in
brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred enthusiasm.


APPENDIX.
709


We gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed
into the combat. The redemption of that flag cost the foe
many a gallant man. They fell beneath our broad swords;
and, with horrible execrations dying on their lips, they gave
up their souls to their Judge.
“Here I met in front that ferocious dragoon of Clavers
named Tam Halliday, who had more than once, in his raids
plundered my balls; and had snatched the bread from my
weeping babes. He had just seized the white staff of the
flag. But his tremendous oath of exultation, (we of the
covenant never swear)—his oath had scarcely passed its pol—
luted threshhold, when this Andro Ferrara fell on the guard
of his steel, and shivered it to pieces. ‘ Recreant loon !’
said I, ‘ thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.’ An-
other blow on his helmet laid him at his huge length, and
made him bite the dust. In the mélé that followed, I lost
sight of him. \Ve fought like lions—but with the hearts of
Christians. ‘While my gallant companions stemmed the
tide of battle, the standard, rent to tatters, fell across my
breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt it round my
body. ‘V e cut our way through the enemy, and carried our
general off the field.
“ Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the
dreadful spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust
rolled in a lazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly
fray. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. In the
struggle of my feelings I turned my eyes on the general and
Paton. I saw, in the face of the latter, an indescribable
conflict of passions. His long and shaggy eyebrows were
drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped his sword. ‘I
cannot yet leave the field,’ said the undaunted Paton; ‘ with
the general’s permission, I shall try to save some of our
wretched men beset by those hellhounds. \Vho will go ?—~
At Kilsyth I saw service. \Vhen deserted by my troop, I
out my way through Montrose’s men, and reached the spot
where colonels Halket and Strachan were. \rVe left the
field together. Fifteen dragoons attacked us. \Ve cut down
thirteen, and two fled. Thirteen next assailed us. \Ve left
ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven Highlanders next met
us. \Ve paused and cheered each other. ‘Now, Johnny,’
cried Halket to me, ‘ put forth your metal, else we are gone.’
Nine others we sent after their comrades, and two fied?“
Now, who will join this raid? ‘ I will be your leader,’ said
Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks—We marched on the
enemy’s flank. ‘Yonder is Clavers,’ said Paton, while he
directed his courser on him. The bloody man was, at that
moment, nearly alone, backing to pieces some poor fellows
already on their knees disarmed, and imploring him by the
common feelings of humanity to spare their lives. He had
just finished his usual oath against their ‘ feelings of human-
ity,’ when Paton presented himself. He instantly let go his
prey, and slunk back into the midst of his troopers. Having
formed them he advanced: we formed and made a furious
onset. At our first charge his troop reeled. Clavers was
dismounted—But at that moment Dalziel assailed us on the
flank and rear. Our men fell around us like grass before
the mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more
in the mélé I fell in with the general and Paton. \Ve were
covered with wounds. \Ve directed our flight in the rear of
our broken troops. By the direction of the general I had
unfurled the standard. It was borne off the field flying at
the swords point. But that honour cost me much. I was
assailed by three fierce dragoons; five followed close in the
rear. I called to Paton,—in a moment he was by my side.
I threw the standard to the general, and we rushed on the
foe. They fell beneath our swords; but my faithful steed,
which had carried me through all my dangers, was mortally
wounded. He fell. I was thrown in among the fallen
enemy. I fainted. I opened my eyes on misery. I found
myself in the presence of Monmouth—a prisoner—with other
wretched creatures, awaiting in awful suspense, their ulti-
mate destiny.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Thus the rebellion at Bothwell, as it was called, was sup-

pressed. There cannot be any just account given of the i
number of the slain, because they were murdered up and -
down the fields as the soldiers met them. It was reckoned
that 400 were killed, and 1200 surrendered prisoners on
See this chivalrous defence recorded, in the life of Captain Paton, p.
500 of this Edition. This celebrated offlcer was trained up to warfare in
the army of Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden. and affords a good speci-
men of those heroic Whigs who brought about the Revolution of 16%.
the muir, who were not only disarmed and stripped almost
naked, but made to lie down flat on the ground, and not
suffered to change their posture. If any of them so much
as raised himself, he was shot dead in an instant. There
had been a much greater slaughter, had it not been for the
duke, and the interest of several noblemen and gentlemen
at that time with his Grace. Nevertheless, great were the
severities used by the soldiers, as the following glaring in-
stances will evince z-Mr \Villiam Gordon of Earlstoun,
having his affairs to settle, could not join the country army,
but sent his son, Mr Alexander, before, who was in the action.
Mr \Villiam, not knowing of the disaster of the west country
army, and riding as quickly as he could to join them, was
met by a party of English dragoons, and, refusing to surren—
der, was killed on the spot. His friends could not get him
buried with the rest of his family, and therefore he lies in-
terred in the church-yard of Glassford. A pillar was erected
over his grave, but no inscription was suffered to be upon it.
Mr (afterwards Sir) Alexander Gordon narrowly escaped, by
means of one of his tenants, who, knowing him as he rode
through Hamilton after the defeat, made him dismount, put
his horse furniture into a dunghill, and obliged him to put
on women’s clothes, and rock the cradle, by which means he
was preserved.
Several were murdered in cold blood by the soldiers, that
same day, on the road near Hamilton. They were going to
hear sermon in the camp, and had no arms, not knowing
that the soldiers had got over the river, particularly James
Scouller and Gavin Semple in the parish of Glassford, John
Browning, Robert Stobo, William Hamilton, Robert Steil,
\Villiam Pate, and Archibald Dick, from the parish of
Evandale, and Robert Findlay in that of Stonehouse. Next
day, Arthur Inglis in Cambusnethan, reading his Bible in a
furrow, was supposed to be a whig by the soldiers who hap-
pened to perceive him, and therefore one of them fired from
a distance but missed him. The good man looked about
and not offering to move, the soldiers came and clave him
through the skull, and so despatched him; and indeed they
scarcely spared any they met with near the field of battle.
Dreadful were the consequences of this fatal action; and
had it not been for Monmouth’s lenity, they had been much
greater; for some of the officers proposed to burn Glasgow,
Hamilton, and the country round Bothwell-bridge : but the
general rejected the proposal with indignation. Most of
the gentlemen in the western shires were brought to trouble.
Sir Thomas Stuart of Coltness, son to Sir James Stuart, who
was provost of Edinburgh, was obliged to retire to Holland,
orders being issued for apprehending him, though neither
he nor any of his servants were there.
Dalziel's commission to be lieutenant-general came down
on the day of battle. The Laird of Lundin brought the
first news of the action to the council, who immediately
sent despatches to Lauderdale, and wrote to colonel Struthers
in Northumberland, to secure the borders, stop and imprison
the rebels, and give what orders he thought proper to ac—
complish this end.
The prisoners taken at Bothwell, among whom was Mr
John Kid, were sent to Edinburgh. In their journey they
were generally tied two and two, made a gazing-stock in the
places through which they passed, and exposed to the cruel
mockings of the profane, who said, “ Where is now your
God? Take him up now, and Mr IVelch, who said you
should win the day ;” though Mr \Velch never said any such
thing. \Vhen they came to Edinburgh, the council ordered
the magistrates to put them into the Inner Gray-friars’
church—yard with proper sentinels over them, viz. twenty-
four to guard them at night, and eight in the day-time. The
officers were to keep a list of the sentinels, that, if any of the
prisoners should escape, the sentinels should throw the dice,
and answer body for body. The officers were to be account-
able for the sentinels, and the town of Edinburgh for the
officers. These orders were put in execution, and the pris-
oners were all carried to the place appointed, except a few
who were put in prison, and continued in that enclosure near
five months, mostly in the open air. Here they generally
stood all day, and lay all night on the cold ground, without
any other accommodation; and, if any of them, in the night-
time, had raised their heads for a little ease, the soldiers
were sure to fire at them. It would be endless to recount
all their hardships, and with what difficulty persons were
allowed to bring them any necessary provisions, and how
the women were insulted and abused by the soldiers. It


710
APPENDIX.



was esteemed a singular favour, that some huts made of
deals were set up for them a few weeks before they were
brought out of this place.
On the ‘26th, a proclamation was issued against the rebels,
as they called them. Many names were inserted in this
proclamation, and, among others, that of Mr John King.
.l‘he two brothers of the earl of Galloway were also named
in it; but the council afterwards declared, they had made
it appear that they were not in the rebellion.
This proclamation made way for the soldiers to commit
many cruelties through the country. A great many parties
were dispersed through the west and south, but none were
so noted for their barbarities as Claverhouse, and those
under his command. Accordingly, upon any frivolous in-
formation, they attacked the houses of those whom they
pretended had been in the rising, especially through the
shire of Ayr, which had suffered so much the last year by
the Highland host.
Claverhouse, marching into Galloway, with some English
dragoons, scarcely made any distinction between those who
had been at Bothwell and others, seized all the horses they
could find, plundered the houses, particularly in the parishes
of Carsphairn, Balmaclellan, and Glencairn; ravages, mur-
der, and the most atrocious barbarities marking his progress.
Soon after this, the duke of Monmouth published a par-
don and indemnity to all tenants and subtenants who had
been at Bothwell, in case they submitted themselves against
such a day. There was likewise a bond required of the
heritors in the west country, obliging then'iselves to use their
utmost for securing those who did not accept of this favour.
But as few of the tenants chose to venture themselves into
the hands of the magistrates at that time, so the heritors
chiefly concerned, refused the bond. ()n the 6th, the duke
took his leave of the council, and in two or three days re-
turned to England.

No. \"II[.
The Declaration and Testimony of some of the true
Presbyterian parry in Scotland, published at
Rutherglen. .May ‘29111., 1679.

“Lastly. Against the acts of council, their warrants and
instructions for indulgence, and all other their sinful and un-
lawful acts, made and executed by them, for promoting their
usurped supremacy.
“ And, for confirmation of this our testimony, we do this
day, being the ‘29th of May, 1679, publicly at the cross of
Rutherglen, most justly burn the above mentioned acts, to
evidence our dislike and testimony against the same, as they
have unjustly, perfidiously, and presumptuously burned our
sacred covenants.
“ And, we hope, none will take exception against our not
subscribing this our testimony, being so solemnly published ;
since we are always ready to do in this as shall be judged
necessary, by consent of the rest of our suffering brethren in
Scotland.”
No. IX.
Account of the Skirmish a! .lirsmoss, 1680*
“ As the Lord hath been pleased to keep and preserve his
interest in this land, by the testimony of faithful witnesses
from the beginning, so some in our days have not been want-
ing, who, upon the greatest of hazards, have added their
testimony to the testimony of those who have gone before
them, and who have suffered imprisonments, finings, forfeit-
ures, banishment, torture, and death from an evil and perfi-
dious adversary to the church and kingdom of our Lord Jesus
Christ in the land. Now we being pursued by the same
adversary for our lives, while owning the interest of Christ,
according to his word, and the national and Solemn League
and Covenants, judge it our duty (though unworthy, yet
hoping we are true members of the church of Scotland) to
add our testimony to those of the Worthies who have gone
before us, in witnessing against all things that have been
done publicly in prejudice of his interest, from the beginning
of the work of reformation, especially from the year 1648
downward to the year 1660. But more particularly those
since, as '
“ 1. Against the act rescissory, for overturning the whole
covenanted reformation.
“'2. Against the acts for erecting and establishing of ab-
jured prelacy.
“ 3. Against that declaration imposed upon, and subscribed
' ' bl' st 1 ' tl * ' - l . .
by all persons In Pu 16 tm ’ wlere le 00‘ enants we re ‘ Douglas, Janet Clellan was kind to me, and brought a ch11‘-
nounced and condemned.
“ 4. Against the act and declaration published at Glasgow,
for outing of the faithful ministers who could not comply
with prelacy, whereby 300 and upwards of them were ille-
gally ejected.
“5. Against that presumptuous act for imposing an holy
anniversary day, as they call it, to be kept yearly upon the
29th of May, as a day of rejoicing and thanksgiving for the
king’s birth and restoration; whereby the appointers have
intruded upon the Lord’s prerogative, and the observers have
given the glory to the creature that is due to our Lord Re-
deemer, and rejoiced over the setting up an usurping power
to the destroying the interest of Christ in the land.
“ 6. Against the explicatory act, 1669, and the sacrilegious
supremacy enacted and established thereby.
\Ve, getting notice of a party out seeking us, sent two on
\Vednesday night, late, to know their motion, and lay on a
moor side all night. On Thursday, about ten hours, we went to
take some meat, and sent out other two, and desired them to
consult with the former two, who had not come to us, but were
lying down to sleep. They all four returned and told us it
was unnecessary to send any for intelligence, they having se-
cured it. \Vhereupon, after we had gotten some meat, we
came to a piece of grass and lay down, and presently we were
all alarmed that they were upon us, and so making ready, we
saw them coming fast on, and that about three or four hours in
the afternoon, and each one resolving to fight, I rode off to seek
a strength for our advantage, and being desired by a country-
man to go into such a place for the best strength, I went and
they followed; but coming to it I found we could go no far-
ther. and so turning and drawing up quickly, eight horse on
the right hand with R. D., and fifteen on the left with me,
there being no more, the foot, not being forty and many of them
ill-armed,—in the midst, I asked all if they were willing to
fight, who all said, Yes ; especially J. G. The enemy, whom
I took to be above an hundred and twelve, well armed, and
horsed, advanced fast, and sent first about twenty dragoons, on
foot, to take the wind of us; which we seeing, sent a party on
foot to meet them, and the rest of us advanced fast on the
enemy a strong body of horse coming hard on us ; whereupon,
when we were joined, our horse fired first, and wounded and
killed some of them, both horse and foot.
Our horse advanced to their faces, and we fired on each
other. I being foremost, after receiving their fire, and finding
the horse behind me broken, rode in amongst them, and went
out at a side, without any wrong or wound. I was pursued by
severals, with whom I fought a good space; sometimes they
following me, and sometimes I following them. At length
my horse bogged, and the foremost of theirs, which was David
Ramsay. one of my acquaintance. \Ve both being on foot,
fought it with small swords, without advantage of one another;
but at length closing. I was stricken down with three on horse-
back behind me, and received three sore wounds on the head,
and so falling he saved my life, which I submitted to. They
searched me, and carried me to their rear, and laid me down,
where I bled much,—where were brought severals of their
men sore wounded. They gave us all testimony of being
brave resolute men. \Vhat more of our men were killed I
did not see, nor know, but as they told me after, the field was
theirs. I was brought toward Douglas. They used me civilly,
and brought me drink out of an house by the way. At
urgeon to me, who did but little to my wounds, only staunch-
ing the blood.
Next morning, I was brought to Lanark, and brought be-
fore Dalziel, Lord Ross. and some others, who asked many
questions at me: but I not satisfying them with answers,
Dalziel did threaten to roast me ; and, carrying me to the tol-
booth, caused bind me most barbarously, and cast me down,
where I lay till Saturday morning, without any, except
soldiers, being admitted to speak to me, or look my wounds,
or give me any ease whatsoever. And next morning they
brought me and John Pollock, and other two of us, near two
‘F This paper, from the pen of Hackston of Rathillet, who commanded
the Presbyterians on the occasion to which it refers, is preserved in the
Appendix to vol. II. of Wodrow’s Historv.





APPENDIX.
711


miles on foot, I being without shoes, when the party, which
had broken us at first, received us. They were commanded
by Earshall. \Ve were horsed, civilly used by them on the
way, and brought to Edinburgh about four in the afternoon,
and carried about the north side of the town, to the foot of
the Canongate, where the town magistrates were who re-
ceived us; and setting me on an horse with my face backward,
and the other three bound on a goad of iron, and Mr Cameron‘s
head carried on a halbert before me, and another head in a
sack, which I knew not, on a lad’s back; they carried us up
the street to the Parliament close, where I was taken down,
and the rest loosed.

No. X.
Declaration. published at Glasgow. June 13th, 1679.
As it is not unknown to a great part of the world how
happy this Church of Scotland was while she enjoyed the
ordinances of Jesus Christ in purity and power, of the
which we have been deplorably deprived by the establish-
ment of prelacy; so it is evident, not only to impartial per-
sons, but to professed enemies, with what unparalleled pa-
tience and constancy the people of God have endured all the
cruelty, injustice. and oppression, that the wit and malice of
prelates and maliguants could invent and exercise, and being
most unwilling to act anything which might import oppo—
sition to lawful authority, or engage the kingdom in war al—
though we have been all along groaning under the overturn-
ing the work of Reformation, corruptions in doctrine, slight-
ing of worship, despising of ordinances, changing of the ancient
church discipline and government, thrusting out of so many
of our faithful ministers from their charges, confining, straitly
imprisoning, exiling, yea, and putting to death many of them,
and intruding upon their flocks a company of insufficient and
scandalous persons, and fining, confining, imprisoning, tor-
turing, tormenting, scourging, and stigmatizing poor people,
plundering their goods, quartering upon them by rude sol-
diers, selling of their persons to foreign plantations, horning
and intercommuning many of both; whereby great numbers
in every corner of the land were forced to leave their dwell-
ings, wives, children, and relations, and made to wander as
pilgrims, still in hazard of their life, none daring to reset,
harbour, supply (though starving), or so much as to speak to
them, even on death-bed, without making themselves ob-
noxious to the same punishments; and these things acted
under colour of law, in effect tending to banish, not only all
sense of religion, but also to extinguish natural affection,
even amongst persons of nearest relations, and likewise
groaning under the intolerable yoke of oppression, in our
civil interests, our bodies, liberties, and estates, so that all
manner of outrages have been most arbitrarily exercised up—
on us, through a tract of several years bypast, particularly in
the year 1678, by sending against us an armed host of bar-
barous savages. contrary to all law and humanity, and by
laying on us several impositions and taxes, as formerly, so
of late by a meeting of prelimited and overawed members,
in the convention of estates in July, 1678, for keeping up of
an armed force. intrusted as to a great part of it, into the
hands of avowed papists, or favourers of them, whereby sun-
dry invasions have been made upon us, and most exorbitant
abuses and incredible insolencies committed against us, and
we being continually sought after, while meeting in houses
for divine worship, ministers and people frequently appre-
hended, and most rigorously used; and so being necessitate
to attend the Lord’s ordinances in fields, in the most desert
places, and there also often hunted out, assaulted to the efi'u-
sion of our blood, and killing of some, we were inevitably
constrained, either to defend ourselves by arms, at these
meetings, or be altogether deprived of the gospel preached
by his faithful ministers, and made absolute slaves; at one ,
of which meetings, upon the first day of June instant, (being
the Lord’s day,) captain Graham of Claverhouse being war-
ranted, by a late proclamation, to kill whomsoever he found
in arms at field conventicles making resistance, did furiouslv
assault the people assembled; and further to provoke, did .
cruellv bind, like beasts, a minister, with some other people,
whom he had that very same morning found in their houses, ,
and severals being killed on both sides, and they knowing
certainly, that by law they behoved to die (if apprehended),
they did stand to their own defence, and continued together,
and thereafter many of our friends and countrymen being

under the same oppression, and expecting the same measures,
did freely offer their assistance. \Ve therefore thus inevita-
bly, and of absolute necessity, forced to take this last remedy
(the magistrate having shut the door by a law against any
application, that whatever our grievances be, either in things
civil or sacred, we have not the privilege of a supplicant), do
judge ourselves bound to declare, that these, with many other
horrid grievances in church and state, (which we purpose to
manifest more fully hereafter,) are the true causes of this our
lawful and innocent self-defence. And we do most solemnly,
in the presence of the almighty God the searcher of hearts,
declare, that the true reasons of our continuing in arms, are
candidly and sincerely thesez—lst. The defending and secur-
ing the true protestant religion, and presbyterian government
founded on the word of God, and summarily comprehended
in our confessions of faith and catechism, and established by
the laws of this land, to which king, nobles and people are
solemnly sworn, and engaged in our national and Solemn
League and Covenants, and more particularly the defending
and maintaining of the kingly authority of our Lord Jesus
Christ over his church against all sinful supremacy, deroga-
tory thereto, and encroaching thereupon. ‘Zdly. The pre-
serving aud defending the king’s majesty’s person and 2.1-
thority in the preservation and defence of the true religion
and liberties of the kingdom, that the world may bear wit-
ness, with our consciences, of our loyalty, and that we have
no thoughts nor intentions to diminish his just power and
greatness. 3dly. The obtaining of a free and unlimited par-
liament, and of a free general assembly, in order to the re-
dressing of our foresaid grievances, for preventing the danger
of popery, and extirpation of prelacy. This therefore being
the cause we appear for, and resolved, in God’s great name,
to own (hereby homologating all the testimonies of our faith-
ful sufferers for truth in Scotland, these eighteen years) to~
gether with acknowledgment of sins, and engagement of
duties, we humbly request the king’s majesty would restore
all things as he found them, when God brought him home
to his crown and kingdoms; and if that cannot be obtained,
then we heartily and humbly invite, intreat, beseech, and
obtest, in the bowels of Jesus Christ, all who are under the
same bonds with us, to concur in the defence of this common
cause and interest, and that they would not stand still, and
see, not only us oppressed, but this foresaid cause ruined,
adversaries highly and proudly insult against God and all
good men, friends of the truth discouraged, yea, the protes-
taut cause in Britain and Ireland, and even yourselves, with-
in a little time, made a prey of, or else forced, when we are
broken, (which the good Lord prevent) dreadfully to wrong
your consciences. Finally. Because we desire no man's
hurt nor blood, we request our countrymen, now the standing
forces of this kingdom, some of them being our friends and
kinsmen, not to fight against us, lest in so doing they be
found fighting against the Lord, whose cause and quarrel we
are sure he will own and signally countenance, seeing we
fight under his banner who is the Lord of hosts.

No. XI.
QueensferryPoper, June 4th, 1680.
We undersubscribers, for ourselves and all that shall adhere
to us, or join with us, being put to it by God, our own con-
sciences. and men, and following the examples of God’s peo-
ple, registrate in his word in such cases; we are resolved
(having acknowledged and obtained mercy, we trust, for our
former breaches of covenants with God) to bind ourselves
with a solemn and sacred bond, lest upon the one hand, we
should be carried away with the stream of the defection of
this time, that neither minds bypast vows, nor intends per-
formance, but are going a quite contrary way of seeking their
own things : and on the other hand, lest we should wander,
evanish into vanity, and come to nothing, not having any
fixed limits and end proposed to ourselves; and’as we re-
solve to covenant with and before God, so to declare before
the world, what are the designs we propose to pursue, if God
shall give us power and success, that men (knowing) if they
will know, our inward thoughts and utmost end, and our way
from the one to the other, may not be at a trouble or un-
certainty to find us out, and may have no occasion to mis-
judge, nor rnisrepute us that are friends, and those that have
the glory of God before their eyes (as we may have no cause


712
APPENDIX.


to be jealous of our intentions) and that our enemies with
their associate backsliders (sometime professed friends) may
not have ground to load us with foul and odious aspersions,
but that all knowing the truth of things, those who oppose
the kingdom of God with us, may do it without excuse, and
those who join with us, may do it on solid grounds, and in
hazarding their perishing lives, may know they do not die as
fools : it is true the unmindfulness, failing, counteracting, and
mocking that has been in our former vows and covenants with
God, together with great spiritual judgments that have fol—
lowed both upon professors and ministers, and the great tem-
poral judgments that are like to follow, puts us to some stop ;
so that we cannot but with much trembling of heart renew
our covenant, or engage anew, especially considering our own
weakness and hazard; yet the clear conviction of duty, zeal
to God’s glory, and love to Christ’s reigning, which is the
highest and greatest duty that a man can perform to God,
trusting in his mercy, who knows the integrity and rightness
of our intentions, will both instruct, enable, accept, reserve,
and prosper us : we go on declaring those, and not ing but
those to be our present purposes.
F irst. We covenant and swear, that we acknowledge
and avouch the only true and living God, Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost to be our God, and that we close with his way
of redemption by his Son Jesus Christ, and rely upon his
righteousness, as that righteousness only whereby a man can
be justified before God; and that we acknowledge the scrip~
tures of the Old and New Testament to be by divine revela-
tion, and to contain the will of God to man, and anent men;
and that we take those scriptures to be the only object matter
of our faith, and rule of our conversation in all things, and
that we do give up ourselves to God, to be renewed, instruct-
ed by his grace, and ruled in all things by his Spirit accord-
ing to his word, and shall earnestly endeavour to render him
that love, worship, and obedience that his word requires, and
his goodness obliges us to.
Secondly. That we shall, to the utmost of our power, ad-
vance the kingdom of God (if at any time God shall give us
power) by establishing throughout the lands, righteousness,
and the true reformed religion, in the truth of its doctrine,
in the purity and'power of its worship and ordinances. its
right government and discipline. and that we shall free the
church of God from the tyranny and corruption of prelacy on
the one hand, and the thraldom and encroachments of Eras-
tianism upon the other hand; and that we shall, to the utmost
of our power, relieve the church and our brethren, the sub-
jects of this kingdom (God authorizing and calling us to this,
by his raising us up, and giving us power and success in re-
moving those who by their transgression have forfeited their
authority) of that oppression that hath been exercised upon
their consciences, civil rights and liberties, that men may
serve God holily without fear, and possess their civil rights
peaceably without disturbance.
T/tz'rdly. That we confess with our mouth, and believe
with our hearts, the doctrine of the reformed churches, espe-
cially that of Scotland, contained in the Scriptures, summed
up in our confessions of faith, and engaged to by us in our
covenants, is the only true doctrine of God, and that We pur-
pose to persevere in it to the end : and that the pure worship
required and prescribed in the scriptures without the inventions,
additions, adornings, or corruptions of men, is the only true
worship of God, and the presbyterian government exercised
by lawful ministers and elders in kirk-sessions, presbyteries,
s mods, and general assemblies, is the only right government
of the church, and that this government is a distinct govern-
ment from the civil, and ought distinctly to be exercised, not
after a carnal manner by the plurality of votes, or authority of
a single person, but according to the word of God; so that the
word makes and carries the sentence, and not plurality of votes.
Fourthly. That we shall endeavour, to our utmost, the
overthrow of the kingdom of darkness, and whatever is con-
trary to the kingdom of Christ, especially idolatry and popery
in all the articles of it, as we are bound in our national cove-
nants, superstition, will-worship and prelacy, with its hier-
archy, as we are bound in our Solemn League and Covenant,
and that we shall with the same sincerity endeavour the
overthrow of that power (it being no more authority) that
hath established, and upholds that kingdom of darkness, that
prelacy, to wit, and Erastianism over the church, and hath
exercised such a lustful and arbitrary tyranny over the sub—
jects, taken all power in their hand, that they may at their
pleastire introduce popery in the church, as they have done

arbitrary government in the state. And in a word, that we
shall endeavour the extirpation of all the works of darkness,
and the relicts of idolatry and superstition (which are much
enlarged and revived in those times) and execute righteous
judgment impartially (according to the word of God, and
degree of offences) upon committers of those things, espe-
cially, to wit, the blasphemy, idolatry, atheism, sorcery, per—
jury, uncleanness, profanation of the Lord’s day, oppression,
and malignancy, that thus being zealous of God’s glory, he
may delight to dwell in the midst of us.
Fg'ftlzly. Seriously considering, that the hand of our kings,
and rulers with them, hath been of a long time against the
throne of the Lord, and that the Lord, upon this account, has
declared that he will have war with them for ever, and has
commanded his people utterly to root them out; and con-
sidering that the line and succession of our king and rulers
hath been against the power and purity of Religion, and
godliness, and Christ’s reigning over his church, and its free-
dom, and so a ainst God, and hath degenerate from that
virtue, moderation, sobriety and good government, which was
the tenor and right by which their ancestors kept their
crowns (for when they left that, they themselves were laid
aside, as our chronicles and registers do record) into an idle
and sinful magnificence, where the all and only government
is to keep up their own absoluteness and tyranny, and to keep
on a yoke of thraldom upon the subjects, and to squeeze from
them their substance to uphold their lustful and pompous
superfiuities: we having no better nor greater way at this
time of manifesting our public siding with, and loving of God,
nor seeing a more speedy way of relaxation from the wrath
of God (that hath ever lain heavy on us, since we engaged
with him) but of rejecting of them, who have so manifestly
rejected God (especially of late) and his service and reforma-
tion, as a slavery, as they themselves call it in their public
papers, especially in their late letters to the king and duke
of Lauderdale, disclaiming the covenants with God, and
blasphemously enacted it to be burned by the hand of the
hangman, governed contrary to all right laws divine and
human, exercised such tyranny and arbitrary government, so
oppressed men in their consciences and civil rights, used free
subjects, Christian and reasonable men, with less discretion
than their beasts, and so not only frustrate the end of govern-
ment, which is, that men may live peaceably and godly under
them (this being the end of government, to maintain every
one in their rights and liberties against wrongs and injuries)
but have done directly opposite to it, by enacting and com-
manding impieties, injuries, and robberies, to the denying of
God his due, and the subjects their godliness and peace; so
that instead of government, godliness, and peace, there is no-
thing but rapine, tumult and blood; so that now it cannot be
called a government, but a lustful rage, exercised with as
little right reason, and more cruelty than in beasts; and they
themselves can no more be called governors, but public
grassators, and public judgments, which all ought to set
themselves against, as they would do against pestilence,
sword, and famine raging among them ; for they are like those,
and bring those; and as they have exercised no good govern-
ment, nor administered justice, so on the other hand, they
have stopped the course of law and justice against blasphemers,
idolaters, atheists. sorcerers, murderers, incestuous and adul—
terous persons, and other nialefactors; and instead of reward—
ing the good, have made butcheries and murders upon the
Lord’s people, sold them as slaves, imprisoned, forfeited,
fined, banished, &c., and that upon no other account, but foi
maintaining Christ’s right of ruling over their consciences
against the usurpations of men, for fulfilling their vows, re-
pelling unjust violence (which innocent nature allows every
creature) of all which particulars we can give (we speak be-
fore God) innumerable and sure instances.
But that we may see if there be anything that stands in
our way, there are but three things that seem to have weight
that we know. First. Whether the deed and obligation of
our ancestors can bind us. Secondly. \Vhether the covenant
doth bind us either to this man or his posterity. And
T Izirdly. Whether there yet be any hope of them and their
posterity.
1. As to the first. Our ancestors their transactions and
obligations neither did, nor could bind us, they did not buy
their liberty and conquest with our thraldom and slavery;
nor could they, liberty and freedom being a benefit next to
life, if not in some regard above it, that they could not give
it away more than our lives, neither is it in the power of


APPENDIX.
713


parents to bind their posterity to anything. that is so much to
their prejudice, and against their natural liberty. Itis other-
wise indeed in things moral. Neither did they bind us to
anything but to a government, which they then esteemed
the best for the commonwealth and subjects; and when this
ceaseth, we are free to choose another, if we see it more con-
ducible for that end, and more free of these inconveniences.
2dly. The covenant doth not, for it only binds us to maintain
our king in the maintenance of the true established and cove-
nanted religion; and this we have not: neither can they re-
quire homage upon the account of the covenant, having re-
nounced and disclaimed that covenant: and we being no
otherwise bound, the covenant being the coronation com-
pact without the swearing and sealing of which our fathers,
or rather we ourselves refused to receive him for king, and
them for rulers; and if they were free to refuse him for
king upon the account of not subscribing of that covenant,
we are much more free to reject him upon his renouncing of
it, this being the only way of receiving the crown of Scot-
land; and reigning also, not being an inheritance that passes
from father to son without the consent of tenants, but an
(and the more men plead for this, the more we are concerned
to look to it) ofiice, which, all say, is given ad culpam, non
ad 'v-itam. And for the 3d, Neither is there any hope of
their return from these courses, having so often showed their
natures and enmities against God and all righteousness, and
having so oft declared and renewed their purposes and pro-
mises of persevering in those courses : and suppose they
should dissemble a repentance of those things, and profess
to return to better courses, being put to straits, and for their
own ends (for upon no other account can we reasonably ex—
pect it :) supposing also, that there might be pardon for that
which is done, which we cannot see can be without the V10-
lation of God’s law, and the laying on of a great guiltiness
upon the land, for the omitting of the execution of so deserved
and so necessarily requisite a justice, from which guiltiness
the land cannot be cleansed or made free, but by executing of
God’s righteous judgment upon them: but supposing that it
might, they cannot now be believed, after they have violated
all ties that human wisdom can devise to bind men. And
besides, who sees not somewhat of folly to be in this, to think
to bind a king that pretends to absoluteness ? the way being
thus cleared, and we being sure of God’s approbation and
men’s whose hearts are not utterly biassed, and conscience
altogether corrupted; and knowing assuredly, the upholding
of such, is to uphold men to bear down Christ’s kingdom and
to uphold Satan’s, and to deprive men of. right government
and good governors, to the ruining of religion, and undoing
of human society. And seeing also the innumerable sins and
snares that are in giving obedience to their acts upon the one
hand; and upon the other hand, seeing the endless miseries
that will follow if we shall acknowledge their authority, and
refuse obedience to their sinful commands: we then upon
those, andthe following grounds, do reject that king, and those
associate with him in the government (stated and declared
enemies to Jesus Christ) from being our king and rulers, be-
cause standing in the way of our right, free, and peaceable
serving of God, propagating his kingdom and reformation,
and overthrowing Satan’s kingdom according to our covenants,
declare them to be henceforth no lawful rulers, as they have
declared us to be no lawful subjects, upon a ground far less
warrantable, as men unbiassed will see: and that after this,
we neither own, nor shall yield any willing obedience to them,
but shall rather suffer the utmost of their cruelties and injur-
ies (until God shall plead our cause) being no more bound
to them, they having altered and destroyed the Lord’s estab-
lished religion, overturned the fundamental and established
laws of the kingdom, taken away altogether Christ’s church-
government, and changed the civil government of this land, i
which was by a king and free parliament, into tyranny, where ‘
none are associate to be partakers of the government but
only those who will be found by justice to be guilty of crim-
inals, and where all others are excluded, even those who by
the laws of the land, and by birth, have a right to, and a
share in that government, and that only because they are not ,
of the same guiltiness and mischievous purposes with them- i
selves, and where also all free elections of commissioners for 1
parliaments, and officers for government, are made void, they 3
making those the qualifications for admission to those places,
which by the word of God, and the laws of the land, was the
cause of their exclusion before. So that none can say that
we are now bound in allegiance unto them, unless they will

say, we are bound in allegiance to devils whose vicegerents
they are, having neither authority from God (because it is
by their sinfulness forfeited) nor yet judging nor ruling for
God.
\Ve then being made free by God and their own doings,
(he giving the law, and they giving the transgression of that
law, which is the cause) and being now loosed from all obli-
gations both divine and civil to them, knowing also, that no
society of men, having corruption in them (which is always
ready to beget disorder and to do injuries, unless restrained
and punished by laws and government) can be without laws
and government, and withal desiring to be governed in the
best way that is least liable to inconveniences, and least apt
to degenerate into tyranny: We do declare, that we shall set
up over ourselves, and over what God shall give us power
of, government and governors according to the word of God,
and especially that word, Exodus xviii. 21. “ Moreover
thou shalt provide out of all the people, able men, such as
fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness, and place such
over them; to be rulers of thousands, and rulers of hundreds,
rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens.” That we shall no more
commit the government of ourselves, and the making of laws
for us, to any one single person, or lineal successor, we not
being by God, as the Jews were, bound to one single fa-
mily; and this kind of government by a single person being
most liable to inconveniences, and aptest to degenerate into
tyranny, as sad and long experience hath taught us.
Moreover we declare, that those men whom we shall set
over us, shall be engaged to govern us principally by that
civil and judicial law (we think none will be so i norant as
to think, by the judicial law we mean that whic is cere-
monial or typical) given by God to his people of Israel, no
man, we think, doubting, but it must be the best so far as
it goes, being given by God; and we having no body of law
of our own, but some few imperfect acts of parliament, and
sometimes following the canon, and sometimes the feudal,
and sometimes the civil, which occasions great contentions
among the people, especially those who are naturally liti-
gious, to the exhausting and enhancing of the substance of
the kingdom to some few men, and squeezing of its inhabi-
tants, but especially that we shall be governed by that law
in matters of life and death, and all other things also, so far
as they reach, and are consistent with our Christian liberty
established in all Christendom (only violated by our tyrants,
and some others of late) excepting only that of divorce and
polygamy, the one being not a law, but a permission granted
upon the account of the hardness of their hearts, the other
being a sinful custom, contrary to the first institution of
marriage, crept into the church. We know that men of
malignant and perverse spirits, who have not a higher God
than a wicked king, which suits only with their lustful licen-
tiousness, and it may be others with them, that seemed to be of
better principles, will raise an ignorant clamour upon this, that
it is a fifth monarchy, and we fifth-monarchy-men, and will
labour to amuse the people with strange terms, and put odious
names on good things to make them hateful as their way is;
but if this be their fifth monarchy, we both are, and ought
to be such, and that according to God’s word.
Slat/11]]. It being the work of the ministers of the gospel
to preach, propagate, and defend the kingdom of God, and
to preserve the doctrine, worship, discipline, government,
liberties and privileges of the same from all corruptions and
eneroachments of rulers and all others; and seeing that the
ministers of the church of Scotland, at least the greater part
of them by far, not only were defective in preaching and
testifying against the acts of rulers, for overthrowing religion
and reformation, abjuring our covenant with God, establish-
ing a government in the church, which their king calls his own
government (and so" is not God’s) contrary to our covenant,
against enacting of that blasphemous so Calvin calls that
supremacy of Henry VIII. upon whic this prerogative is
formed, and from which it is derived, and is no less, if not
more injurious to Christ, and enslaving to his church) and
sacrilegious prerogative, given to a king over the church of
God, and against their other acts and encroachments upon
his church, and hindered others also who were willing, and
would have testified against them, and censured some that
did it (for which, together with other faults in their trust
' and administration, we may say God hath left them to do
worse things) but also have voted in that meeting (which
they are pleased to call ‘ an assembly of ministers,’ but how
unjustly let men judge) an acceptation of that liberty founded



~l x
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APPENDIX.
114





upon, and given by virtue of that blasphemous, arrogated
and usurped power, and has appeared before their courts to
accept of that liberty, and to be enacted and authorized their
ministers, and so have willingly (for this is an elicite act of
the will, and not an act of force and constraint) translated
the power of sending out, ordering and censuring (for as they
accepted the liberty from them, so they are answerable and
submit to their censures and restraints, at least all of them
who were yet tried with it, and others of them appeared,
and acknowledged before their courts, that they would not
have done these things that they were charged with, if they
had thought it would have offended them) ministers from the
court of Christ, and subjection to the ministry to the courts
of men, and subjection unto the magistrate (which had been
1mpious and injurious to Christ, though they had been right-
eous and lawful rulers), and by their changing of courts (ac-
cording to common law) have changed their masters, and of
the ministers of Christ are become the ministers of men, and
bound to answer to them, as they will; and as, by the ac-
ceptance of this liberty in such a manner, they have trans-
lated the power, so they had given up and quit utterly the
government, and a succession of a presbyterian ministry, for
as those were not granted them of their masters, so they re-
ceived their ministry without them, and by this (as the eccle-
siastic government is swallowed up in the civil) if the rest
had followed them, the ministry should have been extinct
with themselves, and the whole work of reformation had
been buried in oblivion, and not so much as the remembrance
thereof kept up. Those, together with the other of their
commissions, in preaching the lawfulness of paying that tri-
bute, declared to be imposed for the bearing down of the
true worship of God (which they falsely termed seditious
conventicles, rendezvouses of rebellion) and their advising
those poor prisoners to subscribe that bond, and consequently
could not but so advise others, if put to it for the hazard
men were in will not make a real change of t e morality of
the action) and besides, the rest may be put to it on the same
hazard; and if the one should advise (which consequently
they must do) and the other should subscribe, this would
altogether close that door, which the Lord hath made use of
in all the churches of Europe, for casting oft" the yoke of the
whore, and restoring the truth and purity of religion and
reformation, and freedom of the churches, and should also
have stopped all regress of men, when once brought under
tyranny, to recover their liberty again. Those ministers then
not being followers of Christ, who, before Pontius Pilate,
gave a good confession, which was that he was a king (and
no king, if he have no power to order his house and subjects)
and they not following him nor his ministers, they not as-
serting and maintaining this his kingly power, against all
encroachments and usurpers of it; and besides, we being
commanded, if any brother walk disorderly, from such to
Withdraw. And although, in the capacity that we are now
in, we neither have, nor assume to ourselves authority to give
our definitive and authoritative sentence of deposition against
those ministers, yet we declare (which is proper for us to do)
that we neither can nor will hear preaching, nor receive
sacraments from any of those ministers that have accepted,
and voted for that liberty, nor from any who have encouraged


and strengthened their hands by hearing and pleading for '
them, all those who have traflicked for an union with them,
without their renouncing and repenting' of those things, all
that do not faithfully testify against them, and after do not
deport themselves suitably to their testimonies, all who join
not in public with their brethren, who are testifying against
them. We declare, that we shall not own, &c., at least till
they stand in judgment before those ministers, and be judged
by them who have followed the Lord, kept themselves free
of those defections, or at least have repented; and as our
hearts have cleaved to those ministers,'while they were on
the Lord’s side, and subjected to them, so we shall still cleave
to those that abide following him, and shall be subject to them
in the Lord.
Seventhly. Then, we do declare and acknowledge, that a
gospel ministry is a standing ordinance of God, appointed by
Christ to continue in the church until the end of the world;
and that none of us shall take upon him the preaching of the
word, or administering of the sacraments, unless cal'ed and
ordained thereto by the ministers of the gospel. And, as we
declare, that we are for a standing gospel ministry, rightly
chosen and rightly ordained, so we declare that we shall go
about this work in time to come with more fasting and prayer,
and more careful inspection into the conversation and holiness

of those men that shall be chosen and ordained, the want of
which formerly has been a great sin, both in ministers and
people, which hath not been the least cause of this defection.
This will meet with the same measure as the former. The
former was a fifth monarchy, so this will be a separation.
There is both malice and ignorance in this calumny Malice
in striving to make us odious; for there is nothing that will
make us more odious to the world, than to tell them we think
ourselves more holy than all, and will have no communion
with others. But we abhor such thoughts, and whatever we
know of our sincerity, yet we know nothing of our perfection,
and so see nothing whereupon we may compare, much less
exceed others, but the contrary; and if any were to be shut
out upon that account, we judge ourselves would be the first.
There is ignorance in it, if not a deep deceit; for separation,
as the scriptures and divines take it in an evil sense, cannot
be attributed to us; for if there be a separation, it must be
where the change is, and that is not in us; we are not separ-
ating from the communion of the church, and setting up new
ordinances, and a new ministry, but cleaving to the same
ministers, and following the same ordinances, when others
have slidden back to new ways, and have a new authority
superadded, which is like the new piece in the old garment.
Eigkthly. We bind and oblige ourselves to defend ourselves
and one another in our worshipping of God, and in our natu-
ral, civil, and divine rights and liberties, till we shall over-
come, or send them down under debate to the posterity, that
they may begin where we end; and if we shall be pursued or
troubled any farther in our worshipping rights and liberties,
that we shall look on it as a declaring war, and take all the
advantages that one enemy doth of another, and seek to cause
to perish, all that shall, in an hostile manner, assault us, and
to maintain, relieve, and right ourselves of those that have
wronged us, but not to trouble or injure any, but those that
have injured us, those being most lawful for us, being many
that are wronged upon such an account, and by such persons
who have nothing now over us, but power and usurped
authority, which we shall neither answer nor acknowledge,
if we can do otherwise, hoping that God shall break off that
part of the yoke, and free us of that power and tyranny, that
we have cast off upon his account, and will give us judges
as we had at the beginning, and counsellors as we had at the
first.
——_-_
No. XII.
Sanguhar Declaration. June 22, 1680.
It is not amongst the smallest of the Lord's mercies to
this poor land, that there have been always some who have
given their testimony against every course of defection, (that
many are guilty of) which is a token for good, that he doth
not as yet intend to cast us off altogether, but that he will
leave a remnant in whom he will be glorious, if they, through
his grace, keep themselves clean still, and walk in his way
and method, as it has been walked in and owned by him in
our predecessors of truly worthy memory, in their carrying on
of our noble work of reformation in the several steps thereof,
from popery, prelacy, and likewise Erastian supremacy, so
much usurped by him, who (it is true so far as we know) is
descended from the race of our kings, yet he hath so far de-
borded from what he ought to have been, by his perjury and
usurpation in church matters, and tyranny in matters civil,
as is known by the whole land, that we have just reason to
account it one of the Lord’s great controversies against us,
that we have not disowned him and the men of his practices,
(whether inferior magistrates or any other) as enemies to
our Lord and his crown, and the true protestant and presby-
terian interest in their lands, our Lord’s espoused bride and
church. Therefore, although we be for government and
governors, such as the word of God and our covenant allows,
yet we for ourselves, and all that will adhere to us, as the
representative of the true presbyterian kirk, and covenanted
nation of Scotland, considering the great hazard of lying
under such a sin any longer, do by thir presents disown
Charles Stuart, that has been reigning (or rather tyrannizing,
as we may say) on the throne of Britain these years bygone,
as having any right, title to, or interest in the said crown of
Scotland for government, as forfeited several years since, by
his perjury and breach of covenant both to God and his kirk,
and usurpation of his crown and royal prerogatives therein,




APPENDIX.
715



and many other breaches in matters ecclesiastic, and by his
tyranny and breach of the very leges regnandi in matters
civil. For which reason, we declare, that several years since
he should have been denuded of being king, ruler or magis-
trate, or of having any power to act, or to be obeyed as such.
As also, we being under the standard of our Lord Jesus
Christ, Captain of salvation, to declare a war with such a
tyrant and usurper, and all the men of his practices, as ene-
mies to our Lord Jesus Christ, and his cause and covenants;
and against all such as have strengthened him, sided with,
or any wise acknowledged him in his tyranny, civil or eccle-
siastic, yea, against all such as shall strengthen, side with,
or any wise acknowledge any other in the like usurpation
and tyranny, far more against such as would betray or deliver
up our free reformed mother-kirk unto the bondage of anti-
christ the pope of Rome. And by this we homologate that
testimony given at Rutherglen, the 29th of May, 1679, and
all the faithful testimonies of these who have gone before, as
also of these who have suffered of late, And we do disclaim
that declaration published at Hamilton, June, 1679, chiefly
because it takes in the king’s interest, which we are several
years since loosed from, because of the foresaid reasons, and
others, which may after this if the Lord will) be published.
As also, we disown, and by t is resent the reception of the
duke of York, that professed papist, as repugnant to our
principles and vows to the most high God, and as that which
is the great, though not alone, just reproach of our kirk and
nation. \Ve also by this protest against his succeeding to
the crown; and whatever has been done, or any are essaying
to do in this land (given to the Lord) in prejudice to our
work of reformation. And to conclude, we hope after this
none will blame us for, or ofl'end at our rewarding these that
are against us, as they have done to us, as the Lord gives
opportunity. This is not to exclude any that have declined,
if they be willing to give satisfaction according to the degree
of their offence. Given at Sanquhar, June ‘22d, 1680.

No. XIII.
Declaration published at Lanerlc, January 12th, 1682.
Although we ought to take in good part, whatever God in
his infinite wisdom hath, for the punishment of our sins,
carved out unto us, and Eye and acknowledge him alone
in it ;—and though we always ought to acknowledge 'go-
vernment and governors as ordained by him, in so far as
they rule- and govern according to the rules set down by him
in his word, and constitutive laws of the nation, and ought to
cast the mantle of love on the lesser errors of governors, and
give the best countenance to their administration that the
nature of their actions will bear ;—yet when all these laws,
both of God and the kingdom, conditional and constitutive
of the government, are cassed and annulled, by pretended
laws, and the highest of usurpation, and an inexplicable
prerogative in matters ecclesiastic, and arbitrary govern-
ment in matters civil, is arrogate ;-—when a banner of
impiety, profaneness, and atheism is avowedly displayed
against the heavens; a door open of all sorts and sizes, and
the remedy thereof still denied by him who should be as a
sun and shield to the people, when the parliaments, who
ought to be the grand trustees of the kingdom, to whom it
belongs in such a case to secure the civil and spiritual inter-
ests, are so prelimited by law, as that no true son of the
state or church hath liberty to sit and vote there, so that the
parliaments, and all places of public trust, and ofiices of the
kingdom from the highest to the lowest, are made up of none
but those who are corrupted, overawed, overruled, and bribed:
What shall the people do in such an extremity? Should
they give their reason as men, their consciences as christians,
and resign their liberties, fortunes, religion, and their all to
the inexorable obstinacy, incurable wilfulness, and malice
of these, who in spite of God and man (and notwithstanding
of their many oaths and vows both to God and his people)
are resolved to make their own will the absolute and sove-
reign rule of their actions, and their strained indulgences, and
the measure of the subjects hope and happiness? Shall the
end of government he lost, through weakness, wickedness,
and tyranny of governors ? Must the people by an implicit
submission and deplorable stupidity, destroy themselves, and
betray their posterity, and become objects of reproach to the
present generation, and pity and contempt to the future?
Have they not in such an extremity, good ground to make

use of that natural and radical power they have, to shake off
that yoke, which neither we nor our forefathers were able to
bear; which accordingly the Lord honoured us (in a general
and unprelimited meeting of the estates and shines of Scot-
land) to do; a convention of unprelimited members, a con-
vention (f men who had only the glory of God and the good
of the commonwealth before their e3/es,—the like whereof the
present reigning tyrant could never since his home-coming
pretend to? At which convention, he was most legally,
and 'by general consent cast off, by the Declaration after-
wards published at Sanquhar by especial warrant from the
said convention. But that we may not seem to have done
that, or yet to do the like, upon no grounds, or yet upon
few and small grounds, we shall hint at some of the many
thousands of the misdemeanours of the now cast off tyrant
in his overturning of our church and state.
And First, at his very entry, as if he had attained to
lVero’s desire, at one blow, in his first parliament, he cut off
the neck of that noble constitution of church and state, which
our noble and worthy ancestors had made ; and not thinking
it enough treacherously and falsely to perjure himself, he
made such constitutions and laws (if it be not an abuse of
language to call them so) as that none but fools of his own
feather, and such as would run with himself to the same ex-
cess of riot, should have access to the very nearest place or
ofiice in the kingdom. And though that in itself is enough,
yet not the thousand part of what he hath done.
2. Did he not take to himself a licentious privilege, the
exalting of himself unto a sphere exceeding all measures
divine and human, tyrannically obtruding his will for a law,
both in matters civil and ecclesiastic, making us a laughing-
stock to the neighbouring nations, who imagined that what
he was doing (however tyrannous in itself) to be consonant
to our law, blaming the badness of the law instead of the
badness of the governors, whereas nothing could be less con-
sonant to the tenor and end of our, and all other laws, divine
and human. For we have reason to praise the Lord, who em-
inently assisted our ancestors in framing of our laws, so that
we may (upon good ground) sa , that there is no nation in
civilibus hath better, and in ecc esiasticis so good laws as we;
having (by God’s providence) attained unto a more excellent
and strict reformation than any nation. The observing of
which laws, was the very constitutive and absolute condition
whereupon he was admitted to the Royal office, and without
which he was not to have the exercise of his power, and to
which he was most solemnly and deeply sworn oftener than
once, with his hands lifted up to the most High God; He
himself declaring the subjects tye no longer to remain or con-
tinue, than the ends and constitutions of these covenants were
pursued and preserved by him. All which are (contrary to
his engagement foresaid) by his pretended (and as aforesaid
constitute) parliaments cassed and annulled, and the laws no
more made the rule, but his own will in his letters : So that
we are made the reproach of the nations, who say we have
only the law of letters, instead of the letter of the law.
3. Hath it not been his constant method to adjourn and
dissolve parliaments at his pleasure, when they (though his
own creatures) were so sensible of his misdemeanours, that
they began to question, and when questioned by them, ye
may easily conjecture what they were.
4. Hath he not seated himself as supreme head over all
persons, in all causes civil and ecclesiastic? and by virtue of
that arrogantly arrogated power, fabricate a chimeric govern-
ment, or rather pageantry in the church, with such ludibrious
eminences, pompous power and pride, through the vanity of
men’s depraved imaginations, the grievous and mysterious
abuse, from whence have issued all the calamities, all the
languishing sorrows, and confounding shames and reproaches,
which in this day of blackness and darkness, have invaded,
involved, polluted and pestered the church and kingdom.
And thus hath he approven himself to be the Defender of
the Faith! under which the godly party, true sons of the
church and nation, have been groaning these twenty years
bygone, and in great numbers murthered and slain in the
fields, led as lambs to the slaughter upon scaffolds, imprisoned
and kept in irons, and with exquisite tortures tormented,
exiled, banished, and sold as slaves amongst savages: all
which they endured most patiently a long time, or ever they
offered to appear in public in arms against him. And all this
they have met with as a reward (just upon the Lord’s part,
though unjust and nngrate as to his part) for their too great
and inordinate love. wherewith they prevented him in the



716
APPENDIX.




1
day of his distress; being the first and only beginning of his '
unhappy restoration.
5. Time will fail us to narrate, what taxings, cessings, and
every way impoverishing of the subjects, and grinding of the
faces of the poor, dilapidating the pen iicles, rights, and
revenues of the crown, for no other end, but to employ them
for keeping up a brothel, rather than a court, since there is
no court in the world hath attained unto such a height of
debauchery and depravedness, as that court by his example
hath done. For
Regis ad ewe-mplum totus componit-zzr orbis.
6. And lastly, as if it had not been enough to exercise such
a tyrannical and arbitrary power himself, he, by a late par-
liament such as the former, intends that his cruelty and
tyranny should not die with himself, but that he shall in his
time install such an one (if not worse) as himself, contrary to
all law, reason and religion, and in that parliament to un—
hinge very protestantism itself, by framing a test, such as no
protestant (how corrupt soever) can take, and so ridiculous
that it is made the laughingstock even of enemies them-
selves.
Is it then any wonder, considering such dealings and many
thousands more, that true Scotsmen (though we have been
always and even to extremity sometimes loyal to our kings)
should after twenty years tyranny break out at last, as we
have done, and put in practice that power, which God and
nature hath given us, and we have reserved to ourselves,
as our engagements with our princes having been always
conditional, as other kingdoms are implicitly, but ours ex-
plicitly P
Let none therefore object against the legality of what we
have done, or are doing : for we offer as (how inconsiderable
we are said to be) to prove ourselves to have done nothing
against our ancient laws civil or ecclesiastic, against any
lawyers or divines whatsoever, our ancient laws being judges;
and we having safety to pass and repass (if the public faith
after so many breaches can be trusted) for that effect. So
then let no foreign kingdoms or churches through misinfor-
mation or false copies as they are many) of what we act or
do, because we have no access to the press as they; we say
let them not take up a wrong opinion of us or our proceed-
ings: for we are only endeavouring to extricate ourselves
from under a tyrannous yoke, and to reduce our church and
state to what they were in the years 1648 and 1649.
We therefore, have conveened, in our name and authority,
ratify and approve what hath been done by the Rutherglen
and Sanquhar declarations. And do by these presents re-
scind, annul, and make void, whatsoever hath been done by
Charles Stuart or his accomplices in prejudice to our an-
cient laws and liberties, in all the several pretended and
prelimited parliaments and conventions, since the year 1660.
And articularly, the late parliament holden at Edinburgh
the 25th July 1681, by a commissioner professedly popish,
and for villany exiled his native land, with all the acts and
laws there statute and enacted: as that abominable, ridicu-
lous, unparalleled, and soul perjuring test and the rest.
We therefore command and charge you, to pass to the
Mercat cross of Lanerk, and in our name and authority,
publish this our act and declaration, as ye will be answerable.
Given at the 15th December, 1681.
Let hing Jesus reign, and all his enemies be scattered.

N o. XI V.
Acts of Parliament.
The first Confession of Faith of the Church of Scotland
was professed, ratified and approved in Parliament, on the
17th August, 1560~ when Popery was abolished, and acts
passed against idolatry and the mass.
On the 19th April, 1567, Queen Mary, previous to her im-
prisonment, passed an act, securing to her subjects of the Re-
formed faith, immunity from civil injury. Thefull recognition,
however, of the Reformed Church did not take place till the
meeting of the first parliament in December, by the Regent
Moray. The principal points of these acts are added.
Act 1567, ch. 6. Anent the trew and haly Kirk, and of
theme that are declarit not to be of the samin.
I tem, Forsamekle as the Ministeris of the blissit Euangell

of Jesus Christ, quhome God of his mercy hes now rasit vp
amangis vs, or heirefter sall rais, aggreing with thame that
now liues, in doctrine and administratioun of the sacramentis,
and the pepill of this realme that professis Christ as he now
is offerit in his Euangell, and do communicat with the holy
sacramentis, (as in the i‘eformit Kirkis of this Realme ar pub~
’ licklie administrat), according to the Confession of the Faith,
Our Souerane Lord, with auise of my Lord Regent and three
Estatis of this present Parliament, hes declarit and declaris
. the foirsaid kirk to be the only trew and holy Kirk of Jesus
Christ within this realme, and decernis and declareis that all
and sundrie quha outher gainsayis the Word of the Euangell
ressauit and appreuit as the heides of the Confessioun professit
in Parliament of hefoir, in the yeir of God 1560 yeirs, as al-
swa specifiet in the Actis of this Parliament mair particularlie
dois expres, and now ratifyit and appreuit in this present
Parliament, or that refusis the participation of the holy sac-
raments as they ar now ministrat, to be na membris of the
said Kirk within this realme now presently professit, swa
lang as they keipe thame selfis as deuydit fra the societie of
Christis body.
Act 1567, ch. 7. Anent the Admissioun ofthame that sal be
presentit to Benefices hauand cure of Jllinistrie.
Item, It is statute and ordained by our Soveraine Lord,
with advice of his dearest Regent, and three Estatis of this
present Parliament, that the examination and admission of
ministers, within this Realme, he only in the power of the
Kirk, now openlie, and publicly professed within the samin.
The presentation of laic Patronages alwais reserved to the
Just and auncient Patrones. And that the Patron present
ane qualified persoun, within sex Moneths, (after it may cum
to his knawledge, of the decease of him quha bruiked the
Benefice of before) to the Superintendent of thay partis,
quhar the Benefice lyis, or uthers havand commission of the
Kirk to that effect ; utherwaies the Kirk to have power to dis~
pone the samin to ane qualifyed person for that time.
Providing that in caice the Patron present ane person qua-
lified to his understanding, and failzeing of ane, ane uther
within the said six Moneths, and the said Superintendent or
Commissioner of the Kirk refusis to receive and admit the
person presented be the Patron, as said is: It sall be lessum
[lawful] to the Patron to appeale to the Superintendent and
Ministers of that province quhar the Benefice lyis, and desire
the person presented to be admitted. quhilk gif they refuse,
to appeal to the General Assemblie of the haill realme, be
quhom the cause he and decyded, sall take end, as they de-
cerne and declair.
Act 1567, ch. 12. Anent the iurisdictioun of the Kirk.
Item, Anent the Artickle proponit and geuin in by the Kirk
to my Lord Regent and the thre Estatis of this present Par-
liament, anent the iurisdictioun iustlie apperteining to the
trew Kirk and immaculat spous of Jesus Christ, to be declarit
and expressit as the artickle at mair length is consuit : The
Kingis Grace, with auise of my Lord Regent and thre Estatis
of this present Parliament, hes declarit and grantit iurisdic~
tioun to the said Kirk : quhilk consistis and standis, in preich—
ing of the trew word of Jesus Christ, correction of maneris.
and administratioun of haly sacramentis. And declaris, that
thair is na vther face of Kirk nor vther face of Religioun,
than is presentlie be the faour of God establischeit, within
this realme. And that thair be na vther iurisdictioun eccle-
siasticall acknawledgit within this realme, vther than that
quhilk is and sall be within the same Kirk, or that quhilk
flowis thairfra concerning the premisses; and forther, our
Souerane Lord, with auis of my Lord Regent and thre Es-
tatis foirsaidis, hes geuein and geuis power and commission
to Schir James Balfour of Pittindreich, Knycht, Priour of
Pittinweem; Mark, Commendatour of N ewbottill; J ohne
Priour of Coldinghame, Lord Preuie Seal; Maister James
Makgill of Rankillour Nether, Clerk of Register; William
Maitland, younger of Lethington, Secretar to our Souerane
Lord; Schir J ohn Bellenden of Auchinoull, Knycht, Justice
Clerk; John Erskine of Dune; Maister J ohne Spottiswod,
Superintendent of Lowthiane ; J ohne Knox ; Maister J ohne
Crai ; and Maister Dauid Lindesay, Ministeris of the worde
of 0d, To seirche furth mair speciallie, and to considder,
quhat vther speciall pointis or clausis sould appertene to the
iurisdictioun, priuilege, and authoritie of the said Kirk, and
to declair thair mindis thairanentis to my Lord Regent and
thre Estatis of this Realme at the nixt Parliament, Swa that


APPENDIX.
717



-_,......~s.>,!_.--. . a
they may tak ordour thairintill, and authories the samin be
act of Parliament, as sall be fund aggreable to the worde
of God.
The following act was passed concerning the few lay
patronages which existed at that time, and which king
James VI. was using every means to increase.
Act 1581, ch. 102. That ministeris sall be presentit be the
Kingis fvlajestie, and the lawit Patronis, to all benefices of
cair under Prelacg/is.
Item, It is statute and ordanit be our Souerane Lord,
with aduise of his thre Estatis of this present Parliament,
That all benefices of cuir under prelacyis, sall be presentit be
our Souerane Lord, and the lawit personis, in the fauoure of
abill and qualifeit ministers, apt and willing to enter in that
functioun—and to discharge the dewtie thairof. And in cace
any sall happin to be gevin and disponit wtherwise herefter,
decernis and declaris the giftis and dispositiounis to be null
and of none availl, force, nor effect.
Next come to be noticed the acts passed in the parliament
of 1584, commonly styled the Black Acts, by which all that
had been formerly done by the Church in reference to pre-
lacy, was declared treason. They were passed on the 22d of
May, and proclaimed on the 25th, and submitted to by the
nobility, barons and gentry, being opposed by the ministers
alone.
Act 1584, ch. 129. An act confirming the Kingis lvlajestic’s
Rog/all power over all Stalis and Subjectis within this
li’ealmc.
Forsamekle as syndrie personis, being laitlie callit befoir
the Kingis Majestie and his secreit Counsell, to answer upon
certaine pointis to have bene inquirit of thame, concerning
sum treasounable, seditious, and contumelious speches, utterit
by thame in Pulpit, Scolis, and vtherwayis, to the disdane
and reprooche of his Hienes, his Progenitouris, and present
Counsell, contemtuouslie declinit the jugement of his Hienes
and his said Counsell in that behalf, to the evill exemple of
uthers to do the like, gif tymous remeid be not providit:
T hairfoir our Souerane Lord, and his thrie Estatis, assembled
in this present Parliament, ratifeis and apprevis, and perpet-
uallie confirmis the royall power and authoritie over all statis,
alsweil Spirituall as T emporall, within this Realme, in the
persoun of the Kingis Majestie, our Souerane Lord, his airis
and successouris : And als statutis and ordanis, that his
Hienes, his said airis and successouris, be thameselfiis and
thair counsellis, ar, and in tyme to cum sall be, juges com-
petent to all personis his Hienes subjectis, of quhatsumever
estate, degrie, functioun, or conditioun that ever they be of,
Spirituall or Temporall, in all matteris quhairin they, or ony
of thame, sall be apprehendit, summound, or chargeit to an-
swer to sik thingis as sall be inquirit of thame, be our Sove-
rane Lord and his Counsell. And that nane of thame,
quhilkis sall happin to be apprehendit, callit, or summound
to the effect foirsaid, presume to tak upoun hand to decline
the jugement of his Hienes, his airis or successouris, or thair
Counsell, in the premisseshunder the pane of treasoun.
Act l584, ch. 131. Act discharging all jurisdictionis and
judgmentis, not approvit be Parliament, and all Assem-
bleis and Concentionis. without our Souerane Lordis
speciall licence and commandment.
Our Souerane Lord and his thrie Estatis, assemblit in this
present Parliament, dischargeis all jugementis and jurisdic-
tionis, Spirituall or Temporall, accustomat to be usit and
execute, upoun ony of his Hienes subjectis, quhilkis are not
approvit be his Hienes, and his saids thrie Estatis, convenit
in Parliament; and decernis the same to ceis in tyme cum-
ming, quhil the ordour thereof be first sene and considerit in
Parliament, and be allowit and ratifeit be thame. Certifeing
thame that sall proceid in using and exerceing of the saids
jugementis and jurisdictionis, or in obeying of the same, not
being allowit and ratifieit, as said is, They sall be repute,
halden, callit, presewit, and punissit as usurparis, and con-
temnaris of his Hienes auctoritie, in example of utheris.
And als it is statute and ordainit, be our said Souerane
Lord, and his thrie Estatis, that none of his Hienes sub-
jectis, of quhatsumever qualitie, estate, or functioun they
be of, Spirituall or Temporall, presume or tak upoun hand,
I to convocat, convene, or assemble thamselfiis togidder, for
holding of councellis, conventionis, or assembleis, to treat,
consult, and determinat in ony matter of Estate, Civill or
, Ecclesiasticall (except in the ordinare jugementis), without
' his Majesties speciall commandenient, expres licence, had
and obtenit to that effect, under the panis ordinit in the
lawis and actis of Parliament, agains sic as unlawfullie cou-
vocat the Kingis lieges.
Act 1584, ch. 132.

The causes and lllaner of Depricaz‘ion
of Zhlinistcrs.
Our Souerane Lord, and his thrie Estatis, assemblit in this
present Parliament, willing that the word of God sall be
preachit, and Sacramentis administrat in puritie and synceri-
tie, and that the rentis, quhairon the Ministeris aucht to be
sustenit, sall not be possest be unworthie personis neglecting
to do thair dewties, for whilkis they accept thair benefices,
being utherwayis polluted with the fraill and enorme crymis
and vices after specefeit. It is, thairfoir, statute and ordainit
be his Hienes, with auice of the saides thrie Estatis, that all
Personis, Ministeris, or Reiddaris, or utheris providit to bene-
fices, sen his Hienes Coronatioun not having vote in his
Hienes Parliament), suspectit culpa le of heresie, papistrie,
fals and erroneous doctrine, common blasphemie, fornication,
commoun drunkennes, non-residence, pluralitie of benefices
having cure, quhairunto they are providit sen the said Coro-
natioun, Symonie, and dilapidatioun of the rentis of benefices,
contrare the lait Act of Parliament, being lawfullie and or-
dourlie callit, tryit, and adjudgit culpable, in the vices and
causes abouewritten, or onie of thame, be the ordinare Bishop
of the diocie, or utheris the Kingis Majesties Commissionaris
to be constitute in Ecclesiasticall causes, sall be deprivit
alsweil fra thair functioun in the Ministerie, as fra thair
benefices, quhilkis sall be thairby declarit to be vacand; to be
presentit and conferrit of new, as gif the personis possessouris
thairof were naturallie dead : And that it sall be esteemit and
jugeit not—residence, quhair the persoun being in the function
of the ministerie, providit to ane benefice, sen the Kingis Ma-
jesties Coronatioun, makis not residence at his mans, gif he
ony hes; and failzeing thereof, at sum uther dwelling-place
within the parochin ; but remainis absent thairfra, and from
his Kirk, and using of his ofiice, be the space of four Sondayis
in the haill zeir, without lawfull cans and impediment, allowit
be his ordinarc. And quhair ony persoun is admittit to ma
benefices, havand cure, sen our Soverane Lordis Coronatioun,
the acceptioun of the last sall be sufficient cause of depriva-
tioun from the remanent, swa that he be providit to twa or
ma benefices havand cure, sen the tyme of the said Corona-
tioun. And nevertheles, this present Act sall not extend
to ony persoun providit to his benefice befoir the said Coro-
natioun, nather sall the bruking of the said office, quhairunto
he was providit of befoir, induce pluralitie of benefices in this
cace; bot he sall allanerlie tyne his richt of the benefice
quhairunto he was providit sen the said Coronatioun allaner-
lie: And unioun of kirkis to ane benefice not to be jugcit
pluralitie, quhill farder ordour be establissit and providit in
that behalf : Likeas alswa, the personis being in the functioun
of the ministrie, that sall happin to be lawfullie and ordour-
lie convict befoir our Soverane Lordis J ustice-Generall, or
utheris thair J ugeis competent of criminal causis, sick as
treasoun, slachter, mutilatioun, adulterie, incest, thift, [com-
moun oppressioun, usurie aganes the lawis of this Realme,]
perjurie, or falset: They being lykewayis lawfullie and or-
dourlie deprivit fra thair functioun in the ministerie, be thair
ordinair, or the Kingis Commissionaris in Ecclesiasticall
causes. The benefices possest be the saidis personis to vaik.
be reasoun of the said convictioun and deprivatioun. And
this to have effect and execution onlie for crimis, vicis, faultis.
and offenceis, that sall happin to be cornmittit efter the (lait
heirof.

The importance of the following act which is justly desig-
nated “ The Great Charter of the Church,’3 calls for par-
ticular attention.
Act 1592, ch. 116. Act for cil/dishing Qfthe Actis contrair
the trew Religion. [Ratification of the libertie ofthe trew
Kiri.- : Of General and Synodall Assemblies : ()f Presby-
teries of Discipline. All laws of Iclolatrie ar abrogale :
Of Presentation to Benefices.]
Our Soverane Lord and Estaittis of this present Parliament,
following the lovable and gude example of thair predecessours,





718
APPENDIX.



Hes ratifiet and apprevit, and be the tenour of this present
Act ratifies and apprevis, all liberties, privileges, immunities,
and freedomes, quatsumever, gevin and grantit be his Hienes,
his Regentis in his name, or ony of his predecessouris, to the
trew and haly Kirk, presentlie establishit within this realme :
and declarit in the first Act of his Hienes Parliament, the
twentie day of October, the zier of God ane thousand, five
hundreth, three-scoir ninetene zieres; and all and whatsum-
evir Actis of Parliament, and statutes maid of befoir, be his
Hienes and his Regentis, anent the libertie and freedome of
the said Kirk: and specialie the first Act of the Parliament,
halden at Edinburgh, the twentie-foure day of October, the
zier of God ane thousand, five hundreth, and foir—scoir ane
zieres, with the haill particulare Actis thairin mentionat,
quhilk sall be als sufficient as gif the samyn wer herin ex-
prest. And all uther Actis of Parliament maid sensyne, in
favouris of the trew Kirk; and siklyke, ratifies and apprevis
the Generall Assemblies appointed be the said Kirk: And
declaris, that it sall be lauchfull to the Kirk and Ministrie
everilk zeir at the leist. and ofter pro re note, as occasion
and necessitie sall require, to hald and keip Generall Assem-
blies: Providing that the Kingis Majestie or his Commis-
sioner with thame. to be appoyntit be his Hienes, be pre-
sent at ilk Generall Assemblie. befoir the dissolving thairof
nominat and appoint tyme and place quhen and quhair the
nixt Generall Assemblie sall be haldin : and in caise nather
his Majestie nor his said Commissioner beis present for the
tyme in that toun, quhair the Generall Assemblie beis halden,
Then. and in that caise, it sall be lessum to the said Generall
Assemblie, be themselfiis, to nominat and appoynt tyme and
place quhair the nixt Generall Assemblie of the Kirk sall be
keipit and haldin, as they haif bene in use to do thir tymes
bypast. And als ratifies and apprevis the Sinodall and Pro-
vinciall Assemblies, to be halden be the said Kirk and Min-
istrie, twyis ilk zier, as they haif bene, and are presentlie in
use to do, within every Province of this realme; And ratifeis
and apprevis the Presbiteries. and particulare Sessionis ap-
poyntit be the said Kirk, with the haill jurisdictioun and
discipline of the same Kirk, aggreit upon be his Majestic, in
conference, had be his Hienes with certane of the Ministrie
convenit to that effect: of the quhilkis Articles the tenour
followis. MATERIS to be entreated in Provincial Assem-
blies : Thir Assemblies ar constitute for wechtie materis,
necessar to be entreatit be mutuall consent, and assistance of
brethrene, within the Province as neid reqvyris. This As-
semblie hes power to handle, ordour, and redresse, all things
oniittit or done amisse in the particulare Assemblies. It hes
power to depose the office-beareris of that province, for gude
and just causes, deserving deprivatioun: And generallie, thir
Assemblies hes the haill power of the particulare Elder-
schippis, quhairof they are collectit. MATERIS to be en-
treated in the Presbyteries. The power of the Presbyteries
is to give diligent lauboris in the boundis committed to their
chairge : That the Kirkis be kepit in gude ordour: To en-
quire diligentlie of naughtie and ungodlie personis: And to

travell to bring them in the way agane be admonitioun, or '
threatning of Goddis jugementis, or be correctioun. It ap—
pertenis to the Elderschip, to tak heid that the \Vord of God
be puirlie preachit withinthair boundis, the Sacramentis richt—
lie ministrat, the Discipline enterteynit, And Ecclesiasticall
guidis uncorruptlie distributit. It belangis to this kynd of
Assemblies, to caus the ordinances maid be the Assembleis,
Provinciallis, Nationallis, and Generallis, to be kepit and
put in execution, to mak constitutionis, quhilkis concernis
'ra a'gs'vroy in the Kirk, for decent ordour, in the particulare
kirk quhair they governe ; provyding that thay alter na rew-
lis maid be the Provinciall or Generall Assemblies; And
that they make the Provinciall Assemblies foirsaidis, privie
of the rewlis that they sall mak, and to abolishe constitu-
tionis tending to the hurte of the same. It has power to
excommunicat the obstinat, formale proces being led, and
dew intervall of tymes observit. ANENT particulare kirkis,
Gif they be lauchfully rewlit be sufficient ministeris and
sessioun, Thay haif power and jurisdictioun in their awin
congregration, in materis Ecclesiastical], And decernis and
declaris the said Assembleis, Presbiteries, and Sessiounes.
J urisdictioun and Discipline thairof foirsaid, to be in all
tymes cuming maist just, gude, and godlie in theselfi", N ot-
withstanding of quhatsumevir Statutis, Actis, Cannon, Civile,
or municipall Lawes, maid in the contrair: To the quhilkis
and every ane of thame, thir presentis sall mak expres dero-
gatioun. And becaus thair ar divers Actis of Parliament,

maid in favour of the Papistical Kirk, tending to the pre-
judice of the libertie of the trew Kirk of God, presentlie
professit within this realme, jurisdictioun, and discipline
thairof, Quhilk stands zit in the buikis of the Actis of Par-
liament, not abrogat nor annullit: Thairfoir his Hienes and
Estaittis foirsaidis hes abrogat, cassit, and annullit, and be
the tennor heirof, abrogatis, cassis, and annullis, all Actis of
Parliament maid be ony of his Hienes predecessoris, for man-
tenance of superstitioun and idolatrie, with all and quhatsum-
evir Acts, Lawes, and Statutes, maid at ony tyme, befoir the
day and dait heirof, aganis the libertie of the trew Kirk,
jurisdictioun, and discipline thairof, as the samyn is usit and
exerceisit within this realme. And in speciall, that pairt of
the sevint Act of Parliament halden at Strevz'linq, the fourt
day of A’ovember, ane thousand four hundredth, fourty-three
zeiris, commanding obedience to be gevin to Eugz'n, the Pape
for the tyme : the 109 Act made he King James the thrid,
in his Parliament halden at Edinburgh, the twenty-fourth
day of Februar, the zeir of God ane thousand, four hun-
dreth, four scor thrie zeirs. And all utheris actis quhairby
the Papis authoritie is establishit. The fourty-seven Act of
King James the third, in his Parliament halden at Edinburgh,
the twenty day of November, ane thousand, four hundredth,
three score nine zeirs, anent the Satterday and uther vigilis
to be hally dayes from Evin sang to Evin sang. ITEM, that
pairt of the thirty-one Act maid be the Queene Regent, in the
Parliament halden at Edznburgh, the first day of Februar
ane thousand, five hundreth, fifty-ane zeirs, Geving speciall
licence for haldin of Pashe and Zule. ITEM, the Kingis
Majesty and Estatis foresaidis declaris, that the secund Act
of the Parliament halden at Edinburgh, the xxij day of Maij,
the zeir of God ane thousand, five hundredth, four scoir, four
zeires, sall naways be prejudiciall, nor derogat any thing to
the privilege that God hes givin to the spirituall ofi‘ice-beareris
in the Kirk, concerning heads of religioun, materis of heresie,
excommunicatioun, collation or deprivation of ministeris, or
ony sik essential censours, speciall groundit, and havand war-
rand of the word of God. ITEM, Our said Soverane Lord,
and Estaittis of Parliament forsadis, abrogatis, cassis, and an-
nulis the XX Act of the same Parliament, halden at Edin-
burgh, the said zeir, ane thousand, five hundredth, fourscoir,
four zeires, granting commission to bischoppis and utheris
jugis, constitute in ecclesiasticall causes, to ressaue his Hienes
presentatioun to benefices, to gif collatioun thairupon, and to
put ordour in all causes ecclesiasticall: quhilk his Majesty
and Estaitis foresaidis declaris to be expyrit in the self, and
to be null in tyme cuming, and of nane availl, force, nor
effect. And thairfoir ordanis all presentationis to benefices,
to be direct to the particular presbyteries, in all tyme cuming :
with full power to thame to giif collationis thereupon; and
to put ordour to all materis and causes ecclesiasticall, within
thair boundis, according to the discipline of the Kirk : Pro-
viding the foirsaidis presbyteries be bund and astrictit to
ressaue and admitt quhatsumeuir qualifiet minister presentit
be his Majestic, or uther laic patrounes.
Act 1592, ch. 117. Unqualg'fied persons bezng deprived, the
Benefice vailres, and the Patron not presentand, the right
ofPresentut-ion pertaines to the Presbyterie, but prejudice
ofthe tackes, set be the person deprived.
Our Souerane Lord, Considering the great abuses quhilkis
ar laitlie croppen in the Kirk, throw the misbehaviour of sik
personis as ar providit to ecclesiasticall functionis : sic as per-
sonages and vicarages within any parrochin, and thairefter
neglecting thair charge, ather levis thair cure, or ellis commit-
tis sik crymes, faultis, or enormities that they are fund worthy
of the sentence of deprivatioun, ather befoir thair awin presbi-
terie, or ellis befoir the Sinodall and Generall Assemblies.
Quhilk sentence is the less regardit be thame, Because, albeit
they be deprivit of their functioun and cure within the Kirk :
zit they thinke they may bruike lawfully the profites and
rentes of their saids benefices, enduring their lyfetymes, N ot-
withstanding the said sentence of deprivatioun : Thairfore,
our Soverane Lord, with avice of the Estaitis of this present
Parliament, declairis, that all and qhatsumever sentence of
deprivatioun, ather pronouncit already, or that happenis to be
pronouncit hereafter, be ony Presbyterie, Synodall or General
Assemblie, agains ony persone or vicare within their jurisdic-
tioun, provydit sen his Hienes coronation : (All personis pro-
vydit to personages and vicarages, quha hes voit in Parlia-
ment, Secreit Council, and Sessioun, or providit thairto of


APPENDIX.
719



auld, befoir the Kingis coronatioun, And Maister George
Young, Archidene of Sanct Androis, being specially ex-
ceptit,) is and sal be repute in all jugementis, ane just cause
to seclude the persone befoir providit, and than deprivit from
all profites, commodities, rentis, and deweties of the said per-
sonage and vicarage, or benefice of cure : And that ather be
way of actioun, exception, or reply. And that the said sen-
tence of deprivatioun sall be ane sufiicient cause to mak the
said benefice to vaike thereby. And the said sentence being
extractit and presentit to the Patroun, the said Patroun sal
be bund to present ane qualifiit persone of new to the Kirk,
within the space of sex monethis thairafter. And gif he fail-
zie to do the same, the said Patroun sal tyne the richt of pre-
sentation for that tyme allanerlie : And the richt of presen-
tatioun to be devolvit in the handes of the Presbytery within
the quhilk benefice lyes ; to the effect that they may dispone
the same, and gif collatioun thereof, to sik ane qualifiit per-
sone as they sall think expedient. Providing allwayes, in
caise the Presbytery refuises to admit ane qualifiit minister,
presentit to thame be the Patroun, It sall be lauchful to the
Patroun to retene the haill fruitis of the same benefice in his
awin handes. And forder, his Hienes and Estatis forsaides
declaris, that the deprivatioun already pronouncit, or to be
pronouncit, be ony Presbytery, Synodall or General Assem-
blies, agains ony of the personis or vicaris afoirsaid, sall na-
wayes hurte or be prejudiciall to ony tackes, lawchfullie set
be that persone deprivit, befoir his deprivatioun, to quhat—
sumevir personis.
The Scottish Parliament, in March 1649, having met and
being free from “ the pressure from without,” and guided by
a religious spirit, passed the following liberal and enlightened
act.
Act cf Parliament abolishing the Patronage of Kirhs, at
Edinburgh, March 9, 1649.
The Estates of Parliament being sensible of the great obli-
gation that lies upon them by the National Covenant, and by
the Solemn League and Covenant, and by many deliverances
and mercies from God, and by the late Solemn Engagement
unto Duties, to preserve the doctrine, and maintain and vindi-
cate the liberties of the Kirk of Scotland, and to advance the
work of reformation therein to the utmost of their ower;
and, considering that patronages and presentations of liirks is
an evil and bondage, under which the Lord’s people and mi-
nisters of this land have long groaned; and that it hath no
warrant in God’s Word, but is founded only on the canon law,
and is a custom popish, and brought into the Kirk in time of
ignorance and superstition; and that the same is contrary to
the Second Book of Discipline, in which, upon solid and good
ground, it is reckoned amongst abuses that are desired to be
reformed, and unto several acts of General Assemblies ; and
that it is prejudicial to the liberty of the people and planting
of kirks, and unto the free calling and entry of ministers unto
their charge ; and the said estates, being willing and desirous
to promote and advance the Reformation foresaid, that every
thing in the house of God may be ordered according to his
word and commandment, do therefore, from the sense of the
former obligations, and upon the former grounds and reasons,
discharge for ever hereafter all patronages and presentations
of kirks, whether belonging to the King, or to any laick pa-
tron, Presbyteries, or others within this kingdom, as being
unlawful and unwarrantable by God’s \Vord, and contrary to
the doctrine and liberties of the Kirk ; and do repeal, rescind,
make void, and annul all gifts and rights granted thereanent,
and all former acts made in Parliament, or in any inferior
judicatory, in favours of any patron or patrons whatsoever,
so far as the same doth or may relate unto the presentation
of kirks; and do statute and ordain, that no person or persons
whatsomever shall, at any time hereafter, take upon them,
under pretext of any title, infeftmént, act of Parliament, pos-

session or warrant whatsoever, which are hereby repealed, to .
give, subscribe, or seal any presentation to any kirk within
this kingdom ; and discharges the passing of any infeftment
hereafter, bearing a right to patronages, to be granted in fa-
vours of those for whom the infeftments are presented ; and
that no person or persons shall, either in the behalf of them-
selves or others, procure, receive, or make use of any presenta-
tion to any kirk within this kingdom. And it is further de-
clared and ordained, that if any presentation shall hereafter be
effect; and that it is lawful for Presbyteries to reject the same,
and to refuse to admit any to trials thereupon ; and, notwith-
standing thereof, to proceed to the planting of the kirk, upon
the suit and calling, or with the consent of the congregation, on
whom none is to be obtruded against their will. And it is
decerned, statuted, and ordained, that whosoever hereafter
shall, upon the suit and calling of the congregation, after due
examination of their literature and conversation, be admitted
by the Presbytery unto the exercise and function of the
ministry, in any parish within this kingdom, that the said
person or persons, without a presentation, by virtue of their
admission, hath sufficient right and title to possess and enjoy
the manse and glebe, and the whole rents, profits, and sti-
pends, which the ministers of that parish had formerly pos-
sesst and enjoyed, or that hereafter shall be modified by the
commission for plantation of kirks . . . . . . And because it
is needful, that the just and proper interest of congregations
and Presbyteries, in providing of kirks and ministers be
clearly determined by the General Assembly, and what is to
be accounted the congregation having that interest; therefore,
it is hereby seriously recommended unto the next General
Assembly, clearly to determine the same, and to condescend
upon a certain standing way for being a settled rule therein
for all times coming.
The acts passed during the reigns of Charles II. and James
VIL, tyrannical in their spirit and oppressive in their nature,
perished at the period of the Revolution, in 1688. In June
1690, when Parliament met, that important act was passed
“ ratifying the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian
Church Government,” known by the name of the Revo-
lution Settlement.
Act l690, ch. 5. Act Ratifti/ing the Confession of Faith, and
Settling Presbyterian Church Government.
Our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen’s Ma-
jesties, and three Estates of Parliament, conceiving it to be
their bound duty, after the great deliverance that God hath
lately wrought for this Church and Kingdom,—in the first
place, to settle and secure therein the true Protestant religion,
according to the truth of God’s \Vord, as it hath of a long
time been professed within this land : As also the government
of Christ’s Church within this nation, agreeable to the Word
of God, and most conducive to the advancement of true piety
and godliness, and the establishing of peace and tranquillity
within this realme : And that, by an article of the Claim of
Right, it is declared that Prelacy, and the superiority of any
ofiice in the Church above Presbyteries is, and hath been, a
great and unsupportable grievance and trouble to this nation,
and contrary to the inclinations of the generality of the people
ever since the Reformation,--they having reformed from
Popery by Presbyters,——and therefore ought to be abolished :
Likeas, by an Act of the last Session of this Parliament
Prelacy is abolished : Therefore their Majesties, with advice
and consent of the said Three Estates, do hereby revive, rati-
fie and perpetually confirm, all Laws, Statutes, and Acts of
Parliament made against Popery and Papists, and for the
maintenance and preservation of the true reformed Protestant
religion, and for the true Church of Christ within this king-
dom, in so far as they confirm the same, or are made in fa—
vours thereof. Likeas, they, by these presents, ratifie and
establish the Confession of Faith, now read in their presence ;
and voted and approved by them, as the publick and avowed
Confession of this Church, containing the sum and substance
of the doctrine of the Reformed Churches (which Confession
of Faith is subjoined to this present Act). As also they do
establish, ratifie, and confirm the Presbyterian Church govern-
ment and discipline; that is to say, the government of the
Church by Kirk-Sessions, Presbyteries, Provincial Synods,
and General Assemblies, ratified and established by the
114th Act, J a. 6, Parl. 1'2, anno 1592, intituled, Ratification
of the Liberty of the true Kirk, (Sc, and thereafter received
by the general consent of this nation, to be the only govern-
ment of Christ’s Church within this kingdom; reviving, re-
newing, and confirming the foresaid Act of Parliament, in
the whole heads thereof, except that part of it relating to Par
‘ tronages, which is hereafter to be taken into consideration ;
given, procured, or received, that the same is null, and of none _
And rescinding, annulling, and making void the Acts of
Parliament following, viz. z—Act anent Restitution of Bis-
hops, Ja. 6, Parl. l8, cap. ‘2; Act Ratifying the Acts of




720
APPENDIX.





Assembly 1610, J a. 6, Parl. 21, cap. 1; Act anent the Elec~
tion of Archbishops and Bishops, J a. 6, Parl. 22, cap. 1;
Act intituled, Ratification of the Five Articles of the Gen-
eral Assembly at Perth, J a. 6, Parl. 23, cap. 1 ; Act intituled,
For the Restitution and Re-establishment of the ancient
Government of the Church by Archbishops and Bishops, ch.
2, Parl. l, Sess. 2, Act 1; anent the Constitution of a Na-
tional Synod, ch. 2, Parl. 1, Sess. 3, Act 5; Act against such
as refuse to depone against delinquents, ch. 2, Parl. 2, Sess.
2, Act 2; Act intituled, Act acknowledging and asserting
the right of Succession to the Imperial Crown of Scotland,
ch. 2, Parl. 3, Act 2; Act intituled, Act anent Religion and
the Test, ch. 2, Parl. 3, Act 6; with all other acts, laws,
statutes, ordinances, and proclamations, and that in so far al-
lenarly as the said Acts, and others generally and particularly
above-mentioned, or contrary or prejudicial to, inconsistent
with, or derogatory from the Protestant religion and Presby—
terian government now established; and allowing and declar-
ing that the church government be established in the hands
of, and exercised by, these Presbyterian ministers who were
outed since the lst of January 1661, for non-conformity to
Prelacy, or not complying with the courses of the times ; and
are now restored by the late Act of Parliament, and such
ministers and elders only as they have admitted or received,
or shall hereafter admit or receive: And also, that all the
said Presbyterian ministers have, and shall have, right to the
maintenance, rights, and other privileges, by law provided to
the ministers of Christ’s Church within this kingdom, as
they are, or shall be, legally admitted to particular churches.
Likeas, in pursuance of the premises, their Majesties do here-
by appoint the first meeting of the General Assembly of this
Church, as above established, to be at Edinburgh, the third
Thursday of October next to come, in this instant year, 1690.
And because many conform ministers either have deserted,
or were removed from preaching in their churches, preceding
the thirteenth day of April 1689, and others were deprived
for not giving obedience to the Act of the Estates made in
the said thirteenth of April 1689, intituled, Proclamation
against the owning of the late King James, and appointing
publick prayers for King William and Queen Mary: There-
fore their Majesties, with advice and consent foresaid, do
hereby declare all the churches, either deserted, or from
which the conform ministers were removed or deprived, as
said is, to be vacant; and that the Presbyterian ministers
exercising their ministry within any of these paroches (or
where the last incumbent is dead), by the desire or consent
of the paroch, shall continue their possession, and have right
to the benefices and stipends, according to their entry in the
year 1689, and in time coming, ay, and while the Church, as
now established, take further course therewith. And to the
effect the disorders that have happened in this Church may


be redressed, their Majesties, with advice and consent fore- ,
said, do hereby allow the general meeting, and representa-
tives of the foresaid Presbyterian ministers and elders, in
whose hands the exercise of the Church government is estab-
lished, either by themselves, or by such ministers and elders
as shall be appointed and authorized visitors by them, accord-
ing to the custom and practice of Presbyterian government
throughout the whole kingdom, and several parts thereof, to
try and purge out all insufficient, negligent, scandalous, and
erroneous ministers, by due course of ecclesiastical process
and censures ; and, likewise, for redressing all other Church
disorders. And further, it is hereby provided, that whatso-
ever minister, being convened before the said general meeting
and representatives of the Presbyterian ministers and elders,
or the visitors to be appointed by them, shall either prove
contumacious in not appearing, or be found guilty, and shall
be therefore censured, whether by suspension or deposition,
they shall ipso facto be suspended from or deprived of their
stipends and benefices.
Act 1690, ch. 23. Act concerning Patronages.
Cur Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen's Ma-
jesties, considering, that the power of presenting ministers to
vacant churches, of late exercised by patrons, hath been
greatly abused, and is inconvenient to be continued in this
realm, do therefore, with the advice and consent of the Estates
of Parliament, hereby discharge, cass, annul, and make void
the foresaid power, heretofore exercised by any patron, of
presenting ministers to any kirk now vacant, or that shall
ereafter happen to vaik within this kingdom, with all exer-
cise of the said power : And also all rights, gifts, and infeft-
ments, acts, statutes, and customs, in so far as they may be ex.
tended, or understood, to establish the said right of presenta-
tion; but prejudice always, of such ministers as are duly
entered by the foresaid presentations (while in use), their
right to the manse, lebe, benefice, stipend, and other profits
of their respective c urches, as accords: And but rejudice
to the patrons of their right to employ the vacant stipends on
pious uses, within the respective paroches, except where the
patron is popish, in which case he is to employ the same on
pious uses, by the advice and appointment of the Presbytery ;
and in case the patron shall fail in applying the vacant sti-
pend for the uses foresaid, that he shall lose his right of ad-
ministration of the vacant stipend for that and the next
' vacancy, and the same shall be disposed on by the Presby-
tery to the uses foresaid; excepting always the vacant stipends
within the bounds of the Synod of Argyle : And to the effect,
the calling and entering ministers, in all time coming, may
be orderly and regularly performed, their Majesties, with
consent of the Estates of Parliament, do statute and declare,
That, in case of the vacancy of any particular church, and
for supplying the same with a minister, the heritors of the
said parish (being Protestants) and the elders are to name
and propose the person to the whole congregation, to be either
approven or disapproven by them; and if they disapprove,
that the disapprovers give in their reasons, to the effect the
affair may be cognosced upon by the Presbytery of the bounds,
at whose judgment, and by whose determination, the calling
and entry of a particular minister is to be ordered and con-
cluded. And it is hereby enacted, that if application be not
made by the eldership, and heritors of the paroch, to the
Presbytery, for the call and choice of a minister, within the
space of six months after the vacancy, that then the Presby-
tery may proceed to provide the said parish, and plant a
minister in the church, tanquamjm'e de'voluto. It is always
hereby declared, that this act shall be but prejudice of the
calling of ministers to royal burghs by the Magistrates,
Town-Council, and Kirk-Session of the burgh, where there is
no landward parish, as they have been in use before the year
1660. And where there is a considerable part of the parocb
in landward, that the call shall be by Magistrates, Town-
Council, Kirk-Session, and the heritors of the landward
paroch. And in lieu and recompense of the said right of
presentation, hereby taken away, their majesties, with advice
and consent aforesaid, statute and ordain the heritors and
liferenters of each paroch, and the Town-Councils for the
burgh, to pay the said patrons, betwixt and Martinmas next,
the sum of six hundred merks, &c.
The object of the following Act, as its title bears, was to
secure “quiet and peace” in the Church; but how far this
was attained, will be seen by referring to the History of the
Church of Scotland at this period.
Act 1693. Act fin‘ Settling the Quiet and Peace oftlze Church.
Our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and Queen’s Ma-
jesties, with advice and consent of the Estates of Parliament,
ratifie, approve, and perpetually confirm the fifth act of the
second session of this current parliament, entitled, Act ratify-
ing the Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church
Government, in the whole Heads, Articles, and Clauses
thereof; and do further statute and ordain, that no person be
admitted, or continued for hereafter, to be a minister or
preacher within this Church, unless that he having first taken
and subscribed the oath of allegiance, and subscribed the as-
surance, in manner appointed by another act of this present
session of parliament, made thereanent: Do also subscribe
the Confession of Faith, ratified in the foresaid fifth act of
the second session of this parliament, declaring the same to
be the confession of his faith, and that he owns the doctrine
therein contained to be the true doctrine which he will con-
stantly adhere to : As, likewise, that he owns and acknow-
ledges Presbyterian Church government, as settled by the
foresaid fifth act of the second session of this parliament, to
be the only government of this Church, and that he will sub-
mit thereto, and concur therewith, and never endeavour,
directly or indirectly, the prejudice or subversion thereof.
And their Maj esties, with advice and consent foresaid, statute
and ordain, that uniformity of worship, and of the administra
tion of all public ordinances within this Church, be observed
by all the saids ministers and preachers, as the same are at
present performed and allowed therein, or shall be hereafter
fi
APPENDIX.
721



declared by the authority of the same ; and that no minister
or preacher be admitted or continued for hereafter, unless that
he subscribe to observe, and do actually observe, the foresaid
uniformity : And for the more effectual settling the quiet and
peace of this Church, the estates of parliament do hereby
make a humble address to their Majesties, that they would
be pleased to call a General Assembly, for the ordering the
affairs of the Church. and to the end that all the present
ministers possessing churches, not yet admitted to the exer-
cise of the foresaid Church government, conform to the said
Act, and who shall qualify themselves in manner foresaid,
and shall apply to the said Assembly, or the other Church
judicatures competent, in an orderly way, each man for him-
self, be received to partake with them in the government
thereof : Certifying such as shall not qualify themselves, and
apply to the said Assembly, or other judicatures, within the
space of thirty days after meeting of the said first Assem-
bly, in manner foresaid, that they may be deposed by the
sentence of the said Assembly and other judicatures tam ab
ofiicio quam a beneficio (as from the oflice, so also from the
benefice) ; and withal declaring, that if any of the said minis-
ters who have not hitherto been received into the government
of the Church, shall offer to qualify themselves, and to apply in
manner foresaid, they shall have their Majesties’ full protec-
tion, aye and until they shall be admitted and received in
manner foresaid; providing always that this Act, and the
benefit thereof, shall no ways be extended to such of the said
ministers as are scandalous, erroneous, negligent, or insuifi-
cient, and against whom the same shall be verified, within
the space of thirty days after the said application : but these
and all others in like manner guilty, are hereby declared to
be liable and subject to the power and censure of the Church,
as accords : And to the effect that the representation of this
Church, in its General Assemblies, may be the more equal
in all time coming. recommends it to the first Assembly that
shall be called, to appoint ministers to be sent as Commis-
sioners from every Presbytery, not in equal numbers, which
is manifestly unequal where Presbyteries are so, but in a due
proportion to the churches and parishes within every Presby-
tery, as they shall judge convenient ; and it is hereby declared,
that all schoolmasters, and teachers of youth in schools, are
and shall be liable to the trial. judgment, and censure of the
Presbyteries of the bounds, for their sufiiciency, qualifica-
tions, and deportment in the said otfice. And lastly, their
Majesties, with advice and consent foresaid do hereby statute
and ordain, that the Lords of their Majesties’ privy council,
and all other magistrates, judges. and otficers of justice, give
all due assistance for making the sentences and censures of
the Church and judicatures thereof to be obeyed, or other-
wise efi‘ectual, as accords.
The Act of Security passed at the Union of the two king-
doms here follows :—
Act for Securing the Protestant Religion and Presbyterian
Church Government, which was the basis of the Treaty of
Union, at Edinburgh, January 16, 1707.
Our Sovereign Lady, and the Estates of Parliament, con-
sidering, That by the late Act of Parliament for a treaty with
England, for an union of both kingdoms, it is provided, that
the commissioners for that treaty should not treat of or con-
cerning any alteration of the worship, discipline, and govern-
ment of the Church in this kingdom as now by law established,
which treaty being now reported to the Parliament, and it be-
ing reasonable and necessary, that the true Protestant religion,
as presently professed within this kingdom, with the worship,
discipline, and government of this Church, should be ejfectually
and unalterably secured, therefore, her Majesty, with advice
and consent of the said Estates of Parliament, do hereby
establish and confirm the said true Protestant religion, and
the worship, discipline, and government of this Church, to
continue without any alteration to the people of this land in
all succeeding generations: and more especially, her Majesty,
with advice and consent aforesaid, ratifies, approves, and for
ever confirms the fifth act of the first Parliament of King
William and Queen Mary, entitled, “ An Act ratifying the .
Confession of Faith, and settling Presbyterian Church Go-
vernment, with the bail other Acts of Parliament relating
thereto, in prosecution of the declaration of the estates of this
kingdom, containing the Claim of Right, hearing date the llth
of April, 1689.” And her Majesty, with advice and consent
foresaid, expressly provides and declares, that the foresaid

true Protestant religion, contained in the above-mentioned
Confession of Faith, with the form and purity of worship pre-
sently in use within this Church, and its Presbyterian church
government and discipline; that is to say, the government of
the Church by Kirk-Sessions, Presbyteries, Provincial Synods,
and General Assembly, all established by the foresaid acts of
Parliament, pursuant to the Claim of Right, shall remain
and continue unalterable; and that the said Presbyterian
government shall be the on/ y government of the Church within
the kingdom of Scotland. -
And further, for the greater security of the foresaid Protes-
tant religion, and of the worship, discipline, and government
of this Church, as above established, her Majesty, with advice
and consent foresaid, statutes and ordains, That the universi-
ties and colleges of St Andrews, Glasgow, Aberdeen, and
Edinburgh, as now established by law, shall continue within
this kingdom for ever : and that in all time coming, no pro—
fessors, principals, regents, masters, or others, bearing ofiice
in any university, college, or school, within this kingdom, be
capable, or be admitted, or allowed to continue in the exer-
cise of their said functions, but such as shall own and acknow-
ledge the civil government in manner prescribed, or to be
prescribed by the acts of Parliament : as also, that before or
at their admissions, they do and shall acknowledge, and pro-
fess, and shall subscribe to the foresaid Confession of Faith,
as the confession of their faith; and that they will practise
and conform themselves to the worship presently in use in this
Church, and submit themselves to the government and disci-
pline thereof; and never endeavour, directly or indirectly,
the prejudice or subversion of the same; and that before the
respective Presbyteries of their bounds, by whatsomever gift,
presentation, or provision they may be thereto provided.
And further, her Majesty, with advice foresaid, expressly
declares and statutes, that none of the subjects of this king-
dom shall be liable to, but all and every one of them, for ever
free of, any oath, test, or subscription within this kingdom,
contrary to or inconsistent with the foresaid true Protestant
religion, and Presbyterian church government, worship, and
discipline, as above established: and that the same within
the bounds of this Church and kingdom, shall never be im-
posed upon or required of them, in any sort.
And lastly, that after the decease of her present Majesty
(whom God long preserve), the sovereign succeeding to her in
the royal government of the kingdom of Great Britain, shall
in all time coming, at his or her accession to the crown, swear
and subscribe, that they shall inviolably maintain and preserve
the foresaid settlement of the true Protestant religion, with
the government, worship, discipline, rights and privileges of
this Church, as above established by the laws of this kingdom,
in prosecution of the Claim of Right: and it is hereby statute
and ordained. that this act of Parliament, with the establish-
ment therein contained, shall be held and observed in all time
coming, as a fundamental and essential condition of any
treaty or union to be concluded betwiirt the two kingdoms,
without any alteration thereqfl or derogation thereto, in any
sort for ever: as also, that this act of Parliament, and set-
tlement therein contained, shall be insert and repeated in any
act of Parliament that shall pass jbr agreeing and concluding
the foresaid treaty or union betwixt the two kingdoms; and
that the same shall be therein expressly declared to be a fun-
damental and essential condition of the said treaty or union
in all time coming.
Act Ratifying and A pproving the Treaty of Union 0 the two
Kingdoms of Scotland and England, January 6, 1707,
founded on the foresaid Act of Security.
The Estates of Parliament considering that Articles of
Union of the kingdoms of Scotland and England were agreed
on the ‘lid of July 1706 years, &c. . . . . . and sicklike,
her Majesty, with advice and consent of the Estates of Parlia-
ment, resolving to establish the Protestant religion and Pres-
byterian church government, has passed in this session of
Parliament an “ Act for securing of the Protestant Religion
and Presbyterian Church Government,” which, by the tenor
thereof, is appointed to be insert in any act ratifying the treaty,
and expressly declared to be a fundamental and essential con-
dition of the said treaty of union in all time coming,” &c.
The Act of Security being here inserted, the document
follows :—
Which Articles of Union, and act immediately above writ-
ten, her Majesty, w1th advice and consent aforesaid, statutes
4v
722
APPENDIX.




f
enacts, and ordains to be and continue in all time coming the
sure and perpetual foundation of a complete and entire union
of the two kingdoms of Scotland and England, under the ex-
press condition and provision, That this approbation and rati-
fication of the foresaid articles and act shall be noways bind-
ing on this kingdom, until the said articles and act be ratified,
approved, and confirmed by her Majesty, with and by the
authority of the Parliament of England, as they are now
agreed to, approved and confirmed by her Majesty, with and
by the authority of the Parliament of Scotland. Declaring
nevertheless, That the Parliament of England may provide
for the security of the Church of England, as they think it
expedient, to take place within the bounds of the said king-
dom of England, and not derogating from the security above
provided for establishing of the Church of Scotland within
the bounds of this kingdom. As also, the said Parliament
of England may extend the additions and other provisions
contained in the Articles of Union, as above insert, in favours
of the subjects of Scotland, to and in favours of the subjects
of England, which shall not suspend or derogate from the
force and effect of this present ratification, but shall be under-
stood as herein included, without the necessity of any new
ratification in the Parliament of Scotland. And lastly, her
dlajestg/ enacts and declares, that all laws and statutes in this
kingdom, so fiu' as they are contrary to. 07' inconsistent with
the terms of these articles, as above mentioned, shall from
and after the Union cease and become void.
The Patronage Act is here inserted to show the violation
of national faith, by Queen Anne’s Jacobite ministry, and
contrary to the Act of Security and the Revolution Settle-
ment.
Act 10, Q. Anne, ch. 12, 1711. An Act to restore the Pa-
trons to their ancient Rights of presenting 1W inisters to the
Churches vacant in that part of Great Britain called
Scotland.
I. \Vhereas, by the autient laws and constitutions of that
part of Great Britain called Scotland, the presenting of min-
isters to vacant churches did of right belong to the patrons,
until, by the twenty-third Act of the second session of the
first Parliament of the late King William and Queen Mary,
held in the year one thousand six hundred and ninety, inti-
tuled, " Act concerning Patronages,” the presentation was
taken from the patrons, and given to the heritors and elders
of the respective parishes; and, in place of the right of pre-
sentation, the heritors and liferenters of every parish were to
pay to the respective patrons a small and inconsiderable sum
of money, for which the patrons were to renounce their right
of presentation in all times thereafter: And whereas by the
fifteenth act of the fifth session, and by the thirteenth act of
the sixth session, of the first Parliament of the said King
William, the one intituled “ An Act for encouraging of
Preachers at vacant Churches benorth Forth,” and the other
intituled, “ Act in favour of Preachers benorth Forth ;” there
are several burdens imposed upon vacant stipends, to the pre-
judice of the patron’s right of disposing thereof : And whereas
that way of calling ministers has proved inconvenient, and
has not only occasioned great beats and divisions among those
who, by the aforesaid act, were entitled and authorized to call
ministers, but likewise has been a great hardship upon the
patrons, whose predecessors had founded and endowed those
churches : and who had not received payment or satisfaction
for their right of patronage from the aforesaid heritors or life-
renters of the respective parishes, nor have granted renuncia-
tions of their said rights on that account: Be it therefore
enacted, by the Queen’s most excellent Majesty, by and with
the advice and consent of the Lords spiritual and temporal,
and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by
the authority of the same, that the aforesaid act, made in the
year one thousand six hundred and ninety, intituled, “Act
concerning Patronages,” in so far as the same relates to the
presentation of ministers by heritors and others therein men-
tioned, be, and is hereby repealed and made void; and that
the aforesaid fifteenth act of the fifth session, and thirteenth
act of the sixth session, of the first Parliament of King Wil-
liam. be, and are hereby likewise repealed and made void:
and that in all time coming, the right of all and every patron
or patrons to the presentation of ministers to churches and
benefices, and the disposing of the vacant stipends for pious
uses within the parish, be restored. settled, and confirmed to
them, the aforesaid acts, or any other act, statute, or custom
to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding; and that from
and after the first day of May one thousand seven hundred
and twelve, it shall and may be lawful for her Majesty, her
heirs and successors, and for every other person or persons
who have right to any patronage or patronages of any church
or churches whatsoever, in that part of Great Britain called
Scotland (and who have not made and subscribed a formal re-
nunciation thereof under their hands), to present a qualified
minister or ministers to any church or churches whereof they
are patrons, which shall, after the first day of May, happen to
be vacant; and the Presbytery of the respective bounds shall,
and is hereby obliged to receive and admit, in the same man-
ner, such qualified person or persons, minister or ministers, as
shall be presented by the respective patrons, as the persons or
ministers presented before the making of this act ought to
have been admitted.
II. Provided always, that in case any patron or patrons
have accepted of and received any sum or sums of money
from the heritors or liferenters of any parish, or from the
Magistrates or Town Council of any borough, in satisfaction
of their right of presentation. and have discharged or re-
nounced the same under their hand, that nothing herein shall
be construed to restore such patron or patrons to their right
of presentation; any thing in this present act to the contrary
notwithstanding.
III. Provided also, and it is hereby enacted, by the autho-
rity aforesaid, that in case the patron of any church aforesaid
shall neglect or refuse to present any qualified minister to
such church that shall be vacant the said first day of May, or
shall happen to be vacant at any time thereafter, for the space
of six months after the said first day of May. or after such
vacancy shall happen. that the right of presentation shall ac~
crue and belong for that time to the Presbytery of the bound.
where such church is, who are to present a qualified person
for that vacancy, tanquamjure devoluto.
IV. And be it further enacted and declared by the autho
rity aforesaid, that the patronage and right of presentations of
ministers to all churches which belonged to archbishops,
bishops, or other dignified persons. in the year one thousand
six hundred and eighty-nine, before Episcopacy was abolished,
as well as those which formerly belonged to the Crown, shall
and do of right belong to her Majesty, her heirs and succes-
sors, who may present qualified ministers to such church 01
churches, and dispose of the vacant stipends thereof for pious
uses, in the same way and manner as her Majesty, her heirs
and successors, may do in the case of other patronages be'
longing to the Crown.
V. Declaring always, that nothing in this present act con-
tained shall extend, or be construed to extend, to repeal and
make void the aforesaid twenty-third act of the second session
of the first parliament of the late King William and Queen
Mary, excepting so far as relates to the calling and presenting
of ministers, and to the disposing of vacant stipends, in pre-.
judice of the patrons only.
Ercerptfrom Act 4 and 5 William I V. c. 41.
place of worship, in that part of Great Britain called Scotland,
built or acquired and endowed by voluntary contribution,
shall be erected into a parochial church, either as an addi~
tional church within a parish already provided with a paro-
chial church. or as the church of a separate parish to be erected
out of the part or parts of any existing parish or parishes,
whether the same be establishea and erected quoad spiritnw
Zia, by authority of the church courts of the Established
Church of Scotland, or also quoad temporalia, by authority
of the Commissioners of T einds, neither the King's Majesty,
nor any private person, nor any body politic or corporate,
having right to the patronage of the parish or parishes within
which such additional churches shall be established. or out of
which such new parishes shall be erected, shall have any
claim, right, or title whatsoever, to the patronage of such newly
established churches, or newly erected parishes; but the right
of presenting ministers thereto shall be exercised according to
the manner, and subject to the conditions, which shall be pro-
vided or sanctioned by the church courts establishing the said
churches, or where new parishes shall be erected, as shall be
prescribed and regulated by the said church courts erecting
such new parishes into separate spiritual jurisdictions, sub-
. ject always to such alterations as shall be made by the said
i courts, according to the laws of the Church from time to time.


Be it enacted. &c., that where any church, chapel, or other

APPENDIX.
723


[Such an act as this was rendered necessary, in order to
protect new churches from falling into the hands of the paro-
chial patron, as had been done in the case of Whitburn, by a
perverted interpretation of the Patronage act. A decision
had been given in that case that it was lawful for the patron
to appropriate to himself the nomination of a minister to any
new place of worship, in connexion with the Church of Scot-
land. upon what conditions soever erected, and whatever
stipulations might be inserted in its constitution to the con-
trary. In this case, which was to serve as a precedent for all
future erections, a blow had been struck at the antipatronage
opinions that were fast gaining ascendancy in the Church ;
and therefore, to counteract all such proceedings for time to
come, the foregoing act was acknowledged as a law of the
church. For a time the Church Extension Scheme continued
to flourish; but the Moderates, alike regardless of popular
sentiment and voluntary contribution, were at the same time
indefatigably engaged in devising schemes for their suppres-
sion. In the Court of Session, a majority was found willing
to sanction the views of the Moderate party; and therefore,
ministers of new churches, who had been inducted in terms
of the new act, were found to have been illegally admitted ;
collections made at the church doors were declared to belong
to the heritors for the support of the poor; and parochial
districts assigned to the new incumbents. quoad spiritualia,
were pronounced to be an illegal interference with the civil
rights of the parish minister. The worst feature, however,
which Moderate hostility has assumed against the new
churches is,that of denying the legality and validity of the
measures adopted in church courts, supreme and subordinate,
during the time the ministers of the new churches sat and
voted in church courts, comprising the whole period between
May i834 and May 1843. With strange inconsistency, the
Court of Session has also given its sanction to this, although
one of these ministers belonging to the Moderate party
occupied the Moderator’s chair in the General Assembly
within the time alluded to. Had this decision been car-
ried into execution, not a few of the Residuary party would
before this have been ejected from their churches, manses,
and glebes, in consequence of their ordination and induction
having thereby been rendered null and void, being the deci-
sion of an illegal court. This, however, both the civil court
and the Moderate party foresaw, and therefore matters were
not pushed to extremity. The Disruption has happily saved
them from any farther fear on that point, and when a few
more years have weeded out the whole of the Evangelical
party, they will be left to share among themselves and their
friends the quoad cit'ilia emoluments of the church, without
dread of interruption]
No. XV.
Statutes of the Church regarding Patronage and the Settle-
ment of 1W272i8t87‘8.
Much misunderstanding exists upon this all important
point; although it must be clearly evident to every unpre-
judiced mind that patronage is repugnant to the spirit, prin- I
ciples, and constitution of the Presbytgrian Church of Scot-
land. There has always been in the church, however, a
party more political than religious which has maintained an
opposite doctrine, which has very readily succumbed, to sub-
serve their own ends, to the government of the country, and
has lent a willing hand to the enforcement of lay patronage.
'l‘o settle this question, then, it is not necessary to inquire

what are the sentiments of any partv; but what the Scrip-
tural standards of the church enact. The great and funda—
mental doctrine of Scripture, “ That the Lord Jesus Christ
is the sole King and Head of the Church,” has always been
maintained by the Presbyterian Church, and therefore they
have always given out, that the appointment of ofiicebearers
in Christ’s spiritual kingdom must be in subjection to the
prescribed regulation of its Divine Head, as these can be
gathered from his own words, or in conformity to apostolical
practice. And upon the first of these points it will be found,
that the Lord Jesus has laid down the principle of his people's
responsibility in judging of who is to be their spiritual con-
ductor and teacher in the things that concern His kingdom.
The apostolical practice upon this head is perhaps even more
definite, as will be found by consulting their mode of pro-
cedure in the few instances that are upon record, as to the
way and manner in which the appointment of oihcebearers in
the church was conducted under their own immediate super-
intendence.
admission or rejection of oificebearers, i. e. pastors, elders,
and deacons, depended solely upon the direct nomination by
the people themselves, or under their concurrent sanction and
approval. Hence, then, the validity of the doctrine, that
there can be no scriptural appointment to the office of pastor,
or preaching presbyter, without the consent and approval of
the church; that is, of those who are in full communion,
having been partakers of sealing ordinances ; and of fair and
honest reputation at the time. These are the members of
Christ’s spiritual body, of which He is the only Head, in
whom is vested the exclusive privilege of nominating to the
sacred office. But in the Established Church of Scotland
now, this doctrine is made light of, and explained away;
and the people have no choice, no veto. Civil dictation has
become supreme ; the Call has been declared a non-entity,—
it has ceased to be a scriptural Presbyterian Church,—-Eras-
tianism has rung its funeral knell; and it ranks no higher
From these it must appear evident that the
than a secular corporation.
For the truth of these statements the following extracts
are subjoined.
In the First Book of Discipline, fourth Head, chap. iv.
sect. 2, drawn up by John Knox and others, it is said
that :—
“ It appertaineth to the people, and to every several con-
gregation, to elect their minister.” (First Boo/c ofbisczfaline,
Fourth Head, chap. iv. sect. ‘2.)
“ For altogether this is to be avoided, that any man be vio-
lently intruded or thrust in upon any congregation ; but this
liberty with all care must be reserved to every several church,
to have their votes and suffrages in election of their ministers."
([bid., sect. 4.)
“ The admission of ministers to their ofiices must consist in
the consent of the people and church whereto they shall be
appointed, and approbation of the learned ministers appointed
for their examination." (lbid, chap. iv. sect 8.)
In the Second Book of Discipline, drawn up by Andrew
ll/[eleille and others, and acknowledged by the Church of
Scotland, in 158i, are to be found the following :—
“This ordinary and outward calling has two parts~election
and ordination. Election is the choosing out of a person or
persons, most able for the office that vaikes, by the judgment
of the eldership, and consent of the congregation to whom the
person or persons are appointed * * * In this
ordinary election it is to be eschewed that any person be in-
truded into any of the offices of the kirk contrary to the will
of the congregation to which they are appointed, or without
the voice of the eldership." (Second Book of Discipline,
chap. iii. sect. 4, 5.)
“ The liberty of the election of persons called to the eccle-
siastical functions, and observed without interruption, so long



724:
APPENDIX.








Farther, when king James, in 1588, was squander-ing away
the property of the church, annexing patronages to lands
which had been unjustly confiscated and bestowed upon men
who were hostile to the church, and even granting patronages
to persons who had no lands, the General Assembly f‘ inhib-
ited all Commissioners and Presbyteries from giving collation
or admission to any persons presented by such new patrons.”
Can anything be more evident than this, that patronage was
not even then, nor at any time since, admitted by the Church
of Scotland as lawful and valid 5’ By these and similar
methods of injustice, nearly the whole of church patronages
were created; the church patrimony was spoliated, and con-
ferred upon creatures the most undeserving, by the weak and
wicked policy of the reigning monarch.
The Assembly of 1596, sensible of the growing evil, and
aware that much reformation was necessary to the due admis-
sion of godly men to the holy ministry, appointed a com-
mittee to investigate into these abuses. One of the resolu-
tions to which the committee came runs thus :—“ Because,
by presentations many are forcibly thrust into the ministry,
and upon congregations, that utter thereafter that they were
not called by God, it would be provided, that none seek
presentations to benefices without advice of the Presbytery
within the bounds whereof the benefice lies ; and, if any do in
the contrary, they are to be repelled, as rei ambz'tus,” (guilty of
circumvention.) At the Second Reformation, in 1638, it was
farther enacted “ anent the presenting of either pastors, or
readers, or schoolmasters, to particular congregations :—
“ That there be respect had to the congregation, and that no
person be intruded in any office of the kirk contrary to the
will of the congregation to which they are appointed ;” and in
1649, the Scottish parliament passed an act for the total aboli-
tion of patronage, the tenor of which is as follows :—
Directory for the Election of 11/! inz'sters.
“ \Vhen any place of the ministry in a congregation is
vacant, it is incumbent to the Presbytery with all diligence to
send one of their number to preach to that congregation, who.
in his doctrine, is to represent to them the necessity of pro-
viding the place with a qualified pastor; and to exhort them
to fervent prayer and supplication to the Lord, that he would
send them a pastor according to his own heart; as also he is
to signify, that the Presbytery, out of their care of that fiock,
will send unto them preachers whom they may hear; and if
they have a desire to hear any other, they will endeavour to
procure them a hearing of that person, or persons, upon the
suit of the elders to the Presbytery.
“ Within some competent time thereafter, the Presbytery is
again to send one or more of their number to the said vacant
congregation, on a certain day appointed before for that effect,
who are to convene and hear sermon the foresaid day; which
being ended, and intimation being made by the minister, that
they are to go about the election of a pastor for that congre-
gation, the Session of the congregation shall meet and proceed
to the election, the action being moderated by him that
preached; and if the people shall upon the intimation of the
person agreed upon by the Session, acquiesce and consent to
the said person, that the matter being reported to the Presby-
tery by commissioners sent from the Session, they are to pro-
ceed to the trial of the person thus elected; and, finding him
qualified, to admit him to the ministry in the said congrega-
tion.
“ But if it happen that the major part of the congregation
dissent from the person agreed upon by the Session, in that
case the matter shall be brought unto the Presbytery, who
shall judge of the same; and if they do not find their dissent
to be grounded on causeless prejudice, they are to appoint a
new election, in manner above specified.
“ But if a lesser part of the Session or congregation show
their dissent from the election, without exceptions relevant
as the Kirk was not corrupted by antichrist, we desired to
be restored and retained within this realm ; so that none be
intruded upon any congregation, either by the prince or any
inferior person, without lawful election, and the assent of the
people over whom the person is placed,—as the practice of
the apostolic and primitive Kirk, and good order, crave.
“ And because this order, which God’s \Vord craves, cannot
stand with patronages and presentations to benefices used in
the Pope’s Kirk, we desire all them that truly fear God,
earnestly to consider, that forasmuch as the names of patron-
ages and benefices, together with the effect thereof, have
flowed from the Pope and corruption of the canon law only,
in so far as thereby any person was intruded or placed over
kirks having curam animarum; and forasmuch as that man-
1181" Of proceeding hath no ground in the Word of God, but is
contrary to the same, and to the said liberty of election, they
ought not now to have place in this light of reformation;
and; therefore, whosoever will embrace God’s Word, and
deslre the kingdom of his Son, Christ Jesus, to be advanced,
they will also embrace that policy and order which the Word
of God and upright estate of this Kirk crave ; otherwise it is
lnuvain that they have professed the same.” (lbz'cL, chap.
x11. pars. 9, 10.)
The discrepancy that seems to exist between the language
of the First and Second Books of Discipline, in the apparent
preference given in the Second to the “judgment of the
eldership,” or presbytery, may be accounted for from the fact,
that about that period the people of Scotland were in a state
of great mental degradation; for, although they were eman—
cipated from the servile yoke of Popery, they were still
crushed under the humiliating tyranny of a despotic civil
government. To reconcile the conflicting expressions, it
may be necessary to observe, that “ every article of religious
freedom which was then obtained was gained for the people
composing the church, along with the ofiicebearers. This
explanation, then, completely puts to silence the unfounded
statement of the Moderate party, who maintain that the refor—
mation sought by our forefathers was not for religious liberty
to the people; but that the Ecclesiastical Courts might pro—
cure for themselves a supremacy of power. The Church of
Scotland had, indeed, succeeded in procuring a ratification of
her principles, under the royal sign manual, by encountering
the wrath of the sovereign and standing between him and
the people, that they might gain for them that liberty where-
with the Redeemer makes his followers free ; but there was
nothing in the bearing of these pious men, that could for a
moment countenance the assertion, that it was for themselves,
and not for the people, they so struggled, and bled, and died.
Such a voluntary perversion of judgment is altogether incom-
patible with the facts of history. The system may be conge-
nial to the taste and feelings of Moderatism; but it never
met with the approbation of the pure Presbyterian Church of
Scotland.
That the early Reformers considered patronage to be in-
consistent with the word of God appears evident from an act
passed in the year 1582, in order to correct an abuse which
was then beginning to creep into the church, by the “ ambi—
tion, covetousness, and indirect dealing of sundry,” who
sought to enter into the ministry by unfair dealing with
patrons ; and who, when admitted, sought as strenuously to
avoid correction and punishment for their transgression,
“ seeking by the civil power to exempt and withdraw them-
selves from the jurisdiction of the kirk ;" and “procuring
letters or charges to impair, hurt, or stay the said jurisdic-
tion.” Dealing of this kind was to be visited with the high-
est church censure; but, not to come under the ban of the
legislature, it was added—“ and this act to be noways pre-
judicial t0 the laic Patrons, and their Presentations- "m0 the I and verified to the Presbytery; notwithstanding thereof, the
time the laws be reformed according to God’s word.
Presbytery shall go on to the trials and ordination of the per


APPENDIX.
725



son elected; yet all possible diligence and tenderness must be
used to bring all parties to an harmonious agreement.
“ It is to be understood that no person under the censure of
the Kirk because of any scandalous offence, is to be admitted
to have a hand in the election of a minister.
“ \Vhere the congregation is disaffected and malignant, in
that case the Presbytery is to provide them with a minister.”
In despite of this, however, and in violation of good faith,
Charles II. abolished Presbyterianism altogether in Scotland,
and reintroduced the obnoxious system of patronage, after
the long and arduous contendings of the church to the con-
trary. The Revolution settlement, however, at the expul-
sion of the Stuarts from the throne of Britain, again confirmed
and ratified its abolition, by an Act of Security. But this state
of affairs was destined to be but of short duration; for, in
1712, by what is called the Act of Queen Anne, the national
faith was once more violated, notwithstanding the earnest
remonstrances of the General Assembly at the time; and
afterwards, in l736, when the Evangelical party, who had a
temporary ascendancy in the Church, passed the following
act “ against the intrusion of Ministers into vacant congrega-
tions, and Recommendations to Presbyteries concerning set-
tlements :—
“ The General Assembly, considering, from Act of Assem-
bly August 6, 1575, Second Book of Discipline, chap. iii.
pars. 4, 6, and 8, registrate in the Assembly books, and ap-
pointed to be subscribed by all ministers, and ratified by Acts
of Parliament, and likewise by the Act of Assembly 1638,
December 17 and 18, and Assembly 1715, act 9, that it is,
and has been since the Reformation, the principle of this
Church, ‘ that no minister be intruded into any parish contrary
to the will of the congregation ;’ do therefore seriously re-
commend to all the judicatories of the Church, to have a
due regard to the said principle in planting vacant congrega-
tions: and that all Presbyteries be at pains to bring about
harmony and unanimity in congregations, and to avoid every
thing that may excite or encourage unreasonable exceptions
in people against a worthy person that may be proposed to
be their minister in the present situation and circumstances
of the Church, so as none be intruded into such parishes, as
they regard the glory of God and edification of the body of
Christ.”
Before that Assembly broke up, instructions were given to
the Commission, and annually afterwards, to every succeeding
Commission, until the year 1784, “ empowering and directing
the said Commission to make due application to the King
and Parliament, for redress of the grievance of patronage, in
case a favourable opportunity for so doing shall occur during
the subsistence of this Commission."
In 1782, the Moderate party had succeeded so far in re-
ducing the rights of the people to a mere form, that a pro—
posal was made to abolish even the only remaining privilege
they enjoyed ', viz., the Call ; but this, however, was success-
fully resisted, and the subsequent act was passed :—
“ Upon a motion that the resolution of Assembly respect-
ing the moderation of calls should, for the satisfaction of all
concerned, be converted into a declaratory act, and printed
amongst the Acts of Assembly, the General Assembly
agreed thereto without a vote ; and in terms of said resolu—
tion did and hereby do declare, that the moderation of a call,
in the settlement of ministers, is agreeable to the immemo—
rial and constitutional practice of this Church, and ought to
be continued.”
In this state the induction of ministers continued till the
passing of the memorable Act on Calls, on the 29th May, 1835,
when the General Assembly enacted.
“ That it is a fundamental law of this Church, that no pastor
shall be intruded on any congregation contrary to the will of the
people; and. in order that this principle may be carried into full
effect, the General Assembly, with the consent of a majority of
the Presbyteries of this Church, do declare, enact, and ordain,
That it shall be an instruction to Presbyteries, that if, at the ,

moderating in a call to a vacant pastoral charge, the major
part of the male heads of families, members of the vacant con-
gregation, and in full communion with the Church, shall dis-
approve of the person in whose favour the call is proposed to
be moderated in, such disapproval shall be deemed sui'licient
ground for the Presbytery rejecting such person, and that he
shall be rejected accordingly, and due notice thereof forth-
with given to all concerned; but that, if the major part of
the said heads of families shall not disapprove of such per-
son to be their pastor, the Presbytery shall proceed with the
settlement according to the rules of the Church : And fur-
ther declare, that no person shall be held to be entitled to
disapprove as aforesaid, who shall refuse, if required,
solemnly to declare, in presence of the Presbytery, that he is
actuated by no factions or malicious motive, but solely by a
conscientious regard to the spiritual interest of himself or the
congregation."
The usual form of a Call runs in the following words, which
it may be proper here to transcribe :—
“ \Ye the Heritors, Elders, Heads of Families, and Pari-
shioners of the Parish of , within the bounds of the
Presbytery of , and county of , taking into con-
sideration the present destitute state of the said Parish, through
the want of a Gospel ministry among us, occasioned by the
death of our late pastor, the Rev. , being satis-
fied with the learning, abilities, and other good qualifications
of you, Mr , Preacher of the Gospel, and hav-
ing heard you preach to our satisfaction and edification, do
hereby invite and call you,the said Mr . to take
charge and oversight of this Parish, and to come and labour
among us in the work of the Gospel ministry, hereby promis-
mg to you all due respect and encouragement in the Lord.
\Ve likewise entreat the Reverend Presbytery of to
approve and concur with this our most cordial call, and to use
all the proper means for making the same effectual, by your
ordination and settlement among us, as soon as the steps ne-
cessary thereto will admit. In witness whereof, we subscribe
these presents, at the Church of , on the day of
, years.”
Adherence to such a solemn document as the above, in
terms of the Veto act, reduced Scotland to a state of agitation
and religious ferment from one end to the other. Application
was made to parliament for the total repeal of patronage by
the Evangelical party in the church ; and a claim of Rights,
asserting her spiritual independence, declaring Christ to be
the sole and only Head of the Church, and maintaining that
His authority was decidedly in favour of their views, was
given in to the government. Both of these were disregarded.
The consequence, therefore, was, that the majority of the Evan-
gelical Ministers were driven out of the church, because they
would not how the knee to Cesar, and perform deeds at the
heck of the civil court, contrary to the primitive and estab-
lished principles of the church; contrary to the statute law of
the land; contrary to the command, and derogatory to the
Crown Rights of the Loan Jesus Cums-r, the ALONE KING
AND HEAD OF THE CHURCH.








No. XVI.
The Protest, 18th llfay, 1343.
Vile, the undersigned ministers and elders, chosen as com-
missioners to the General Assembly of the Church of Scot-
land, indicted to meet this day, but precluded from holding
the said Assembly by reason of the circumstances hereinafter
set forth, in consequence of which a. free Assembly of the
Church of Scotland, in accordance with the laws and constitu-
tion of the said Church, cannot at this time be holden,—con-
sidering that the Legislature, by their rejection of the Claim
of Rights adopted by the last General Assembly of the said
Churbh, and their refusal to give redress and protection against
the jurisdiction assumed, and the coercion of late repeatedly
attempted to be exercised over the courts of the Church in
matters spiritual by the civil courts, have recognised and fixed
the conditions of the Church Establishment, as henceforward



726
APPENDIX.



to subsist in Scotland, to be such as these have been pro-
nounced and declared by the said civil courts in their several
recent decisions, in regard to matters spiritual and ecclesiasti-
cal. whereby it has been inter alz'a declared,-
1st, That the courts of the Church as now established, and
members thereof, are liable to be coerced by the civil courts
in the exercise of their spiritual functions ; and in particular,
in their admission to the office of the holy ministry, and the
constitution of the pastoral relation, and that they are subject
to be compelled to intrude ministers on reclaiming congrega-
tions, in opposition to the fundamental principles of the
Church and their views of the Word of God, and to the liber-
ties of Christ’s people.
2d, That the said civil courts have power to interfere with,
and interdict the preaching of the gospel and administration
of ordinances as authorized and enjoined by the Church courts
of the Establishment.
3d, That the said civil courts have power to suspend spirit-
.ial censures pronounced by the Church courts of the Estab-
lishment against ministers and probationers of the Church,
and to interdict their execution, as to spiritual effects, func-
tions, and privileges.
4th, That the said civil courts have power to reduce and set
aside the sentences of the Church courts of the Establishment,
deposing ministers from the office of the holy ministry, and
depriving probationers of their license to preach the gospel,
with reference to the spiritual status, functions, and privileges
of such ministers and probationers,-—restoring them to the
spiritual office and status of which the Church courts had de-
prived them.
5th, That the said civil courts have power to determine on
the right to sit as members of the supreme and other judica-
tories of the Church by law established, and to issue inter~
:licts against sitting and voting therein, irrespective of the
judgment and determination of the said judicatories.
6th, That the said civil courts have power to supersede the
majority of a Church court of the Establishment, in regard to
the exercise of its spiritual functions as a Church court, and
to authorize the minority to exercise the said functions, in op-
position to the court itself, and to the superior judicatories of
the Establishment.
7th, That the said civil courts have power to stay processes
of discipline pending before courts of the Church by law
established, and to interdict such courts from proceeding
therein.
8th, That no pastor of a congregation can be admitted into
the Church courts of the Establishment. and allowed to rule,
as well as to teach, agreeable to the institution of the office by
the Head of the Church, nor to sit in any of the judicatories
of the Church, inferior or supreme, and that no additional pro-
vision can be made for the exercise of spiritual discipline
among members of the Church, though not affecting any
patrimonial interests, and no alteration introduced in the
state of pastoral superintendence and spiritual discipline in
any parish, without the coercion of a civil court.
All which jurisdiction and power on the part of the said
civil courts severally above specified, whatever proceeding
may have given occasion to its exercise, is, in our opinion,
in itself inconsistent with Christian liberty,—--with the autho-
rity which the Head of the Church hath conferred on the
Church alone.
And further, considering that a General Assembly, com—
posed, in accordance with the laws and fundamental principles
of the Church, in part of commissioners, themselves admitted
without the sanction of the civil court, or chosen by presby-
teries, composed in part of members not having that sanction,
cannot be constituted as an Assembly of the Establishment,
without disregarding the law and the legal conditions of the
same, as now fixed and declared.
And further, considering that such commissioners as afore-
said would, as members of an Assembly of the Establishment,
be liable to be interdicted from exercising'their functions, and
to be subjected to civil coercion at the instance of any indivi-
dual having interest who might apply to the civil courts for
that purpose.
And considering. further. that civil coercion has already
been in divers instances applied for and used, whereby certain
commissioners returned to the Assembly this day appointed to
have been holden, have been interdicted from claiming their
seats, and from sitting and voting therein ; and certain pres-
byteries have been, by interdicts directed against the mem-
bers, prevented from freely choosing commissioners to the said

Assembly; whereby the freedom of such Assembly, and the
liberty of election thereto, has been forcibly obstructed and
taken away. .
And further, considering that, in these circumstances. a free
Assembly of the Church of Scotland by law established cannot
at this time be holden, and that any Assembly, in accordance
with the fundamental principles of the Church, cannot be con-
stituted in connexion with the State, without violating the
conditions which must now, since the rejection by the Legis-
lature of the Church’s Claim of Right, be held to be the con-
ditions of the Establishment.
And considering that, while heretofore, as members of
Church judicatories ratified by law, and recognised by the
Constitution of the kingdom, we held ourselves entitled and
bound to exercise and maintain the jurisdiction vested in these
judicatories with the sanction of the Constitution, notwith-
standing the decrees as to matters spiritual and ecclesiastical
of the civil courts, because we could not see that the State had
required submission thereto as a condition of the Establish-
ment; but, on the contrary, were satisfied that the State, by
the acts of the Parliament of Scotland, for ever and unalter-
ably secured to this nation by the Treaty of Union, had repu-
diated any power in the civil courts to pronounce such
decrees, we are now constrained to acknowledge it to be the
mind and will of the State, as recently declared, that such
submission" should and does form a condition of the Estab-
lishment, and of the possession of the benefits thereof ; and
that, as we cannot, without committing what we believe to
be sin,—in opposition to God’s law, in disregard of the
honour and authority of Christ’s crown, and in violation of
our own solemn vows,--comply with this condition ; we
cannot in conscience continue connected with, and retain
the benefits of, the Establishment, to which such condition
is attached.
We, therefore, the ministers and elders aforesaid, on this.
the first occasion since the rejection by the Legislature of the
Church’s Claim of Right, when the Commissioners chosen from
throughout the bounds of the Church to the General Assembly
appointed to have been this day holden, are convened together,
do protest that the conditions foresaid, while we deem them
contrary to, and subversive of, the settlement of Church gov-
ernment effected at the Revolution, and solemnly guaranteed
by the Act of Security and Treaty of Union, are also at vari~
ance with God’s Word, in opposition to the doctrines and
fundamental principles of the Church of Scotland, inconsistent
with the freedom essential to the right constitution of a Church
of Christ, and incompatible with the government which He,
as the Head of His Church, hath therein appointed distinct
from the civil magistrate.
And we further protest, that any Assembly constituted in
submission to the conditions now declared to be law, and under
the civil coercion which has been brought to bear in the elec-
tion of commissioners to the Assembly this day appointed to
have been holden, and on the commissioners chosen thereto,
is not and shall not be deemed a free and lawful Assembly of
the Church of Scotland, according to the original and funda
mental principles thereof, and that the Claim, Declaration,
and Protest, of the General Assembly which convened at
Edinburgh in May 1842, as the act of a free and lawful As~
sembly of the said Church, shall be holden as setting forth the
true constitution of the said Church ; and that the said Claim,
along with the laws of the Church now subsisting, shall in
nowise be affected by whatsoever acts and proceedings of any
Assembly constituted under the conditions now declared to be
the law, and in submission to the coercion now imposed on
the Establishment.
And, finally, while firmly asserting the right and duty of
the civil magistrate, to maintain and support an establishment
of religion in accordance with God’s Word, and reserving to
ourselves and our successors to strive by all lawful means, as
opportunity shall in God’s good providence be offered, to se-
cure the performance of this duty agreeably to the Scriptures,
and in implement of the statutes of the kingdom of Scotland,
and the obligations of the Treaty of Union, as understood by
us and our ancestors. but acknowledging that we do not hold
ourselves at liberty to retain the benefits of the Establishment
while we cannot comply with the conditions now to be deemed
thereto attached—we protest, that in the circumstances in
which we are placed, it is and shall be lawful for us and such
other commissioners chosen to the Assembly appointed to have
been this day holden, as may concur with us, to withdraw to
a separate place of meeting, for the purpose of taking steps for



APPENDIX.
727



ourselves and all who adhere to us--maintaining with us the I
Confession of Faith and Standards of the Church of Scotland,
as heretofore understood—for separating in an orderly way
from the Establishment; and thereupon adopting such mea-
sures as may be competent to us, in humble dependence on
God’s grace and the aid of the Holy Spirit, for the advance-
ment of His glory, the extension of the Gospel of our Lord
and Saviour, and the administration of the affairs of Christ’s
house, according to His holy Word; and we do now withdraw
accordingly, humbly and solemnly acknowledging the hand of
the Lord in the things which have come upon us, because of
our manifold sins, and the sins of this Church and nation;
but, at the same time. with, an assured conviction, that we
are not responsible for any consequences that may follow from
this our enforced separation from an Establishment which we
loved and prized—through interference with conscience, the
dishonour done to Christ's Crown, and the rejection of his
sole and supreme authority as King in his Church.
No. XVII.
fIer Majesty's Letter to the General A ssemblg.
VICTORIA R.
Right reverend and well-beloved ! We greet you well.
Faithful to the solemn engagement, which binds us to
maintain inviolate the PresbyterianChurch of Scotland in all
its rights and privileges, we gladly renew the assurance, that
we desire to extend to you the countenance and support which
the General Assembly has long received from our royal an-
cestors.
In other circumstances, it might have sufficed to adhere to
the forms which have been generally observed in our former
communications to you, and to express our anxious hope that
Christian charity will, as heretofore, abound among you and
restrain all animosities; but in the present state of the Church,
and adverting to the discussions which of late have so unhap-
pily disturbed its peace, we desire to address you with more
than usual earnestness and anxiety.
It behoves you to remember, that unity in the Church is
the bond of peace ; but that schism and its pernicious effects
may tend seriously to endanger that religious Establishment
from which Scotland has derived inestimable benefits.
The faith of our crown is pledged to uphold you in the full
enjoyment of every privilege which you can justly claim : but
you will bear in mind, that the rights and property of an Es-
tablished Church are conferred by law; it is by law that the
Church of Scotland is united with the State, and that her
endowments are secured ; and the ministers of religion, claim-
ing the sanction of law in defence of their privileges, are speci-
ally bound by their sacred calling to be examples of obedience.
The act ratifying the Confession of Faith, and settling
Presbyterian Church government in Scotland, was adopted at
the Union, and is now the act of the British Parliament. The
settlement thus fixed cannot be annulled by the will or decla-
ration of any number of individuals; those who are dissatisfied
with the terms of this sett-lenient, may renounce it for them-
selves; but the union of the Church of Scotland with the
State is indissoluble while the statutes remain unrepealed
which recognise the Presbyterian Church as the Church
established by law within the kingdom of Scotland.
\Ye cannot doubt, that your anxious consideration will be
given to various important matters connected with the welfare
of your Church, which require immediate adjustment.
The Act of Assembly passed in the year 1834, on the sub-
ject of calls, has come under the review of competent tribu-
nals; and various proceedings taken in pursuance of this act
have been pronounced by solemn judgments to be illegal. It
has not yet been rescinded by the Assembly; and a conflict
of authority between the law of the land and an act of the
Church, in a matter where civil rights and civil jurisdiction
are concerned, cannot be prolonged without injurious conse-
quences.
The Church of Scotland, occupying its true position in
friendly alliance with the State, is justly entitled to expect
the aid of Parliament in removing any doubts which may
have arisen with respect to the right construction of the
statutes relating to the admission of ministers. You may
safely confide in the wisdom of Parliament; and we shall
readily give our assent to any measure which the Legislature
may pass for the purpose of securing to the people the full

privilege of objection, and to the Church .ludicatories the ex-
elusive right of judgment.
There is another matter not 1088 important, the present
position of ministers in unendowed districts. The law, as
confirmed by a recent judgment, has declared that new
parishes cannot be created by the authority of the Church
alone, and that ministers placed in such districts are not en-
titled to act in Church courts.
If it shall appear that the efficiency of the Church is thereby
impaired, and that the means of extending her usefulness are
curtailed, the law to which such effects are ascribed, may "re-
quire consideration and amendment; but until it be so consid-
ered by the Legislature, and while it remains unaltered, we
are persuaded that it will be implicitly obeyed by the General
Assembly.
You will deliberate on such of these matters as fall within
your cognizance attentively and calmly; and we commend
you to the guidance of Divine Providence, praying that you
may be directed to the adoption of wise counsels, which shall
promote the permanent interests and honour of the Church,
and the religious peace and moral welfare of our people.
We have again constituted and appointed our right-trusty
and entirely beloved cousin, John Marquis of Bute, K. T.,
to be the representative of our royal person in this Assembly.
And we are certain that his prudence and approved merits,
and his tried attachment to the Church of Scotland, will
render him acceptable to you in the execution of the duties
of his high office.
He possesses our full authority for the exercise of our royal
prerogative in all matters relating to the present Assembly,
in which, in obedience to our instructions to him, he may be
called upon to act for us on our behalf.
\Ve implore the blessing of God on your deliberations,
trusting that He will overrule all events for the good of his
Church, and for the spiritual welfare of the people committed
to your charge: and we feel assured that divine grace will
not be withdrawn from the labours of the ministers of the
Church established in this part of the United Kingdom.
And so we bid you heartily farewell.
Given at our Court at St J ames’s, the 15th day of May,
1843, in the sixth year of our reign.
By her Majesty’s command,
(Signed) JAMES GRAHAM.
No. XVIII.
Act of Separation and Deed of Demission.
The ministers and elders subscribing the Protest made on
Thursday, the eighteenth of this instant May, at the meeting
of the commissioners chosen to the General Assembly, ap-
pointed to have been that day holden, against the freedom
and lawfulness of any Assembly which might then be consti-
tuted, and against the subversion recently effected in the con-
stitution of the Church of Scotland, together with the minister s
and elders adhering to the said Protest, in this their General
Assembly convened, did, in prosecution of the said Protest,
and of the Claim of Right adopted by the General Assembly,
which met at Edinburgh in May eighteen hundred and forty-
two years, and on the grounds therein set forth, and hereby
do, for themselves and all who adhere to them, separate from
and abandon the present subsisting Ecclesiastical Establish-
ment in Scotland, and did, and hereby do, abdicate and re-
nounce the status and privileges derived to them, or any of
them, as parochial ministers or elders, from the said Estab-
lishment, through its connexion with the State, and all rights
and emoluments pertaining to them, or any of them, by virtue
hereof: Declaring that they hereby in no degree abandon
or impair the rights belonging to them as ministers of
Christ's gospel, and pastors and elders of particular congre-
gations, to perform freely and fully the functions of their
offices towards their respective congregations, or such portions
thereof as may adhere to them; and that they are and shall
be free to exercise government and discipline in their several
judicatories, separate from the Establishment, according to
God's \\’0rd, and the constitution and Standards of the
Church of Scotland, as heretofore understood; and that
henceforth they are not, and shall not, be sub'ect in any
respect to the ecclesiastical judicatories established in Scot-
land by law; reserving always the rights and benefits accru-




728
APPENDIX.




ing to them, or any of them, under the provisions of the
statutes respecting the Ministers’ Widows’ Fund : And
further, Declaring, that this present act shall noways be held
as a renunciation on the part of such of the ministers foresaid,
as are Ministers of Churches built by private contribution, and
not provided or endowed by the State, of any rights which
may be found to belong to them, or their congregations, in
regard to the same, by virtue of the intentions and destination
of the contributors to the erection of the said churches, or
otherwise according to law; all which are fully reserved to
the Ministers foresaid and their congregations :—And further,
the said Ministers and Elders in this their General Assembly
convened, while they refuse to acknowledge the supreme
ecclesiastical judicatory established by law in Scotland, and
now holding its sittings in Edinburgh, to be a free Assembly
of the Church of Scotland, or a lawful Assembly of the said
Church, according to the true and original constitution thereof,
and disclaim its authority as to matters spiritual. yet in respect
of the recognition given to it by the State, and the powers,
in consequence of such recognition, belonging to it, with
reference to the temporalities of the Establishment, and the
Rights derived thereto from the State, hereby appoint a dupli-
cate of this act to be subscribed by their Moderator, and also
by the several Ministers, members of this Assembly, now
present in Edinburgh, for their individual interests, to be
transmitted to the clerk of the said ecclesiastical judicatory
by law established, for the purpose of certiorating them, that
the benefices held by such of the said ministers, or others
adhering to this Assembly, as were incumbents of benefices,
George Muirhead, Minister at Cramond
John Bruce, Minister at Edinburgh.
Wm. Simpson. Minister at Edinburgh.
Geo. R. Davidson, Minister at Edinburgh.
Thomas Addis, Minister at Morningside, Edinburgh.
John Sym, Minister at Edinburgh.
James Buchanan, Minister at Edinburgh.
James Manson, Minister at Dean, Edinburgh.
Thomas Chalmers, Professor of Divinity, Edinburgh.
Rob. S. Candlish, Minister at St George‘s, Edinburgh.
Wm. K. Tweedie, Minister at Edinburgh.
John Thomson, Minister at Leith.
James Begg, Minister at Liberton.
And. M‘Kenzie. Minister at Edinburgh. [Edinburgh
David Welsh, Professor of Divinity, and Church History,
Samuel Martin, Minister at Bathgate.
John Laing. Minister at Livingstone.
James Proudfoot, Minister at Culter.
Walter Paterson, Minister at Kirkurd.
Thomas Pitcairn, Minister at Cockpen.
Robert Cowet, Minister at Heriot.
Selby Ord Dods, Minister at Garvald.
Arch. Lorimer, Minister at Cockenzie.
John Ainslie, Minister at Dirleton.
John W. Wright, Minister at Haddington.
James Dodds. Minister at Humbie.
Andrew Baird, Minister at Cockburnspatlt.
Adam Forman, Minister at Innerwick,
Archd. M‘Conechy, Minister at Bunkle and Preston.
John Baillie, Minister at F ogo.
John Fairbairn, Minister at W est Church, Greenlaw.
John Turnbull, Minister at Eyemouth.
Horatius Bonar, Minister at Kelso.
\Valter Wood, Minister at \Vestruther.
John Edmonston. Minister at Ashkirk.
William Brown Clark, Minister at Half Morton.
John R. MacKenzie, Minister at Dumfries.
Robt. Brydon, Minister at Dunscore.
Rob. Kinnear, Minister at Torthorwald.
Thomas Hastings, Minister at Wanlockhead.
A. Urquhart, Minister at Portpatrick.
Rob. Jeffrey, Minister at Girthon.
E, B, Wallace, Minister at Barr.
Andrew Thomson, Minister at M aybole.
Matthew Kirkland, Minister at New Cumnock.
William Grant, Minister at \Vallacetown.
David Landsborough, Minister at Stevenston.
David Arthur, Minister at Stewarton.
Matthew Dickie, Minister at Dunlop.
Peter Campbell, Minister at Kilmarnock.
John Macnaughtan, Minister at Paisley.
Alexi‘. Salmon, Minister at Barrhead.

are now vacant; and the said parties consent that the said
benefices shall be dealt with as such. And they authorise
the Rev. Thomas Pitcairn and the Rev. Patrick Clasou, con-
junct Clerks to this their General Assembly, to subscribe the
joinings of the several sheets hereof, and they consent to the
registration hereof in the Books of Council and Session, or
others competent, therein to remain for preservation ; and for
that purpose constitute
their procurators,
&c. In testimony whereof, these presents, written upon
stamped paper by \Villiam Petrie Couper, clerk to James
Crawford. junior, writer to the Signet, are, with a duplicate
thereof, subscribed by the whole parties in General Meeting
assembled, and the joinings of the several sheets, by the saids
Rev. Thomas Pitcairn and Rev. Patrick Clason, as authorised
as aforesaid,—all at Edinburgh, the twenty-third day of May,
one thousand eight hundred and forty-three years, before these
witnesses,—Mr John Hamilton, advocate; \Villiam Fraser,
writer to the Signet; John Hunter, junior, writer to the
Signet; and the Rev. John J affray, preacher of the Gospel,
and secretary to the Provisional Committee, Edinburgh.
THOMAS CHALMERS, Moderator.
J. HAMILTON, Witness
\YM FRASER, li'iz‘ness
JOHN HUNTER, JUN. Witness.
JOHN Jxrrnu', Witness.
William Nisbet, Minister at Edinburgh.
Patrick Clason, Minister at Edinburgh.
Alexander W. Brown, Minister at Edinburgh.
Robert Elder, Minister at Edinburgh.
Henry Grey, Minister at Edinburgh.
Robert Gordon, Minister at Edinburgh.
James Noble, Minister at Edinburgh.
Alexander Gregory, Minister at Edinburgh.
Thomas Guthrie, Minister at Edinburgh.
Chas. W. Brown, Minister at Edinburgh
\Vm. Cunningham, Minister at Edinburgh.
James Lewis, Minister at Leith.
James Fairbairn, Minister at N ewhaven.
Walter Fairlir; Minister at Gilmerton.
Lewis H. Irving, Minister at Abercorn.
Thomas Gordon, Minister at Falkirk.
William M. Hetherington, Minister at Torphichen.
William Hanna, Minister at Skirling.
George Burns, Minister at Tweedsmuir.
David Brown, Minister at Roslin.
James Bannerman, Minister at Ormiston.
Angus Mackellar, Minister at Pencaitland.
Patrick Fairbairn, Minister at Salton.
W. Bruce Cunningham, Minister at Prestonpaus.
John Thomson, Minister at Yester.
William Sorley, Minister at Belhaven.
John Thomson, Minister at Prestonkirk.
David T horburn, Minister at South Leith.
John \Vallace, Minister at Abbey St Bathans,
William Cousin, Minister at Boston Church, Dunse.
George Fulton Knight, Minister at Mordington.
George Craig, Minister at Sprouston.
John Purves, Minister at J edburgh.
Thomas Jolly, Minister at Bowden.
Henry Duncan, Minister at Ruthwell.
George Hastie, Minister at Kirkpatrick Fleming.
Rob. Crawford, Minister at Irongray.
George J. Duncan, Minister at Kirkpatrick Durham.
Patrick Borrowman, Minister at Glencairn.
Thomas B. Bell, Minister at Leswalt.
Alexr. Forrester, Minister at Sorbie.
Thomas Burns, Minister at Monkton.
Ninian Bannatyne, Minister at Old Cumnock.
James Stevenson, Minister at Newton upon Ayr.
John Spiers, Minister at Patna, Ayr,
George Orr, Minister at Symington.
Thomas Finlay, Minister at West Kilbride.
Thomas Main, Minister at Kilmarnock.
Neil Brodie, Minister at Kilmarnock.
John Hamilton, Minister at Saltcoats.
Duncan Macfarlane, Minister at Renfrew.
Robert Smith, Minister at Lochwinnoch.




APPENDIX.
729


Peter Henderson, Minister at Paisley.
Patrick M‘Farlan, Minister at Greenock.
J n. J s. Bonar, Minister at Greenock.
James Stark, Minister at Greenock.
James Drummond, Minister at Cumbray.
John Dow, Minister at Largs.
Wm. Laughton, Minister at Greenock.
James Anderson, Minister at Blantyre.
Alexander Rankin, Minister at Strathaven.
James Finlay, Minister at Airdrie.
Thomas Stark, Minister at Lanark.
John Pollock, Minister at Baldernock.
Andrew King, Minister at Glasgow.
Thomas Duncan, Minister at Kirkintilloch.
\Valter M‘Gilvray, Minister at Glasgow.
John Smyth, Minister at Glasgow.
Robert Buchanan, Minister at Glasgow.
John Forbes, Minister at Glasgow.
James Henderson, Minister at Glasgow.
Alexander N. Somerville, Minister at Anderston, Glasgow.
\Vm. Burns, Minister at Kilsyth.
Peter Currie, Minister at Glasgow.
John Lyon, Minister at Banton, Kilsyth.
Michl. \Villis, Minister at Glasgow.
James Mackinlay, Minister at Glasgow.
James Munro, Minister at West Rutherglen.
William Chalmers, Minister at Dailly.
James Mackenzie, Minister at Dalbeattie.
Alexander MacBride, Minister at North Bute.
H. Mackay, Minister at Dunoon and Kilmun.
James Pearson, Minister at Kilmenny.
Wm. Fraser, Minister at Killchrenan and Dalavich.
John \Vaddell, Minister at Burrelton.
Francis Gillies, Minister at Rattray.
William Grant, Minister at Finandry.
John W. Thomson, Minister at Moneydie.
John Young Walker, Minister at Perth.
John Milne, Minister at Perth.
James Thomson, Minister at Muckart.
J. R. Omond, Minister at Monzie.
John Wright, Minister at Alloa.
John Bonar, Minister at Tarbert and Dunipace.
Wm. Stewart, Minister at Perth.
James M‘Lagan, Minister at Kinfauns.
\Villiam Watt, Minister at Buchlyvie.
David Black, Minister at Gartmore.
\Villiam Gilston, Minister at Carnock.
Wm. Wallace Duncan, Minister at Cleish.
Alex. Laird, Minister, at Abbotshall.
Charles Jameson, Minister at Pathhead.
James Sieveright, Minister at Markinch.
And. Melville, Minister at Logie.
Angus M. M‘Gillivray, Minister at Dairsie.
William Nicolson, Minister at Ferry Port on Craig.
David YVhite, Minister at Airlie.
D. Ferguson, Minister at Dunnichen.
D. B. Mellis, Minister at Tealing.
\Villiam Reid, Minister at Dundee.
Robert Aitken, Minister at Dundee.
Patrick L. Miller, Minister at Dundee.
\Villiam “Yilson, Minister at Carmylie.
Alexr. Leslie, Minister at Arbroath.
John Laird, Minister at Inverkeilor.
James Brodie, Minister at Monimail.
Thomas Dymock, Minister at Carnoustie.
Thomas Brown, Minister at Kinnefl'.
Robert Forbes, Minister at \Voodside.
Alexander Davidson. Minister at Aberdeen.
Robert Thomson, Minister at Peterculter.
James Stewart, Minister at Aberdeen.
W'illiam Anderson, Minister at Banchory Ternan.
J ames M‘Gowan, Minister at Bankhead.
Farquhar M‘Rae, Minister at Braemar
James Yuill, Minister at Peterhead.
Geo. Garioch, Minister at Meldrum.
David Simson, Minister at Oyne.
George Innes, Minister at Deskford.
James Foote, Minister at Aberdeen.
Robert Shanks, Minister at Buckie.
A. T ulloch, Minister at Kirkmichael.
Mark Aitken, Minister at Dyke.
Alexander Gentle, Minister at Alves.

John Campbell, Minister at Paisley.
James Smith, Minister at Greenock.
Donald MacLeod, Minister at Gourock.
John Gemmel. Minister at Fairlie.
Angus M‘Bean, Minister at Greenock.
Robert \Valter Stewart, Minister at Erskine.
J as. Morison, Minister at Port-Glasgow.
James Clason, Minister at Dalziel.
David Paton, Minister at Chapelton.
Robert Stirrat, Minister at Airdrie.
A. B. Parker, Minister at Lesmahagow.
James Smith, Minister at Dumbarton.
James Gibson, Minister at Glasgow.
John Cochrane, Minister at Cumbernauld.
John Thomson, Minister at Shettleston.
James Macbeth, Minister at Glasgow.
Thos. Brown, Minister at Glasgow.
\Villiam Arnot, Minister at Glasgow.
John G. Lorimer, Minister at Glasgow.
Jon. R. Anderson, Minister at Glasgow.
David Menzies, Minister at Glasgow.
Alex. S. Patterson, Minister at Glasgow.
N athl- Paterson, Minister at Glasgow.
Alexr. Wilson, Minister at Glasgow.
Hugh Mackay, Minister at Glasgow.
WV. S. Hay, Minister at Bridge of Weir.
John Mackenzie, Minister at Dunkeld.
Peter M‘Bride, Minister at New Parish, Rothsay.
Hector M‘Neil, Minister at Campbeltown.
Alexander Cameron, Minister at Kilchoman.
Hugh Fraser, Minister at Ardchattan.
Michael Stirling, Minister at Cargill.
Andrew Kessen, Minister at Lethendy and kinloch.
George Millar, Minister at Clunie, Dunkeld.
James Grierson, Minister at Errol.
James Drummond, Minister at Forgandcnny.
Andrew A. Bonar, Minister at Collace.
Alexr. Cumming, Minister at Dunbarny.
Finlay Macalister, Minister at Crieii.
Alex. Beith, Minister at Stirling.
John Dempster, Minister at Denny.
William Mackray, Minister at Stirling.
Alexander Leitch, Minister at Stirling.
James Duncan, Minister at East Kincardine.
Thomas Hislop, Minister at Doune.
James Thornton, Minister at Milnathort.
Charles Marshall, Minister at N 0. Church, Dunfermline.
David Couper, Minister at Burntisland.
John Thomson, Minister at Dysart.
Robert M‘Indoe, Minister at Kirkaldy.
John Isdale, Minister at Invertiel.
Adam Cairns, Minister at Cupar-Fife.
George Smeaton, Minister at Falkland.
William Ferrie, Minister at Anstruther Easter.
Will. Clugston, Minister at Forfar.
Daniel Cormick, Minister at Kirriemuir.
James Ewing, Minister at Dundee.
Samuel Miller, Minister at Monifeith.
James Miller. Minister at Monikie.
William Nixon, Minister at Montrose.
James Lumsden, Minister at Barry.
Robert Inglis, Minister at Edzell.
Tho. \Vilson, Minister at Friockheim.
John Murray, Minister at Dunbog.
John Montgomery, Minister at Arbroath.
John Roxburgh, Minister at Dundee.
James Bruce, Minister at Gilcomston.
Alex. Spence, Minister at St Clements, Aberdeen.
George Moir, Minister at New Machar.
William Primrose, Minister at Aberdeen.
David Scott Ferguson, Minister at Strachan.
Donald Stewart, Minister at Glengairn.
Alexander Philip, Minister at Cruden.
R. Simpson, Minister at Kintore.
Henry Simson, Minister at Chapel of Garioch.
\Villiam Garden Blackie, Minister at Drumblade.
Fran. Grant, Minister at Banfi'.
Alex. Anderson. Minister at Boindie.
David Dewar, Minister at Bellie
Duncan Grant, Minister at Forres.
Alexander Topp, Minister at Elgin.
William Barclay, Minister at Auldearn.

42
730
APPENDIX.

Archd. Cook, Minister at Inverness.
John MacRae, Minister at Knockbain.
George M‘Leod, Minister at Maryburgh.
Alexander Anderson. Minister at Keanlochluichart.
Hugh M‘Leod, Minister at Logie Easter.
Donald Gordon. Minister at Edderton.
Charles Calder Mackintosh, Minister at Tain-
Cha. Gordon. Minister at Assynt.
Peter Davidson. Minister at Stoer.
David Mackenzie, Minister at Farr.
“'illiam Mackenzie, Minister at Tongue.
W'. Ross Taylor. Minister at Thurso.
George Davidson, Minister at Latheron.
Thomas Gun, Minister at Keiss.
Don. M‘Rae, Minister at Poolewe-
John M‘Millan, Minister at Balcullish.
\Villiam Lauder, Minister at Glengarry.
Rodk. M‘Leod, Minister at Snizort, Skye.
John Swanson. Minister at Small Isles.
John Finlayson, Minister at Cross Lewis.
Robert Finlayson, Minister at Lochs.
Peter Petrie, Minister at Kirkwall and St Ola.
\Nm. Malcolm, Minister at Firth and Stenness
Alexander Stark, Minister at Sandwich, Zetland.
John Elder, Minister at \Valls, Shetland.
\Villiam P. Falconer, Minister at Ladhope.
Wm. Buchan. Minister at Hamilton.
\Villiam Jackson. Minister at Airdrie.
John Anderson, Minister at Helensburgh.
Duncan Maclean, Minister at Kilmedan.
Finlay Macpherson, Minister at Kilbrandon.
Archd. Bannatyne, Minister at Oban.
Charles C. Stewart. Minister at Aberdalgie.
\V. A. Thomson, Minister at Perth.
John Harper, Minister at Bannockburn-
James Carment. Minister at Comrie
Thomas Doig, Minister at Torryburn.
J n. Macfarlane, Minister at Collesie.
Robert Brown. Minister at Largo.
Geo. Lewis, Minister at Dundee.
John Kirk, Minister at Arbirlot.
James Brewster, Minister at Craig.
James Falconer, Minister at Paisley.
David Simpson, Minister at Aberdeen.
William Mitchell, Minister at Aberdeen.
Abercromby L. Gordon, Minister at Aberdeen.
Hugh Gordon. Minister at Monquhitter.
Alexr. Reid. Minister at Portsoy.
David Campbell, Minister at T arbet.
John Robertson, Minister at Gartly.
Geo. Shepherd, Minister at Kingussie.
Alexr. Flyter, Minister at Alness.
J. M‘Kenzie, Minister at Carnoch.
Thos. M‘Lauchlan. Minister at Moy-
Colin M‘Kenzie, Minister at Shieldag.
George Mackay, Minister at Rafford-
Andrew Noble. Minister at Blairingone.
R. J. Brown, Minister at Aberdeen.
T. Somerville, D.D. Minister at Drumelzier.

John Matthison, Minister at Ardersier.
Donald Kennedy, Minister at Killearnan.
John M‘Donald, Minister at Urquhart.
John Macalister, Minister at N igg, Ross-shire.
C. R. Mattheson, Minister at Kilmuir Easter.
Hector Allan, Minister at Kincardine, Ross-shire,
(1‘ ustavus Aird, Minister at Creich.
George R. Kennedy, Minister at Dornoch.
Geo. Tulloch, Minister at Eddrachilles.
II. M. K. Mackenzie, Minister at Tongue.
\Vm. F indlater, Minister at Durness.
Finlay Cook, Minister at Reay.
John Munro, Minister at Ilalkirk.
Samuel Campbell, Minister at Berridale.
George Corbett, Minister at Glenelg.
Thomas Davidson, Minister at Kilmallie.
Cha. Stewart Minister at Fort-\Villiam.
John R. Glass, Minister at Bracadale.
Norm. M‘Leod, Minister at Trumisgarry.
Duncan Mattheson, Minister at Knock Lewis.
Adam Rettie, Minister at Evie and Rendalt.
Peter Learmouth, Minister at Stromness.
Adam White, Minister at North Ronaldsay.
James Gardener, Minister at Quarff.
John Ingram, Minister at Unst.
J. A. Wallace, Minister at Hawick.
William Logan, Minister at Lesmahagow.
John M‘Pherson, Minister at Rothesay.
Joseph Stark, Minister at Kiltinan.
Robert Craig. Minister at Rothesay.
John Glen, Minister at Portobello.
Donald M‘Vean, Minister at Iona.
\Vm. Mather, Minister at Stanley.
Andrew Gray, Minister at Perth.
George Cupples, Minister at Stirling.
\V. Mackenzie, Minister at Dunblane.
John Alexander, Minister at Kirkaldy.
Charles N airn, Minister at Forgan.
Robert M acdonald, Minister at Blairgowrie.
Alex. L. R. Foote, Minister at Brechin.
David Crichton, Minister at Inverbrothoc, Arbroath.
Alex. Keith, Minister at St Cyrus.
Alex. Keith, jun. Minister at St Cyrus.
John Murray, Minister at Aberdeen.
John Longmuir, Minister at Aberdeen.
Joseph Thorburn, Minister at Forglen.
David Brown, Minister at 0rd.
Alex. Stewart, Minister at Cromarty.
James Macdonald, Minister at Urray.
David Hany, Minister at Aberchirder.
William Robertson, Minister at Kinloss.
Alexander Fraser, Minister at Kirkhill.
Mungo J. Parker, Minister at Brechin.
David Sutherland, Minister at Inverness.
James M‘Cosh, Minister at Brechin.
A. Sutherland, Minister at Dunfermline.
Alexr. Macpherson, Minister at Dundee.
Charles Watson. Minister at Edinburgh.
John Duncan, Minister at Ceres.



APPENDIX.
731


No. XIX.
Abridged Proceedings cf the First General Assembty (f the
Free Church of Scotland, convened in the Canonmz'tls
Hall, on Thursday 18th ZVIay, 1843, immediately after
the Protest (see p. 725,) had been read by Dr Welsh, and
on the secession of those who adhered to it.
DR. \VELSH, havingtaken the chair, opened the proceedings
by a very suitable and solemnizing prayer; after which, Dr
Chalmers, having been elected Moderator, gave out the 63d
Psalm, from the third verse, which the whole Assembly sung
standing.
The .MODERATOR then addressed the Assembly as follows :
~—Reverend Fathers and Brethren—It has been proposed
that the business of this Assembly shall be commenced by
an address, which I shall make as brief as possible, from him
whom you have honoured by investing with this important
station, which I now hold. At the termination of the few
remarks which I shall deliver, I shall request that the docu-
ment which many of you heard read in another place, may
be again read for the benefit of all present.—I mean the Pro-
test which was read in the hearing of the Assembly of the
Established Church, and which will form the basis, both of this
day’s movement. and of the other courses of procedure which
now lie before us. I should like, before I begin the form of-a
special address to my fathers and brethren now present, to
occupy about the fifth part of the time that will be occupied
by reading the Address, in order that you may have an outset,
as it were, of the principles which we have adopted in our
proceedings of this day. The time has now gone by for
lengthened argumentation, either on the one side or the other,
of the Church question. That is over ; and it is now followed
by a busy season of doings more than of sayings, which leave
room for little else than a few brief sentences expressive of
the grounds on which we act,——not of the reasons by which
these actions might be vindicated. 1. It is clear that, anterior
to her connexion with the State, the Church had a government
of her own, acting in her own proper sphere, with certain
inherent liberties which, save by reason of persecution, were
not violated. 2. That when the Church entered into con-
nexion with the State. she gave up no part of her liberties;
it was her inalienable birthright, with which she would
not part. The Church willingly gave her service, but her
liberties were not hers to give; it was not only her privilege,
but her bounden duty to hold them fast. 3. The ancestors
of the Church of Scotland, true to their principles, did not
give up their Christian liberty when they entered into con-
nexion with the State. They maintained these in circum-
stances of controversy, and of cruel persecution, for a whole
century They were bound to the sacred cause by a gener—
ous devotion; and so they kept alive, in the worst of times,
their liberties and privileges, till the treaty of the Revolution
Settlement, when what the Church deemed her charter was
consented to by the State, as her constitutional liberties. 4.
That a free and separate government in things ecclesiastical
was guaranteed to the Church, which has subsisted for nearly
a century and a half without molestation on the part of the
civil courts ; nor during the whole of that period, till within
these last few years, did she suffer any inroad or violence at
their hands; so that it may be averred, with all safety, that
there was not a man who even once dreamed of such con-
cussions as have recently been practised, as in the least
degree likely, or even possible. 5. That the first breach
which has been effected in the rightful privileges of the Church,
has been founded on an interpretation of the Act of Queen
Anne, passed in the year 1712, anent the restoration of
patronage, by which interpretation the discovery has been
elicited for the first time,--for a discovery it may well be
termed by all the parties in this controversy—of a contrariety
or conflict which was never before suspected to exist between
that statute of Queen Anne, and those prior statutes which
were enacted or confirmed by the Revolution Settlement; and
though these were never referred to by the law Lords in
their last adverse decision by the House of Peers, in the case
of Auchterarder. they were regarded and appealed to by the
Assembly in the Claim of Rights, as forming the charter of
the constitutional liberties of the Church of Scotland 6 In
these circumstances the Church appealed to Parliament. rest-
ing her ground on the hitherto unviolated construction of the
law; and pointing to the latent discref ancy that had now

l
been evolved, for the first time, between the posterior act of
the Legislature and those prior deeds which were guaranteed
at the Revolution, and by the Treaty of Union between the
two kingdoms. 7. And lastly, to conclude this brief synopsis
of a subject, which is much better treated and more expanded
in the document which you are about to hear, our application
was rejected, and the Legislature declined'to remedy the
evil which had hitherto lain dormant, and unobserved, during
130 years.
We now make a higher appeal, from our constitution
which has been disregarded, to our conscience, which tells us
that the ecclesiastical ought not to be subjected to the civil
power in things spiritual. \Ve are therefore compelled,
though with great reluctance and deep sorrow of heart, to
quit the advantages of the British Establishment, because
she has fallen from her original principles, in the hope that
we shall he suffered to prosecute our labours in peace on the
ground of British toleration. These are the principles
that have occasioned the movements of this day, and brought
us together on the present occasion. And now. reverend
fathers and brethren, it is well that you should have been
strengthened by your Master in Heaven to make the sur~
render you have done of every thing that is dear to nature ;
— casting aside all your earthly dependence rather than offend
conscience, incur the guilt of sinful compliance by thwarting
your own sense of duty, and running counter to the Bible, our
Great Church Directory and Statute Book. It is well that
you have made, for the present, a clean escape from this con-
demnation—and that in the issue of the contest between a
sacrifice of principle, and a sacrifice of your worldly posses-
sions, you have resolved upon the latter; and while to the
eye of sense you are without a provision and a home, em~ '
barked on a wide ocean of uncertainty, save that great and
generous certainty which is apprehended by the eye of faith,
that God reigneth, and that he will not forsake the families
of the faithful. \Ve read in the Scriptures,—and I believe it
will he often found true in the history and experience of
God’s people,—-that there is a certain light, and joyfulness, and
elevation of spirit, consequent upon a moral achievement
such as this. There is a certain felt triumph, like that of
victory after a conflict, attending upon a practical vindication
which conscience has made of her own supremacy, when she
has been plied by many and strong temptations to degrade or
to dethrone her. Apart from Christianity altogether, there
has been realized a joyfulness of heart, a proud swelling of
conscious integrity, when a conquest has been effected by the
higher over the inferior powers of our nature; and so among
Christians too there is a legitimate glorying, as when the
disciples of old gloried in the midst of their tribulations, and
when the Spirit of glory and of God rested on them, they
were made partakers of the Divine nature, and escaped the
corruption that is in the world; or as when the Apostle Paul
rejoiced in the testimony of his conscience. But let us not
forget in the midst of this rejoicing the deep humility that
pervaded their songs of exultation ; the trembling which
these holy men mixed with their mirth; trembling arising
from a sense of their own weakness; and their courage in-
spired by the thought of that aid and strength which was to
be obtained out of His fulness, who formed all their boasting
and all their defence. Never in the history of our Church
were such feelings and such acknowledgments more called
for than now; and in the transition we are making, it be-
comes us to reflect on such sentiments as these,-—-“ not me,
but the grace of God in me,”—and “' let him that thinketh
he standeth take heed lest he fall.”
By giving up your connexion with the State, and thus
separating yourselves from the worldly advantage of such a
connexion, you may be said to have withstood a great temp-
tation—temptation to sin in one form ; but such is the deceit-
fulness of the human heart, that, without the heedfulness and
the humility which the apostles of old so pressed upon the
early converts, there is danger of being carried away by
temptation in another form, and temptation too to the very
same sin. Rather than be seduced from one of your greatest
principles, you have given up one earthly dependence; but
let principle have its perfect work, and have a care lest you
be tempted from even the least of your principles by the
promises or the allurements of another earthly dependence.
Rather than compromise the authority of Christ over the
affairs of his own Church, you have forfeited the countenance
of men in power-that is, who have the power of this world's
authority on their side. Beware of compromising another



732
APPENDIX.





of your doctrines or articles of faith—and in the defence of
which the Church of Scotland did lately signalize herself,
even the authority of Christ over the kings and governments
of earth, and the counterpart duty of these governments to
uphold religion in the world,—beware, we say. of making
any compromise or surrender of this your other principle,—
and this, too, to gain the countenance of those who may still be
called men in power—that is, who, if they have not the power
of authority and office, have at least the power of numbers
on their side. This may be termed a less principle than the
other—of inferior consideration in itself, and inferior conse-
quence to the vital or spiritual well-being of Christ’s Church
upon earth. But let us not forget what the Bible says of
those who break even the least of the commandments, that
they shall be called the least in the kingdom of Heaven.
The men who stand opposed to us on this second, or, as
many choose to term it, this secondary question, might, with
all the “ hay, and stubble, and wood” of this, and, it may be,
of other errors, be reposing on the like precious foundation
with ourselves. They might be men with whom we differ,
and yet with whom we can agree to differ. They might be
coadjutors in the great work of evangelizing the people of our
land—brethren with whom we can hold sweet and profitable
counsel on the capita fidei, or weightier matters of the law ;
having “ one faith, and one Lord, and one baptism.” But
we shall not even for their friendship, violate the entireness
of our principles, or make surrender of the very least of them.
It is not for those ministers of Christ, whom I am now address-
ing, and who on the altar of principle have just laid down their
all—thus quitting, and for the sake of one principle, the friend-
ship of men who have the power of office; it is not for them to
' give up another principle for the sake of the friendship of
other men who may be also said to have power—the power of
numbers. We must not thus transfer ourselves from one
earthly dependence to another. We have no other depen-
dence than God. “Te acknowledge the authority, and will
submit to the influence of no other guide than the eternal
and unalterable truth, as seen in the light of our own con-
sciences.
To be more plain, let me be more particular. The Volun-
taries mistake us, if they conceive us to be Voluntaries. \Ve
hold by the duty of Government to give of their resources
and their means for the maintenance of a gospel ministry in
the land; and we pray that their eyes may be opened, so
that they may learn hoW to acquit themselves as the protec-
tors of the Church, and not as its corruptors or its tyrants.
\Ve pray that the sin of Uzziah, into which they have fallen,
may be forgiven them, and that those days of light and
blessedness may speedily arrive, when “ kings shall be the
nursing-fathers, and queens the nursing-m others” of our Zion.
In a word, we hold that every part and every function of a
commonwealth should be leavened with Christianity, and
that every functionary, from the highest to the lowest,
should, in their respective spheres, do all that in them lies to
countenance and uphold it; that is to say, though we quit
the Establishment, we go out on the Establishment principle
-we quit a vitiated Establishment, but would rejoice in
returning toa pure one. To express it otherwise—we are
the advocates for a national recognition and national support
of religion—and we are not Voluntaries.
Again, if we thus openly proclaim our differences with men
who, under the guise of principle—and of this principle we
question not the honesty—refuse in the affairs of the Church
to have any participation with the Government—still more
resolutely do we disclaim all fellowship with men who. under
the guise of direct and declared opposition. lift a menacing
front against “the powers that be ;” or, disdaining govern-
ment, and impatient of restraint, manifest a spirit of conten-
tion and defiance. If we refuse to coalesce with one—and
that a powerful body—on the question of ecclesiastical polity,
still less would we seek to strengthen ourselves by amalga-
mating with another body of contentious and violent worldly
politicians; and, least of all, with men whose element is con-
fusion, and who delight in the wild war of turbulence and
disorder. It may seem strange that I should deem it neces-
sary to raise this warning in the hearing of Christian ministers
and friends, calling upon them to repudiate lawless and re—
volutionary men—men who speak evil of dignities, and who
are given to change , ‘mt it is because you have been so
much misrepresented and misunderstood, I know well that
it is not necessary to warn you, but it is necessary to bear
this testimony in the hearing of the world; for many there

be who mistake and misconceive you, even as the apostles of
old were charged with attempting to turn the world upside
down. There can be no common understanding; for there is
no common object between you and the lovers of mischief.
The lessons which you inculcate are all on the side of peace
and social order. You will not strengthen your enemies—
the high aristocracy of the land—by walking in concert with
men who are intent upon anarchy, and who seek the destruc-
tion of one institute as a means for destroying all the revered
institutes of the land. You have no sympathy with such
men, and you can hold no copartnery with them; but in the
high walk of Christian principle, turning neither to the right
hand nor to the left, you will keep the even tenor of your
way. Why do I find you in this place P Because you have
chosen to obey God rather than man—God, who is the author
not of confusion but of order, both in the Church and in
society. If your enemies will but have the wisdom to let
you alone, and the mists of prejudice and misconception were
but once cleared away, they will recognise in you the best
conservators of peace and social order in the commonwealth.
Now that the breakwater has been removed—and removed
by those more immediately interested in keeping it up—in
the disruption of the Established Church, which was strong
in the affections, and firmly based in the confidence of the
people, you at least, the expounders and the heralds of the
gospel, will do nothing to aggravate, but everything to stay
the effect of those evils ; and if on the flag of your truly free
and constitutional Church you are willing to inscribe that
you are no Voluntaries, then still more there will be an utter
absence of sympathy on your part with the demagogue and
agitator of the day—so that in golden characters may be seen
and read of all men this other inscription, that you are no
anarchists.
So much for your relations to those that are without.
Let us turn now to those that are within—to our people, and
to those who adhere to the principles for which we contend
in the Free Presbyterian Church, which we this day in-
stitute in these lands. We know the taunts of those who
speak reproachfully, that though the word, “ F ree," is em—
blazoned on the title of our Church, we shall find it an
empty name—that instead of being subject to the restraints
of lawful authority, we shall have the more galling and more
intolerable tyranny of a multitude—as if there was no pos-
sible way of holding steadfast truth and principle in opposi—
tion to both—as if there was no possibility of being guided
by Scripture and common sense to refuse all sinful, and, let
me add, senseless compliances with either. None will deny
that the first teachers of Christianity cleared their way in-
dependently on all hands. They had, indeed, the voice of
inspiration; and why may not we do the same, who walk by
no light, and submit to no authority in spiritual things, but
the light and authority of that enduring book, the Bible—
the common statute-book for both ministers and people.
Certain it is that the apostles, who said they would obey
God rather than man, carried this principle into effect
whether the men were many or few; and so at one time we
find them in favour with all the people, become in many in-
stances the objects of popular dislike and violence. Many
alternative fits and fluctuations did they weather; now borne
along by a smooth and a prosperous flood, and at another
time .bufi‘eting the severest adversity of the elements. ‘We
must not be carried away by an overweening imagination
that we are to be exempted from their trials, or that we can
face their difficulties better than they did. The disciple is
not above his Master; nor must we think that a strange thing
has happened unto us, should we be cast upon a new evolu-
tion of the principle of opposition; for the world that hated
Him must hate us also. There has been no repeal yet, so far as
we know, of what may be called the standing law of Christ’s
house, that “all who will live godly in Christ Jesus must
sufl'er persecution ;” and now when, in the lights offered by
Providence and prophecy, many are looking to the setting up
of a purer Church on the earth. let us not forget that apos-
tolic suffering went along with the planting of apostolic
churches, and the diffusion of Christianity in apostolic times.
Let us arm ourselves with the same mind; and, fresh from
the sacrifice we have already made, rather than surrender the
powers of our oflice, let us be prepared to make like sacri-
fices in other quarters—the loss of popularity and good will.
But let us persevere in administering the affairs of the
Church without fear and without flattery—not fearing men,
but God. The reverend Doctor then referred to various


APPENDIX.
733





passages in the New Testament, illustrative of the authority
exercised by the apostles, and concluded an impassioned
address, by imploring all present, both mmlsters and people,
to be much in prayer for God’s blessing upon their under-
taking.
Mr Pitcairn read the Protest which had been laid on
the table of the other Assembly, with the names thereto
attached.
Dr Candlish said the number who had signed that Pro-
test were a majority of those whom they could recognise as
the alone lawful members of Assembly; and he had to pro-
pose, that the Protest should lie open for signature by other
members, and that their signatures should be held ipso facto
as admitting them members of this Assembly. But in addi-
tion to this Protest, a concurrence in it had been signed by
those who were not members of Assembly; and he had now
to propose, that the Assembly should now assume into their
body, as members of the House, all the ministers who had
signed that concurrence, together with one elder from every
adhering kirk-session.
Friday, [May 19.
The I risk Deputation.
The Free Assembly met for the purpose of engaging in
devotional exercises, and receiving the deputation from
the Irish Church. The hall was densely crowded. The
roceedings were commenced with praise, a part of the 122d
Psalm being sung standing; after which there was read the
55th chapter of Isaiah. Dr Chalmers then offered up a
deeply impressive prayer. Each sederunt was commenced
with praise and prayer, and reading of the Scriptures, and
closed with praise and prayer.
The Clerk having read a commission from the General
Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, in favour
of the Rev. Messrs Denham, M‘Clure, Professor Killen, and
H. J. Dobbin; with James F erryer, Esq, D. J. Macrory,
Esq, and \Villiam Haslit, Esq., Lord Mayor of London~
derry, elders, as a deputation to attend the next General
Assembly of the Church of Scotland,—after Mr Denham of
Derry and Professor Killen had spoken in terms of high
gratulation, the Rev. William M‘Clure, minister of London-
derry, said—I. rise, Moderator, to express my full concur-
rence in the sentiments expressed by my brethren who have
preceded me. “"e have been deputed by the Assembly of
the Irish Presbyterian Church to attend the Assembly of
the Church of Scotland. Our first business, on landing on
these shores, has been to institute a search after the Church
of Scotland. There are certain features by which she has
been distinguished, and certain principles she has held. that
have guided us in this search. We had no difficulty in as-
certaining what these were in former times. We turn to
the Books of Discipline, and find the consent of the people
declared to be absolutely necessary for the formation of the
pastoral tie. \Ve come to the Second Reformation, and find
this principle imbodied in the acts of the free and glorious
Assembly of 1638. Coming down the stream of history, we
see it again recognised at the Reformation, and standing
forth as a prominent feature of the Reformed Church of
Scotland. This is one mark to assist us in our inquiries;
and when we find, as we now do, this principle fully and
clearly recognised in this Assembly, we see one feature, at
least, to prove that you are the true descendants and repre—
sentatives of the ancient Church of Scotland. \Ve find it
also declared in the standards common to us both, that
Christ is the alone King and Head of his Church, and that
within the sacred precincts of His house and kingdom no
civil governor has a right to enter. We recognise this fea-
ture of resemblance also in this Assembly to the ancient
Church of Scotland ;—we see you loyal to your earthly
sovereign, and attached to the constitution of these realms,
and yet alive to the honour of Christ, your Lord and Master,
and upholding, with unflinching steadfastness and many sac-
rifices, His crown and authority. \Ye find you also main-
taining the principle, no less Scriptural than Presbyterian,
of the official equality of those who are teachers in the
Church.
but we have made the desired discovery,-we rejoice to
have succeeded in our search, and we tender our commis-
sion to you as the Church of Scotland.
It is true, that some of the usual adjuncts of an Assembly
of the National Church are wanting here. \Ve do not see
the representative of earthly majesty, nor do we hear your ,
Under these circumstances, we have no doubt ,


meetings announced by the sound of martial music, or the
tramp of military; but these things we never thought essen-
tial to the Church of Christ. We see, however, among you,
that which is far more valuable,-—the distinct recognition of
Christ as King and Head of his Church; and, therefore, we
acknowledge you the Free Assembly of the Church of Scot-
land.
" They are the freomen whom the truth makes free,
And all are slaves besides."
After the laymen had delivered their sentiments, the
Moderator, in concluding a brilliant address, said,—I have
great pleasure, Gentlemen, in the prospect of hearing you
again; and I beg to convey to you the grateful acknowledg~
ment of the Assembly for your valuable testimony, and your
delightful expressions of sympathy, and the encouragement
and countenance you have given us by your appearance
among us this day.
Evening Sederzmt.
The Assembly met at 7 o’clock, and the hall was soon
filled to overflowing.
After some preliminaries, the Moderator stated that the
object of the present meeting of the Assembly was to state to
the elders, deacons, probationers, and students of the Free
Church, who had been invited to attend, the grounds on
which the separation had been made from the Establishment.
He took it for granted that many of them were present. He
then called on Dr Buchanan of Glasgow, who, in dealing
with the motion, viz., “That the Assembly do now invite
the concurrence of the elders, deacons, probationers, and
students of divinity, who have been requested to be present
at this meeting, in following out the separation from the
Establishment,” animadverted very felicitously upon her
Majesty’s Letter, which had just been read.
He was followed by Dr Gordon, who, among other things,
said,—Sir, it is a most miserable subterfuge Ihave heard pled,
that we might have remained in the Established Church,
and there retained intact our theoretical opinions, and that
we might have there risen solemnly to protest as often as
the civil courts actually interfered with ecclesiastical pro-
cedure, and that in this way our consciences might have
been satisfied. Yes, that subterfuge is one that I tremble to
think of a Christian man allowing himself for a single mo-
ment to entertain. \Vhy, the very fact of our drawing our
stipends after the declaration which the State has made, is
on our part, a solemn promise, as honest men, to the State,
that we never will make such a declaration, and is an ac-
quiescence in the principle; and a protest after that would be
a dishonest, a hypocritical protest. There is no other alter-
native. The conscience of every one of us has shut us out
on both sides- On the one side, if we had remained in the
Establishment, and held by our principles, to protest would
have been dealing falsely and dishonestly with the State.
\Ve would have been taking the benefit on a totally different
ground from that on which the State said it would give it.
On the other hand, if we had remained in the Establishment,
and submitted, we must have abandoned our allegiance to
the great Head of the Church. This I feel to be my posi-
tion, or rather felt it to be my position; but, thank God, I
breathe in a purer atmosphere than I have done for years
back—The deepest solemnity pervaded the Assembly dur-
ing the delivery of Dr Gordon’s address.
Dr Gardner was introduced to the Assembly, and read
the following Memorial from the Probationers :—
“ Deputed by nearly two hundred of our fellow-proba-
tioners, we take the liberty, in their name, of expressing
to you, Sir, and this venerable Assembly, our entire and
cordial concurrence in those high and holy principles, in
vindication of which you now deem it your solemn duty to
renounce connexion with the Established Church of the
land. Privileged as we have been to preach the gospel in
connexion with that Church, and looking forward to per-
manent employment as ordained ministers within its pale,
we feel it undoubtedly a sacrifice; but nevertheless, a sacri-
fice which, at the bidding of our Lord, we cheerfully make,
to cast away from us those prospects; and now we resolve,
in dependence on God’s grace, to dedicate ourselves to the
service of our Divine Master, in connexion with a Free
Church, unfettered and uncontrolled in its internal actings.
“ \Ye beg, therefore, Sir, most respectfully, to assure you
and the judicatories of the Free Presbyterian Church, that
we shall recognise them as those to whom we owe obedience



734
APPENDIX.



in the Lord. and to their decisions it shall be our uniform
anxiety implicitly to bow.
“ Our simple desire is to serve God in the gospel of His
Son; and we feel, therefore, that, in a crisis so momentous,
and in a state of affairs so unprecedented, it is incumbent
upon us to assume that position, and occupy that station in
the Lord’s vineyard, in which our fathers and brethren shall
consider us each, according to the talents which God hath
given him, best fitted to advance the cause of the Redeemer.
“ In such a season as this, Sir, we feel, that individual
partialities and predilections must be merged in the all-ab-
sorbing desire, that in us, and by us, Christ may be glorified.
“ Viewing you, therefore, Sir, and the Venerable Assem-
bly, as having displayed your banners in Christ’s name, and
for Christ’s crown, we thus publicly avow our adherence to
the same great Scriptural principles which you have so nobly
and disinterestedly maintained.
“ \Ve cast in our lot with yours, and we solemnly declare,
in the presence of God and this Assembly, that henceforth
ypucil- people shall be our people, and your God shall be our
0 .9!
“ In the name. and with the concurrence, of the
meeting of the adhering Probationers, held at
Edinburgh this day, 19th ll/Iay, 1843.
“ JAMES GARDNER, Chaimncm."
Before submitting the following motion, it was stated by
Dr \Velsh, Sir D. Brewster, and Dr Candlish, that ninety-
three students in the Edinburgh Hall had declared in favour
of the Free Church; that amajority of the St Andrew‘s students
held the same views; that nearly fourfiflhs of the divinity
students in Glasgow were of the same mind, and that in
Aberdeen there was also a majority in favour of the Free
Church.
Dr Candlish then submitted his motion :—That the
Assembly thankfully acknowledge the Memorial now pre-
sented, so honourable to the Probationers who have cast in
their lot with the ministers and elders protesting against the
Erastianism of the Establishment, under circumstances in
which every motive but a love of thetruth, and devotion to the
service of their Lord and Master, would have led them to
adopt a different course : They recognise in it a token of good
for the future prospects of the Church, and they trust that
the Probationers, in reliance on God’s grace, will persevere
in the path they have entered upon, which, though beset with
difficulties. will lead to a field of usefulness in the vineyard
of the Lord.
Saturday, Illay 20.
After the Assembly had met, the Marchioness of Bread-
albane,and Lady Hannah Thorpe, accompanied by Mr Camp-
bell of Monzie. entered the Hall, and were loudly cheered.
The sederunt was chiefly occupied by Mr A. Dunlop reading
the Report of the Building Section of the Provisional Com-
mittee ; Dr Candlish giving in the Report of the Statistical
Section of the Provisional Committee; when Dr Chalmers
vacated the chair, which was taken by Dr \Velsh, and
delivered his Report on the Financial Section of the Pro-
visional Committee.
Dr M‘Donald of Urquhart then moved a vote of thanks to
Dr Chalmers, and the other conveners of the sections of the
Provisional Committee, for the admirable and eloquent Re-
ports they had made to the Assembly, which was carried
bv acclamation.
“ Dr Keith laid on the table the Report on the Jewish Mis~
sions, to be taken up on a future occasion.
Monday, May 2'2.
The Assembly met to-day at twelve o'clock, in Dr Cand-
lish’s new church, Lothian Road.
Dr Candlish delivered a verbal Report, on the part of the
Committee appointed by the Commission in reference to the
Bicentenary of the \Vestminster Assembly.
The Five Schemes.
Mr Dunlop, in giving in the Report of the Five Schemes
of the Church, stated that the amount collected last year in
behalf of the India Mission, amounted to £4577; this year
it was £6909. There was collected last year for the Educa-
tion Scheme £5684; this year there was a diminution of
£800, the amount collected being £4858. For the Home
Mission there was collected last year £5029 ; this year the
sum amounted to £5337, showing a considerable increase.
The sum collected in behalf of the Colonial Mission amounted

last year to £4160, while this year the sum was £4268;
this included £380 from the Ladies’ Association of Edin-
burgh, who had shown great zeal in the cause. In the
scheme for the conversion of the Jews, there was a diminu-
tion of upwards of £300,_-Now they felt themselves prepared
to begin de novo; but feeling that in that period they had
increased so rapidly the sum contributed for these purposes
and erected so many churches, and so widely extended their
missionary operations, he could not for a single moment feel
the least doubt or hesitation, that these Schemes would not
only be continued, but that they would be carried on with
renewed energy.
The Moderator, addressing Mr Dunlop, said,—I am as
sanguine as yourself that the Church’s Five Schemes will
be supported as liberally as ever; and notwithstanding our
altered circumstances, I will not let go my confidence that
these Schemes will even be supported 011 a greater scale than
we have realized, in past years. He concluded with an ex-
pression of his admiration of the high talent and principle
which Mr Dunlop brought to the discharge of his various
duties as Convener.
The Assembly thereafter closed its public proceedings with
praise and prayer, about two o’clock, till the evening.
Evening Scdcrzmt.
Resolution (ment Separation from the Establishment.
Dr Macfarlan of Greenock gave in the Report of the Com-
mittee appointed to consider the proper course for effecting
and completing a separation from the Establishment, on the
part of the protesting ministers and elders, and those who
adhered to them. The report was as follows :—
“ It is the opinion of the Committee, that this Assembly
ought to pass a resolution declaring for itself, and all who
shall adhere, their separation from the Establishment; and
that an Act and Deed ought to be prepared, demitting the
status, rights, and privileges, held by them as ministers and
elders of the Establishment. In the event of this course
being approved of by the General Assembly, it is recom-
mended that this Committee be re-appointed, with power to
prepare the draft of an Act to be submitted to this Assembly
at its meeting to-morrow forenoon, with a view to its being
considered and subscribed by the members present at said
meeting, and to report in what way it ought to be disposed of.”
The Rev. Doctor then said,-—T he two great principles for
which we have been contending are Non-intrusion and Spir—
itual Jurisdiction. It was not enough that we had got a good
non-intrusion measure, without at the same time having the
spiritual jurisdiction of the Church secured; for, without that,
we could have had no power to make application of such a
measure.
Ithink I am prepared to show, that we could not have
gone out sooner, and that we could not have remained longer
than we did. I say, first of all, that we were not at liberty
to go out one day sooner than we did, because we were placed
in the Church, not merely for the purpose of discharging
spiritual duty there—although that is, no doubt, the princi—
pal part of our work,——but we were also placed in the Church
of Scotland as the guardians and defenders of the rights and
the liberties of the people, and the guardians and defenders of
the rights and liberties of the Church.
The question now is,—and it is a question which must
be discussed before the country and the world,—On whom
does the blame of this disruption lie? Does it lie at the
door of the Church of Scotland? I say it does not. I say
here, advisedly—not under the excitement of public speak-
ing, but calmly and deliberately—that the guilt of this disrup-
tion, I mean in the latter part of its history, lies with her
Majesty’s Government,--with the men who now hold the
helm of affairs. There is a perfect unison between the duty
of the civil magistrate to protect and encourage religion, and
the Headship of Christ, and His appointing a government
distinct from the civil magistrate. That is the true doctrine
of our admirable Confession, and the doctrine which, I trust,
we will always maintain, though now separated from the
Establishment. He concluded by moving the following re-
solution :—
“ That the Assembly approve of the Report, following out
the Claim, Declaration, and Protest, adopted by the General
Assembly, which met at Edinburgh in May, 1842, and the
Protest made on Thursday last at the meeting of the com-
missioners chosen to the Assembly, appointed to have been



APPENDIX.
735

that day holden; and upon the ground therein set forth, do
now, for themselves, and all who adhere to them, Separate
from the Establishment, Protesting that, in doctrine, polity,
and discipline, they truly represent the Church of their
fathers, whose testimony on behalf of the crown rights of their
Redeemer, as King of Zion, and Prince of the kings of the
earth, they firmly purpose, at all hazards, and at whatever
sacrifice, still to maintain; and Protesting that henceforward
they are not, and shall not be, subject in any respect to the
ecclesiastical judicatories presently established by law in
Scotland, but that they are, and shall be free to perform their
functions as pastors and elders towards their respective con-
gregations, or such portion thereof as shall adhere to them,
and to exercise government and discipline in their several
judicatories, separate from the Establishment, according to
the word of God, and agreeably to the true and original prin-
ciples of the Church of Scotland, and to the standards thereof,
as heretofore understood; and that the Committee be re-
appointed, with instructions to prepare the draft of an Act
and Deed, to be adopted and subscribed at as early 2. period
as possible during the subsequent sittings of this Assembly,
Renouncing and Demitting the status, rights, and privileges,
held by virtue of the Establishment; the said draft to be
reported to the Assembly at the forenoon sederunt to-mor-
row."
Rev. Mr Beith of Stirling said,——The motion declares our
separation from the Establishment. I rejoice, not merely that
we are thus in sight of land, but just ready to step ashore from
the troublous element on which we have been so long contend-
ing, that we may engage with our might in the great and im-
portant work to which, I believe, our Master, in this day, is
calling us. \Vith me there is no doubt, that to remain in the
Establishment would be to be guilty of heinous sin against our
own souls, against Christ. and against the Christian people of
this land. What is the alternative to which we should be re-
duced, were we to consent to remain ? Evidently this, that we
must be parties to the sin of preventing the Christian people
from obeying Christ in one of his special commands. His de-
clared will is, that they should “ take heed what they hear,”
that is, whom they hear,—that they should not believe every
spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of God, and for
this reason, that “many false prophets have come into the
world.” But under the present state of the law of this
country, the ministers of the Establishment must be parties
in preventing the professed members of Christ’s Church doing
the thing which He commands. And not only so, but should
we remain in the Establishment, then, too, must we be par-
ties to the sin of permitting another authority besides God
to rule over the conscience. Let me remind you, Sir, of the
mark of the “ Man of Sin.” Is it not this, that, as God, he
sits in the temple of God, exalting himself above all that is
called God,—-showing himself that he is God? Is it not
this, that he assumes the place of God, lording it over the
conscience, and interfering with the prerogative of the Most
High? It matters not to us, though the interfering party
be neither the pope nor the monarch. If the Civil Courts
assume the same place, and come in between God and our
consciences, for us to submit is to yield to the same influence,
—it is still submitting to the “Man of Sin." This is the
position in which we are placed; and it must be obvious
that no alternative was left us, but either sinful submission,
or quitting the Establishment. Had we adopted the former,
then how could we have retained the name of servants of
Christ, or presumed to do His work—proclaiming the glad
tidings of salvation P In all the things that have come upon
us, it is our part to recognise and acknowledge the hand of
our great Head, and to feel that we have by Him been shut
up to our present position.
Rev. Dr Cunningham said,—It is impossible not to feel that
this controversy has borne plain traces of being a controversy
for divine truth, carried on with the enmity of this world. This
must be seen and felt by almost all who know what scriptural
truth is. There can be no reasonable doubt that the Church has
produced the enmity which has been raised against her, just
because she began to feel that she was a Church of Christ, and
was determined to act in that character. The Church, in i
God’s good time, began to feel this; and, in consequence, she
has called forth the enmity of an ungodly world. The world
had resolved to put down evangelical ascendancy in the
Church of Scotland. They have determined to prevent her
from taking the word of God as the sole rule of her conduct; |
and they have attempted to bring her into a state of sub- 1
l
serviency to human authority, mainly through the instrumen-
tality of the law of patronage, by which a civil right was 1n~
troduced into a spiritual matter. The right of patronage is
bad enough, even when we contemplate its indirect influence,
as involving a control over the temporalities. It was bad
enough, even when limited, as it was by the civil courts in
last century, to a control over the temporalities; but now
patronage is interpreted in such a way as that it has not only
this influence over the temporalities, but that it forms the
ground of direct jurisdiction and interference in the regula-
tion of ecclesiastical questions,—that is to say, in the dis-
posal of questions, whether men are to be ordained or not.
and whether they are to be deposed or not. Patronage, I
have said, under any circumstances, is bad enough ; but when
it is interpreted in this way, it becomes utterly and thorough-
ly intolerable, and a burden to which no Church of Christ
can submit. This, then, is the position in which we are
placed. Vi'e assume that the principles for which we con-
tend are sound and good, and that they have been rejected
by the civil authority, and, indeed, that it is difficult to do
anything that can make more clear the grand truths we are
contending for, and that we have now no alternative but to
abandon our emoluments as ministers of the Established
Church. This is a clear matter of principle, about which
there is no room to doubt; and perhaps there should be less
of anxiety and lamentation on the one hand, and of boasting
on the other, than we may be inclined sometimes to exhibit.
We have been placed in circumstances in which God has
been pleased to call us to the discharge of this duty, and we
should endeavour to recognise the voice of God in the
matter,—on the one hand without any boasting, and on the
other without any anxiety,-and just take the course which
God has so plainly pointed out to us. God has not, by any
special supernatural communications, pointed out to us what
is the particular path of duty we are to follow, but he has
given us a light unto our feet and a lamp unto our path;
and the course of duty He has made clear and plain to us
through His Word, and by the enlightening influence of His
Spirit. We are bound to follow His precepts, and to main-
tain His truths ; and in this way, viewed in connexion with
the contests in which we have been engaged, the path of duty
is clear before us,- the great Head of the Church is telling
us plainly and explicitly, that our duty in this matter is to
leave the Established Church and all its emoluments and
privileges. He is telling us that, as plainly as he did when
he said to the young man in the gospel, “ Go, sell all that
thou hast, and take up thy cross and follow me.” And he
is giving us the same encouragement He gave to him——“ and
thou shalt have treasure in heaven.”
As I have had little opportunity of late of referring to the
grounds of our separation, I will very briefly refer to one or
two points, just in the way of calling them to your recollec-
tion. In the first place, then, let us think of who the parties
are from whom we are now proposing to separate, and what
is their character and their position P “'e propose to separ-
ate ourselves first of all from the State, or supreme civil
power in these lands. \Yithout entering into any general
exposition of their character, just think what they have done
in this matter; for it is to that alone we would refer. _They
have openly and deliberately declared their determination to
put down and trample on great scriptural principles. how,
this is a great and heinous sin of which they are guilty : they
have held up to the scorn and contempt of the world, prin-
ciples we can prove to be scriptural, as well as accordant
with our standards; and the sin has been attended, in this
case, with much aggravation ; for they have done it in plain
violation of the fundamental principles of our constitution,
and the most solemn national engagements. They have done
that—they have done all that. Our constitution has been
thoroughly subverted; for, whatever men may say to the
contrary, I contend, that it can be clearly established, that
the decisions of the Courts of Law have been unconstitu-
tional. This is a position which can be readily understood
and explained. There is not one Judge on the Scottish
Bench who would deny it. There may be one or two in
the House of Lords; but on the Scottish Bench, the position
I have laid down would not be denied by one of them.
They, of course. believe these decisions are warranted by the
Act of Queen Anne, which they say imposed upon them an
obligation to pronounce the decisions against us; but I be-
lieve that, strange as may be some of the statements we have
had from the Bench, and strange as may be the acts per-




736
APPENDIX.



formed there, there is not one Judge on that Bench who
would deny that these decisions are based on principles
opposed to what was secured to us in the Revolution Settle-
ment. Therefore we are entitled to say, these decisions are
unconstitutional, and amount to a subversion of the con-
stitution of this kingdom. They have thus incurred a great
responsibility; and, without entering into a question of cas-
uistry, whether or not it might be lawful to continue on
friendly terms with such a State, and receive favours from
such a State, I think we will not hesitate to come to the
conclusion that it is a more honourable and safe position
for us to have nothing to do with them. There can he no
doubt that the State or nation will be punished for what
they have done; and therefore it is a safer position to be
separated from them. The Protesting Church, assembled
in this place, has not sinned in this matter, and therefore
we may escape from any share in their plagues.
But again, we are separating also from a party in the
Church itself. I do not mean to dwell on this subject. It
is a delicate subject; and it is not, perhaps, right in us to
be enlarging on these topics. It is not for us to say how
far the principles of these men—-for I speak of their prin-
ciples only—might have warranted us in taking a different
course; but I will just say, that, looking at the general
character of 11/1 odcratism, as it has existed in the Churcl. of
Scotland, I find here also that it is a much more safe and
honourable position to have nothing to do with it. I do
not mean to say that anything they have done would have
warranted us in simply leaving them; because, on scriptural
principles, we should not have separated from them, but
exercised ecclesiastical discipline upon them. This is a
duty from which we might have shrunk; and, therefore, I
think that, while on scriptural grounds we have escaped that
duty, we are safer away from them altogether. I would not
have you to take this statement as made in reference to any
particular individual; but viewing Moderatism as a whole,
I think we are entitled to say, that it has just been the very
Babylon, the Assyria, and the Antichrist of the Church of
Scotland,-—the great adversary of Christ’s cause and Christ’s
people in this land. The beast in 1834 received a deadly
wound—that wound is about to be healed,—Moderate as-
cendancy is about to be re—established in the Church of Scot-
land. But we are assured of this, that if there be truth in
God’s word, though the wound has been healed, and though
Moderate ascendancy has been re-established, it is just that,
in God’s good time, and in His own way, it may be visited
with a more overwhelming destruction. ‘We occupy a far
more honourable position in not being connected with them,
though I do not mean to say that the circumstances to which
I have referred would have led to our breaking off from the
Establishment.
Tuesday, May 23.
.4 ct of Separation.
The Assembly met to-day in the Canonmills Hall, at one
o’clock—when Mr Dunlop laid on the table of the Assembly,
the draft of an Act of Separation from the Established Church,
to be signed by the protesting ministers and elders, and all who
adhere to them, demitting the status, rights, and privileges
held by them as ministers and elders of the Established
Church. See p. 7'27.
The calling of the roll then began. Ten names of members
were called over at one time, each answering to his name,
and saying, “ Agree.” These proceeded to the platform
behind the Moderator’s chair, where they signed the docu-
ment, and, when they had done so, returned to their seats
again, giving room to other ten. The signing was proceeded
with in this way until half-past four o’clock; when, it not
being nearly completed, the Assembly, after engaging in
praise, adjourned till six, when it was to be resumed.
Evening Sederunt.
The Assembly met again at six o’clock, and after praise
and reading of the Scriptures and prayer, resumed the signing
of the Act of Separation, which continued till past eight
o’clock. On the signing being completed, Dr Candlish said,—-
The business of this day has been of a character, I think I
may say, unprecedented, not merely in the history of the
Church of Scotland, but I might also say in the history of
the Church of Christ; for I am not aware that ever, on any
former occasion in the history of the Church, there was an

lar to that which we have this day been transacting,—that,
with one heart, and at the same time individually, one by
one, we have deliberately signed over all that we have on
earth,——we have given over all our emoluments and advan-
tages as ministers of the Established Church, and that, as we
believe, for the sake of Christ’s crown and covenant,—~we
have signed a document which makes us in form, as well as
reality, no longer ministers of the Established Church of
Scotland. It is a solemn thing, whether we look back to
that status which we have now finally and for ever abandoned,
or forward to the course on which we are entering; and I beg
to propose that the document be read over, with the names
attached to it, that we may know each other, and that our
hearts may be knit together more closely in bonds of brotherly
love, seeing that we have agreed to suffer personally for
Christ’s Cause—This being done,
The Assembly proceeded to hear deputations from the
London Lay Union, and the Synod of the Presbyterlan
Church in England.
Wednesday, Jllay ‘24.
The Assembly met this day at one o’clock. After en-
gaging in devotional exercises, Dr Keith of St Cyrus read
the Report of the Committee on the Jewish Mission for last
year, comprising Report of the Committee for promoting the
Conversion of the Jews. lst. Mission at Pesth; ‘2d. Mission
at J assy; 3d. Mission to Palestine,—all of which were most
encouraging.
The Moderator, addressing Dr Keith, said—It is with no
ordinary feelings of satisfaction that I tender to you the
thanks of the Assembly for the Report you have now read,
the hearing of which was to us a source of the richest grati'
fication.
Evening Sederunt.
The Assembly met at seven o’clock. The Moderator
introduced the Deputation of United Original Seceders, con-
sisting of Mr Anderson, the Moderator; Mr Shaw, the Clerk;
Thomas lVI‘Crie; Mr Wyllie, and lVIr Whyte.
Rev. Mr Shaw said,—I rejoice in the demonstration of
the power of Christian principle which you have given,—in
the proof that you have, by your Act of Separation, afforded
of the power of religion in the heart. The effect of the noble
deed of Thursday will be felt throughout Christendom. T he
principles will not merely cross the border, but they will
spread to every land, and bless the nations of the earth. We
date the Second Reformation from the sitting of the General
Assembly at Glasgow some two hundred years ago—that was
a glorious Reformation. The secession of Thursday last was
a Third Reformation, which will, under the blessing of God,
be more glorious still.
Rev. Thomas M‘Crie sai(l,—-\Ve have been accustomed to
regard ourselves as a branch of the Church of Scotland, to
recognise her as our mother Church, to take a filial interest
in her prosperity, to pray for her reformation, and to look
forward with hope and delight to the time when we might be
at liberty to re-enter her pale and return to her communion.
It was not indeed from the Church of Scotland, but from the
prevailing party in her communion—that is,—the Moderate
party,—that our fathers declared a secession. Now, how-
ever, when that party who drove out our fathers,—and drove
them out because they protested against them for intruding
ministers upon reclaiming congregations— has, with the aid
of the civil power, driven out you also, and for the same
reason,—now that they are the only party in the Establish-
ment,—now that they have, not by the temporary ascendancy
of a party, but, after going through the farce of a discussion,
by what may be considered a unanimous vote, surrendered
the liberties of the Church into the hands of the civil power,
—the case is considerably altered. I must regard you as the
true representatives of the Church of Scotland. Much as I
admire the delicacy shown by the members of this Assembly
in their allusions to their former brethren, it can hardly be
expected that I should display the same reserve. And you
will permit me to say, that I for one cannot and will not
recognise that party you have left behind, as my mother
Church.
Rev. J._A. \Vyllie of Dollar then rose and said,—Sir, we
recognise 1n your Assembly the representative of the ancient
Church of Scotland,—of that Church from which God took
His martyrs in times past, and from which it may be His
association of Christian ministers engaged in abusiness simi- 1 holy P1951Lsure to take His martyrs in times to Come. ‘VF


APPENDIX.
73'?





hail you as the inheritor of her virtues, and the heir of her
renown; and surely this consideration is well fitted to cheer
you amid the labours and sufferings of the path on which
you have now entered, \Vith regard to the other society—
that from which you have separated—we know her not. She
may call herself the Church of Scotland; but Scotland dis-
owns her, and the martyrs of Scotland disown her; for the
tenet she has now adopted, as her leading and distinguishing
tenet, is one which these holy confessors “ resisted unto blood,
striving against sin.” But to you we fondly turn, and in you
we recognise the church of our fathers, and of our fathers’
God. “ So let thine enemies perish, O Lord; but let them
who love thee be as the sun when he goeth forth in his
strength.”
Rev. Al r \Vhite, Haddington, said,—The principles of N on-
intrusion and Spiritual Independence for which you have
been contending, are neither new nor peculiar; they are
laid down in the word of God, and are, therefore, as ancient
as Christianity, and common to all churches formed according
to the pattern shown in the Scriptures; they have a place
in the Standard Books of the Church of Scotland, were con-
tended for by her worthies, suffered for by her martyrs,
and, excepting in those periods where aliens had the ascen-
dancy in her councils, they have been the uniform law of her
administration ever since the First Reformation.
The Moderator addressing the deputation said,--It is
truly gratifying to us that we have the pleasure of seeing the
descendants of the Original Seceders, who were cast out of
the Church of Scotland for their defence of the same princi-
ples and the same cause which we are defending, making
their spontaneous appearance at the very first General As-
sembly of the Free Church of Scotland, and giving us their
countenance and encouragement in the prosecution of the
good work.
Thursday, zl/lay 25.
The forenoon sederunt took place in Lothian Road church,
but the meeting was private.
Evening Sederunt.
The Assembly met at seven, in Canonmills Hall, which
was again filled with an audience amounting to betwixt three
and four thousand. Rev. Dr Duncan of Ruthwell, took the
chair. .
In course of the evening, Mr Dunlop read the following
letter from the Marquis of Breadalbane, which was received
with immense applause :--
“ LoNDoN, .Mag/ 23, 1843.
“ Dear Mr Dunlop,—I received your note of the 19th
instant, yesterday morning, and as I have also received the
Scotch papers, I am aware of all your proceedings down to
Saturday. After a careful perusal of these, and having
given my anxious consideration to the various topics of the
Queen’s letter, and the spirit which pervades it, I am most
reluctantly obliged to give up that hope which I had till now
"ondly entertained, that the Government were really in ear-
nest in their desire to bring in a measure consistent with the
rights and privileges of the Presbyterian Church, and securing
to the parishes of Scotland the appointment of ministers ac-
ceptable to the people. My resolve is therefore now taken,
to vindicate my own principles as a Presbyterian, and to
leave the Established Church ; and I beg of you to command
my humble services in any way which can be most useful in
the cause of the Free Presbyterian Church. I remain, dear
Mr Dunlop, very faithfully yours, BREADALBANE.“
A communication from the Free Dissenters in Holland,
of a very interesting nature, was read by Dr Henry Duncan,
Moderator, pro z‘empore. It was written both in Dutch and
English. The letter was received with great cordiality,
ordered to be recorded, and a Committee appointed to pre—
pare an answer.
Church .Jclzemes.
Afr Dunlop read the report of the Committee appointed
to prepare the draft of an act for collections for the Five
Schemes, and to make suggestions as to any alteration in the
management, under the altered circumstances of the Church,
which having been acquiesced in, the Assembly approved of
the report and act, and appointed accordingly,
Committee on Educatzon. ‘
v . l
Dr IVelsh, as Convener gave m the following report :— i
That upon the lowest scale, and as presenting the minimum
upon which the education of students of theology can be con-
ducted for even a single year, the following arrangements
must be made by the Assembly, or by a Committee intrusted
with full powers upon the subject :
“ 1. Three, or, if found desirable, four, professors of divin—
ity must be appointed, viz., a principal and primarius pro-
fessor of divinity—a professor of divinity and church history,
—a professor of divinity and Hebrew.
“ 2. A hall or class-room must be procured.
“ 3. A library must be founded.
“ In regard to the funds necessary for carrying a full system
of education into effective operation, the Committee were of
opinion that a sum not less than £200,000 must be placed in
the hands of the Church.”
The report was approved of, and the Committee continued,
with a view to their reporting further on other parts of the
system of education, in connexion with the Free Church, at a
future diet of Assembly.
Friday, May 26.
The Assembly met to-day in the large hall at Canonmills,
at one o’clock,--Dr Chalmers. Moderator. After engaging
in the usual devotional exercises, the Clerk read over the
minutes of the former sederunt.
Sabbath Obso rrance.
Rev. P. Fairbairn, (Salton,) on behalf of the Committee,
read a report of their last year’s proceedings. It referred
principally to the efforts which had been made in opposition
to the Sabbath travelling on the Edinburgh and Glasgow
Railway. The Committee recommended the issuing of an
address or testimony on the subject. -
Mr Dunlop then moved that the thanks of the Assembly
be tendered to Mr Fox l‘ilaule, M.P., Mr Rutherford,
M.P., Mr Campbell of Monzie, h/l.P., and Mr P. M.
Stewart, M .P., for the deep interest they had taken in, and
for the valued services they had rendered to, the Church.
The Right Hon. Sir James Forrest, baronet, Lord
Provost of the city of Edinburgh, seconded the motion, and
the Moderator said he would have great pleasure in doing
all that the Assembly required, to give expression to the
grateful acknowledgments of the valuable services of those
gentlemen.—-May I be permitted to say, that I look to their
support as a presage of the further support we may yet ex-
pect from the friends of civil and religious liherty,--two
causes that have been inseparably connected from the days of
the glorious Luther to the time of the Revolution. The best
guarantee for Civil liberty is to be found in the freedom and
prosperity of the Christian Church.
Evening Sederunt.
The ministers and probationers met at eight o'clock in the
Lothian Road church, for devotional exercises in connexion
with the work lying before them during the ensuing summer.
The services were commenced by the Rev. Henry Grey of
Edinburgh; who gave out Psalm cxxxix. If-(i, read Rev.
ii., engaged in prayer, and gave out Psalm cxxxix. 7—1‘2.
He was succeeded by the Rev. Mr Bonar of Larbert,—1 Tim
ii ; prayer ; Psalm cxxiii. 1. Rev. Mr Brown of 0rd
followed—Acts iv. 23, to the end; prayer; Psalm cii. 13.
Mr Grey pronounced the blessing.
It was a night much to be remembered. The Lord was
there. The brethren were “ agreed together” respecting the
things which they asked ; and many felt that the answer was
not withheld.
A very large meeting of elders was also held for the same
purpose in St Luke’s church.
Saturday, Ma y ‘27.
The Assembly met at one, in Canonmills Hall.—Dr Mac-
kay of Dunoon in the chair, in the absence of Dr Chalmers.
The Clerk submitted to the meeting the form agreed to for
the deed of demission by probationers, which having been
read, the Clerk intimated that licentiates wishing to subscribe
it would have an opportunity of doing so in the committee-
roorn. Upon this a great number of licentiates rose and left
the hall for this purpose, amidst great applause from the
audience.
The report on sabbath Observance in America, then came
under the notice of the Assembly.


0 A
APPENDIX.




l

Secular Afaz'rs of the Church.
Mr Dunlop read the revised report of the Committee
on the first branch of the secular affairs of the Church. The
report was adopted.
Election of Qficebearers.
Mission, The report detailed the objects for which the
mission was originally appointed.
The report on Foreign Missions having been called for,
Dr Candlish said, he believed there was no formal report
to be given in from this Committee.
Dr Cunningham said he had to lay before the Assembly
a brief report on the way of electing office-bearers; but the
consideration of this document was postponed till Monday
afternoon.
.Mouday, [ll/lay 29.
The Free Assembly met this day at eleven o’clock, in Dr
Candlish’s new church, Lothian Road. The public, how-
ever, were not admitted till one o’clock, at which hour, in
the absence of the Moderator, Dr M‘Donald, Ferintosh,
took the chair, and opened the meeting with devotional ex-
erc1ses.
The Rev. Mr Cairns of Cupar, was of opinion the Assem-
bly should issue a pastoral address, explanatory of the princi-
ples for which the Free Church had been called on to con-
tend, and from a regard to which they were now compelled
to quit the Establishment. Now that the eyes of all Chris-
tendoin were upon them, they owed such a statement to all
who held principles identical with theirs. They owed it to
the Original Secession Synod, from whom they were now
separated by a hardly perceptible distance; and indeed he
was not aware of any cause that should prevent them from
coalescing as soon as possible. Dr Cunningham concurred.
The report on the Election of ()flicebearers gave rise to con-
siderable discussion; but it was ultimately agreed to leave
the final settlement of the matter till next Assembly.
Quoad Sacra Churches.
Mr Dunlop gave in a verbal report from the Law Com-
mittee on the quoad sacra churches. A claim had been
made, by the Established Church, to the property of these
churches; but in the mean time it would be sufficient for
the ministers of these churches to state, that the appoint-
ments of presbyteries to preach in them ought to be disre-
garded, except backed by applications to the Civil Courts.—
l‘he Committee was re-appointed.
Evening Sede'runt.
The Assembly met in the hall at Canonmills at seven
o'clock, and, as usual, engaged in prayer and praise, and
reading the Scriptures; the Rev. Henry Grey, Moderator.
Financial Committee.
Dr Chalmers read the report of this Committee. The
first part of the report related to the various items of money
realized for the Building and Sustentation Funds. The
aggregate sum, now reported, amounted to £232,347.
The reverend Doctor observed, that it was kind in the
christian public to come forward as they had done; to set
themselves forward as the instruments of carrying out the
promise to these ejected ministers, to shield and protect them,
—aud concluded his singularly powerful address by intimat~
ing, that a number of the most interesting cases connected
with the subscription would be published in an Appendix to
the Report. '
The Chairman, Rev. H. Grey, addressing the Moderator,
said,-—1\10derat0r, I am unable to give expression to the
grateful feeling which pervades the heart of every one in this
Assembly. Our obligations to you are inexpressibly great.
They extend over many long years. Your services to the
Church in connexion with the great cause which is identified
with your presence here to-night, entitles you to the grati-
tude and the thanks of this Assembly. The wisdom of your
suggestions, and the efiiciency of your plans, have been tried,
and have triumphed. We thank God, and glorify the grace
of God in you. You are the giant collector—the big beggar,
-—and there is no selfishness in your beggary you ask for
the Church of Christ; Why, Sir, you have erected a new

i and Prayer is, that you may be long spared, that you may con-
A long report was read from the Committee on the Home '





l Establishment, and I think now, that we are pretty much
‘ independent of our land-holders.
\Vhen was there ever such
an Assembly as this before P N o angry passions, no unruly
tempers, no factions strife for the precedence of this chair.
, And I trust we shall improve our privileges for the advance-
. ment of the kingdom of Christ.
And for you, Sir, our hope
tinue to be a blessing to the kingdom of Christ.
Colouzal Churches.
Dr ‘Velsh then read the report of the Committee. v
The accounts from Upper Canada, Nova Scotia, brew
Brunswick, and New South Wales, were of the most cheer-
ing nature, and the interest felt in our cause was such as to
show, that at whatever distance Scotchmen might be from
their country, the love of home, and of the Church of home,
was the strongest feeling in their hearts.
The Moderator returned thanks to Dr wWelsh in suitable
terms.
Education Committee——Supplemeutal Report.
Dr \Velsh read a statement concerning the proposed
College of the Free Church—A Theological Faculty—Week-
day Elementary Schools—Sabbath Schools—Church and
Sacred Music. In reference to the latter he remarked :—
There is perhaps no department in which we have been less
attentive to the views and feelings of the founders of our
Church, than in that which relates to sacred music. And it
is, therefore, recommended, that a special Sub-committee
should be appointed to take the whole subject of sacred
music into their consideration, viz., 1. In regard to intro-
ducing this as an indispensable branch of education in our
elementary schools; 2. In considering the best means of im—
proving congregational singing, and taking practical measures
for introducing an improvement into separate congregations ;
and, 3. In using judicious means towards making the singing
of psalms form a part of family worship.
Tuesday, .Mag/ 30.
The Assembly met to-day in Canonmills Hall at 11
o‘clock,—Rev. Mr Burns of Kilsyth in the chair. The As-
sembly was, as usual, constituted by praise and prayer, and
reading of the Scriptures.
Debt of the Church.
Mr J. G. \Vood, W. S. in the absence of Mr A. Bonar, laid
before the Assembly a statement of the funds of the Church
for the past year.
Mr Henry Dunlop, of Craigton, thought it was not too much
to ask the elders to take the burden of the debt on their own
shoulders, and thus keep clear of the current by which the
contributions of the people were flowing into the funds of
the Free Presbyterian Church. He calculated that the num-
ber of ministers who would have altogether left the Estab-
lishment would be 500-, and if so, then there would be a
body of three or four thousand elders; and if each did some~
thing to liquidate the debt, it would soon be swept away.
He begged to move the appointment of a Committee to carry
out these suggestions.
Mr Craufurd of Craufurdland, thought the elders could best
take up this case, and he hoped they would cheerfully do so.
Dr Cunningham thought no class should be exempted from
the obligation under which they felt themselves laid to get
quit of that debt, and enter on their new efforts untrammelled
by any legal burdens. It was a subject which they could not
well appeal to the public upon; but they might all do some-
thing, each in his own circle. He was quite willing that a
Committee of the elders should take the responsibility of
making the arrangements for collecting the money and pay-
ing off the debt; and in doing so, he would have it distinctly
understood, that 355000 was the sum that would require to be
raised.
A large and influential committee was then appointed.
Address to the Queen.
Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, read the draft of an Address
to her Majesty—which he said was necessary, that it might
be known to the crown in what position we consider our-
selves as standing, now that we have renounced the benefits
which we have derived from our situations as parish ministers.
Rev. Dr Buchanan of Glasgow, said,_ Moderator, this
Address furnishes us with an opportunity of taking what
___’.~ - ‘.—

APPENDIX.
739

may be called a parting look, both to the State and to the
istablished Church of Scotland. I say a parting look; for
he must be blind indeed, both to the signs of the times, and
to the character which these two parties, in reference to eccle-
siastical affairs, have now assumed, who anticipates that we
shall soon come again into contact, either with the Estab—
lished Church, which we have forsaken, or with the State
whose connexion we have renounced. There is, I appre-
hend, in the judgment of every member of this Assembly, a
double wall of separation between us and the National
Church. One wall has been built by the State, another wall
has been built by the Residuary Assembly.
I am not careful with regard to the details of any legis—
lative measure which may be either spoken of in the Houses
of Parliament, or ultimately passed into a law,—I am not
careful as to the details of any measure which they may
either offer or actually pass. They have laid down the
principle, that the State is supreme,—that it is not an ally
standing in a co-ordinate position to the Church of Christ;
but that the instant the connexion between Church and
State is formed, the Church loses, so to speak, its individ-
uality,—loses its own distinctive character and prerogatives,
and becomes a mere part and parcel of the State itself. It
matters not what legislation the State may offer on this
footing. The legislation offered on this footing the Church
never can entertain for a moment,—never for a moment can
receive. I say, therefore, it is a parting look, but not a
“lingering’ look, which we now take. For so long as the
State asserts and maintains principles like these, we can
have no desire for any connexion with the State at all.
Sir, we read in history of a very memorable Act Rescis-
sory of a very memorable reign; and unquestionably the
Residuary Assembly would have saved themselves much
trouble, and made their proceedings more clear and definite,
if, instead of having seriatim repealed all the acts of Reforma-
tion, which this Church has been in the course of pursuing
during the last nine years, it had “ at one fell swoop,” and
by a single sentence, declared everything the Church had
done since 1834 to be null and void. An Erastian State,
therefore, may legislate as seemeth good to it for an Eras-
tian Church. With their proceedings we have no concern.
We can look on them only with aversion, or with pity.
But so long as that State and that ecclesiastical Establish-
ment continue on the footing they have respectively taken up,
—continue to sustain the character they have severally as-
sumed,——I say we are done with them, and will continue
in the course we have, by God’s good hand upon us, so
auspiciously begun,—the course of organizing all the parts
of our Protesting Church, spreading its institutions and its
agencies wider and wider abroad over our beloved land,—
sending, I trust, its blissful influences far abroad, to gladden
Christendom at large, and to give an impulse to the king-
dom of Christ over the whole world.
Report on Correspondence with Evangelical Churches.
The Assembly having called for the report as to corres-
pondence with other bodies of Evangelical Christians,
Dr R. Buchanan rose, and said,-—Important and inter-
esting as the subject was, it was one of peculiar delicacy and
extent; the object of which might be injured as much by the
indiscreet zeal, as by the lukewarmness and indifference of
its professed friends. He had little doubt that the Assem-
bly would be of the same opinion as the Committee. He
considered it would be neither desirable nor wise to rush at
once into the details of the subject,—to rush at once into a
recommendation of those details by which the measure might
be best carried into effect. But the Committee considered it
to be their duty, and the duty of the Assembly, at once cor-
dially to entertain the question, and to indicate freely that
they regard it as one at all times deserving the serious atten-
tion of a Christian Church, and especially deserving attention
at the present eventful crisis at which they had arrived,
and the eventful period of the history of the Christian world
which was now about to begin.
Dr Candlish rejoiced in the latter recommendation of the
report for the appointment of a Committee to co—operate with,
and to meet deputations from, other churches, forthe inter-
change of information, and for consultation as to what ought
to be done for the cause of God and His Anointed; and he
would be glad if the suggestion were followed out by all
evangelical churches, to appoint deputations to meet and con-
sult on the important affairs of our common christianity.


Evening Sedemnt.
Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, took the chair in the absence
of Dr Chalmers, and opened the meeting with devotional
exercises. After the reading of the minutes, a deputation
from the Edinburgh Tradesmen’s Association, came forward
and delivered an address of sympathy and congratulation.
The address was admirable. It was signed by John Mac-
donald, John M‘Craw, James B. M‘Callum, and Alex.
Johnston; and these individuals were understood to compose
the deputation who presented it.
Overture on Union for Prayer.
Dr Candlish read an overture on this subject, signed by a
large number of ministers and some elders, proposing that
ten days during the month of October should be set apart for
united prayer. The object of the overture was hailed with
the cordial approbation of the Assembly.
Co-operation with Dissenters.
Dr Keith was happy and thankful, now that their business
was drawing to a close, that, in the whole course of the
momentous proceedings of the first Assembly of the Free
Presbyterian Church of Scotland, there had not been a single
division. He farther remarked, in very encouraging terms,
on the prospect of their co-operating with Evangelical Dis-
senters; and, having alluded to the liberal manner in which
they had granted the use of their churches to the Free Pres-
byterian Church, he moved that the thanks of the Assembly
be voted to them for this mark of their kindness. Agreed
to.
Day of Thanksgiving.
Dr Candlish proposed that Thursday the 15th of June be
set apart for solemn thanksgiving to Almighty God, humilia—
tion, and prayer, in connexion with the circumstances in
which they had now been placed. Agreed to.
The Moderator said—That in recording the names of those
who had signalized themselves by their contributions to the
New Church,—and it was a little adventurous in him to do so
from memory at all,--he had made one omission, which he
now wished to repair. The Rev. Doctor here read a letter
from William Campbell, Esq. of Tillichewan, announcing
his intention to adhere to the Free Presbyterian Church, and
a subscription of £2000 to the Building Fund, to be distri-
buted in sums of £400 each, for the erection of churches in
the following parishes respectively, namely, Alexandria,
Bonhill, Dumbarton, and Cardross in Dumbartonshire, and
Dunoon in Argyleshire, besides £20 annually to each. The
Moderator added, that he believed that if all this gentleman’s
benefactions to the Church of Scotland, at the time its
extension was going on so prosperously, were recounted
together, they would not come short of £15,000.
Close of Assembly.
Mr Dunlop moved that the next Assembly be held at
Glasgow. on Tuesday the 17th October next. The proposal
was unanimously agreed to.
The business of the Assembly being now completed, the
Moderator proceeded to address the House.
In concluding a long and luminous Address, he said,—
lVe have great reason to bless God for the readiness of
our people to befriend and support the Free Church, and
for their generous offerings in its cause. The silver and gold
are the Lord’s, yet given by human hands, and that under
the impulse of human hearts, turned by His power whither—
soever He will. He works in man both to will and to do of
His good pleasure, and so prompts the desires, as well as
provides for the deeds, of christian generosity. His empire
reaches to the unseen spirit—to the world that is within, as
well as to the visible world around us. It is not only He
who fills the giver’s hand, but it is He who actuates the
giver’s heart; and while the merely secular philanthropist
but makes his request known unto man, it is our part in
everything, and more especially in this, to make our request
known unto God. And we take an humble and limited
view of our enterprise, if we confine it to a provision for
ejected ministers, or for the relief and sustentation of their
families. Our object, in all the fulness of its ultimate ac-
complishment, is not only to repair the desolation of our
sanctuary, but to replenish the long-neglected wastes, both
in town and country, of our beloved Scotland, Vie feel that


740
APPENDIX.



we should attempt great things, and should hope great things;
but most assuredly all our attempts will turn out to be abortive,
and all our ho es but the mockery of vision, unless we pray
for great things. In particular, we should pray that God
would so pour forth, of His own free and munificent Spirit,
as both to multiply and enlarge the liberalities of our people,
and thus bring them nearer to the standards of our beloved
Saviour’s example, who, “ though rich, yet for our sakes be—
came poor, that we through his poverty might be made rich.”
And here, who knows but the most illustrious of all con—
quests might be awaiting us, over even the deadliest of our
adversaries? Let us hope yet, in humble dependence on the
grace which cometh from above, that by the labours of a free,
and extended, and well supported ministry of the gospel, a
Christian, and so a quiet and orderly population, may at length
spring up under our hands; and that, by the exhibition of
a result so precious, prejudice and hostility might in time be
disarmed, and even our now most bitter opponents, when
they come to understand our principles and views, might at
length be reconciled to them. “7e are daily misunderstood
and misconstrued at present; but still let us cherish the
confidence, that when our ways please God, He will make
even our enemies be at peace with us. And there does seem,
even to the eye of sense and experience, as well as of faith,
a likely and leading avenue towards such a consummation.
If the great and urgent necessity of our present social con-
dition be‘ an elevation of character, and so of comfort,
throughout the general population—if it be becoming more
palpable every day that this is the alone panacea for all our
moral and all our political disorders,—-if, in the utter fruit-
lessness of every other expedient, it be at last perceived that
far the most efl'ectual agency for humanizing an else un-
governable multitude into contentment, and loyalty, and
peace, is the agency of well-taught schools and well-served
churches,--who knows but that with these, which are our
chief and chosen principles of action, we might, with the
Divine countenance, effect a good so manifest and undeniable
in the reclaimed families, even of districts before the most
outlandish, and the most unpromising, that the eyes even of
the most inveterate may at length be opened, and their
patriotism, if not their piety, incline them at the last to
tolerate, nay to befriend, nay, positively to aid us.
But these, without a blessing from on high, are vain and
earthly calculations; and to make them good, there must be
earnest, and united, and imploring prayer. In all our ways
God must be acknowledged and inquired after ; and, unless
by an answer of graciousness from the upper sanctuary, we
can expect no sound or stable prosperity to any undertaking.
Whether, then, individually, and in secret, or in the assem-
bled fellowships of the faithful, let the mighty engine of
prayer be put into constant and general operation. \Ve
would cast our cause on the supplications of the people, and
should esteem it the happiest presage of our coming enlarge-
ment, if we saw in the fervour and frequency of these, that
God had indeed been pleased to pour aspirit of grace. and of
supplication over our land. “ Only prove me, saith the Lord
of Hosts, and see whether I will not pour down a blessing
upon you." “ Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not
silence, and give Him no rest till He establish, and till He
make Jerusalem a praise in the earth.” “ Pray for the peace
of Jerusalem; they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be
within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces. For
my brethren and companions’ sakes, I will now say, peace
be within thee. Because of the house of the Lord our God,
I will seek thy good.”
The Moderator, then, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ,
the only Head and King of the Church, appointed the next
Assembly to be holden at Glasgow, on T uesday, the l'lth day
Qf October newt.
After engaging in prayer and praise, the Assembly broke
up about one o'clock in the morning. The Hall remained
crowded to the close, there being present betwixt three and
four thousand persons.
No. XX.
Abridged Proceedings of the Second General Assembly of the
Free Church of Scotland, held at Glasgow, October 17, 1843.
THE Assembly met at eleven o’clock forenoon. The doors
of the City Hall were thrown open to the public at an early
hour, and long before the commencement of Divine service,

the house was crowded in every part. The attendance
of ministers and elders was very numerous.
At five minutes past eleven, Dr Chalmers ascended the
platform, and took his seat in the Moderator’s chair, Dr
M‘Farlan of Greenock, and Dr Brown of Glasgow, being
seated on his right, and Dr Mackellar of Pencaitland on the
left. Dr Chalmers commenced the services by reading the
first five verses of the 46th Psalm, which were sung by the
congregation,—the largest, it may be safely be affirmed, that
ever participated in the worship of a General Assembly ]11
Scotland. The Rev. Doctor then offered up an impressive
prayer, after which the first and second verses of the 84th
Psalm were sung. Dr Chalmers took for his text Nehemiah
xi. 16, “ And Shabbethai and J ozabad, of the chief of the
Levites, had the oversight of the outward business of the
I-[ouse of God.” The words marked in italics formed the
subject of discourse, which was characterized by the massive
eloquence of the preacher, and was pre-eminently practical.
and admirably fitted for the occasion. At the close of the
discourse, the audience joined in singing a portion of the
147th Psalm.
Dr Chalmers intimated that, after the benediction had
been pronounced, the Assembly would be convened and con-
stituted, which was accordingly done, by solemn prayer.
The roll of the Assembly was then called over, and a
number of new commissions were given in.
Dr Chalmers then proposed for the acceptance of the
Assembly, as Moderator, Dr Thomas Brown of Glasgow—one
he said to whom belongs, in no common degree the character-
istics of that “wisdom which cometh down from above 3"’
being “first pure,” I could not fix upon any individual of
this whole number ‘who better exemplifies all the remaining
attributes of this heavenly wisdom.-—His is not only the
wisdom which qualifies him for such a charge ; but his is pre-
eminently and distinctively the “ meekness of wisdom.”
Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock.—-Moderator, I have been re-
quested to do that which after what you have uttered, and
after the cheers with which your proposal has been received,
I think is altogether unnecessary—that is, to second the
motion which you have now made for the election of Dr
Brown. I shall not add one word to what Dr Chalmers
has said on this subject, but only express the unmingled
delight and satisfaction with which I second the motion
for the election of my much loved and universally respected
friend.
Dr Brown having been unanimously elected, among other
things said,—I am undeserving of the honour you have con-
ferred upon me, and no man is more conscious of this than
I myself am; but since it is your will and your pleasure, _I
shall enter on these duties, looking to Him whose grace is
promised to be made sufficient for us, and whose strength is
perfected in our weakness. We meet not at this time for
the purpose of framing a new constitution for the Church of
Scotland. That constitution, under the guidance of the Spirit
of God, has been framed by the skill and the wisdom of our
forefathers—the men of eminence and the men of God of former
times,—our Protestant Reformers; and it existed before it
was brought into connexion with the State at all. By that
constitution we abide steadfastly. Our Standards, our Books
of Discipline, our Creed, our Confession of Faith, We retain in
all their original integrity. To them we have adhered—to
them we have appealed—by them we have sought to be tested
in all our recent contendings; but we were derided as men
of extravagant views, of presumptuous ideas. W e therefore,
this being the case, maintain that we are the Church of Scot-
land. Deprived of her civil privileges, and denuded as she
is of her State countenance, we have protested, and we do
protest,—and we will be borne out in the estimation of all
men that are unprejudiced and capable of judg1ng,—that in
our doctrine, and our polity, and our discipline, and our wor-
ship, we represent the Church of our fathers. \Ve are the
true Church that was originally recognised by the State— the
Church that could exist and did exist independent of the
State—the Church that was assumed by the State, never to
be tampered with in her righteous domain, and never to be
trammelled in the exercise of her spiritual functions.’ We
are the Church that has passed through great t1‘ibU1at10DS--
through fire and through water—the Church that has passed
through the hottest persecutions, and yet remains unscathed,
like the bush that was burning and was not consumed. Such
is the Free Church of Scotland; and this is its second holy
convocation—this is its second General Assembly.





APPENDIX.
741


Mr Dunlop said that as part of the business of to-morrow
they should hear the report of the Committee on the Five
Schemes of the Church; also the report of the Committee
on the India Mission; and in particular that eminent
servant of God, the Rev. Dr Malan, from Geneva. And
next, that they should receive the deputation from the
United Secession Church, which had been appointed at the
recent meeting of that Synod. _
The evening sederunt was occupied with devotional exer-
crses.
Wednesday, October 18.
The Assembly met at twelve o’clock, and was constituted
by prayer and praise.
After reading the minute of last sederunt,
Dr Chalmers said,—He had received acommunication from
Sir James Graham, acknowledging receipt of the Address
from last Assembly, which letter he would now hand to the
Moderator in order that it might be read.
The Clerk then read the following letter, which at the con-
clusion was received with much disapprobation :—
“ Whitehall, June 8, 1843.
“ SIR,——I have had the honour of receiving, and laying
before her Majesty, the address which bears your signature,
and which was transmitted by you to me.
“ I am unwilling needlessly to refer to the late secession
of a portion of the ministers from the Established Church of
Scotland: but the assurance of your continued loyalty has
been graciously received by her majesty; and the Queen
relies with satisfaction on the declaration which you make on
behalf of the ministers and elders of a church of Christ, that
you will be steadfast in your obedience to the civil power,
and that you regard that duty as demanded by the highest
authority, and as due to the peace and prosperity of the
nation.——I have the honour to be, Sir, your obedient Servant,
J. . Graham.
“ To the Rev. Dr Chalmers, Moderator, Edinburgh.”
Mr Carment of Rosskeen complained of the terms in which
the letter was couched, which he considered highly disrespect-
ful to the Church. And moved that it be not inserted in
the Assembly’s sederunt.
Dr. Mackellar said it was the usual practice to insert such
communications; and he hoped that, by showing 011 the pre-
sent occasion every feeling of deference and respect to the
quarter from which the present one professed to come, they
would exhibit their anxious desire to act on the principles
set before them by their Divine Lord and Master. He was
convinced that it would be most advisable and respectful to
allow the letter to be recorded in the usual way, which was
accordingly done.
The Schemes (f the Church.
An Interim arrangement of Synods and Presbyteries was
agreed on till Assembly, May, 1845. Dr Mackellar was
elected superintendent of the Five Schemes of the Church, in
room of Mr Alexander Dunlop, who resigned after having
read the report; but agreed to continue to act as legal
adviser of the Free Church as before.
Dr Gordon, after giving in the report of the India Mis-
sions, read a letter from Rev. Alexander Duff, D.D., dated
Calcutta, 7th August, 1843, stating that he and the other
missionaries had, with one heart and one mind, resolved to
separate from the Establishment, and cast in their lot with
the Free Protesting Church of Scotland. Dr \Vilson from
Bombay delivered a long and interesting speech,-relative to
the state of religion in India, and the voluntary but neces-
sary withdrawment of himself and his brethren from the
Establishment ; concluding with the admirable words of Dr
Cotton Mather of America.—“ In the meantime, North
Britain will be distinguished (pardon me if I use the term,
Goshenished.) by irradiations from heaven upon it of such a
tendency. There will be found a set of excellent men in
that reformed and renowned Church of Scotland, with whom
the most refined and extensive essays to do good will become
so natural that this whole world will fare the better for them.“
The Rev. Gentleman, after a few other remarks, concluded
by apologising for the length of his address.
Evening Seder-ant.
After devotional exercises, and some routine business, the
Assembly called for the

Addresses fi'om other Churches.
Dr Chalmers said—It is quite in keeping with the delight-
ful transactions, which I trust one and all of us shall witness
this evening, that I should communicate the fact of having
received, as the Moderator of the Free Church, a number of
formal addresses and resolutions from various bodies in
England and Ireland, as well as two or three from foreign
places. They amount, those I have received directly ad-
dressed to myself, to nineteen ; and there is one that has been
handed into the Clerk since we met; so that, altogether,
these addresses and resolutions, congratulatory of the move-
ment which has been adopted by the Free Church of Scot-
land, amount in number to twenty. I must say for one that I
have felt exceedingly delighted with these communications.
They congenialised very much with my own wishes for union,
and a mutual good understanding on the part of all those who
hold the Lord Jesus Christ as the Head, and who love him in
sincerity and in truth.
Mr Pitcairn, the Clerk, read, at the request of Dr Chal-
mers, the following communication from the Synod of United
Original Seceders :—
“ At Edinburgh, Davie Street Church, 16th Aug, 1843,
“ The Synod of United Original Seceders being met and
constituted, the Synod having spent considerable time in
deliberating on their duty in reference to the Free Protesting
Church, the following motion was made, seconded, and
agreed to ;—-‘ That in consequence of the late faithful contend-
ings of those now forming the Free Protesting Church of
Scotland, and particularly of their struggles in defence of the
Spiritual Independence of the Church, our relation is very
materially altered; therefore the Synod consider it to be
highly desirable, in order to the faithful discharge of their-
public duty,,to ascertain, as speedily as possible, the precise
nature of that relation; and for this purpose they appoint a
Committee to correspond with any Committee that the Free
Church, may appoint, to see whether there still exist Sufi.-
cient grounds for the Synod remaining separate, or whether,
by mutual explanations, we may not be able to remove any
obstacles to an honourable union.’
“ Extracted from the minutes of Synod, by
Robert Shaw, Syn. Clk.”
Dr Chalmers said many of these addresses state, with all frank~
ness and fidelity, that they are fromVoluntaries, and they hope
that in good time we, in the fullestand highest sense of the term,
will become Voluntaries also. I know not how far the Assem-
bly of the Free Church may go along with them ; but I confess
to you I cannot go their length; and I thought it fair and
upright to give them a candid expression of my opinion
on the subject. I have only to say, in conclusion, that,
although this difference may have come above board in the
course of that correspondence, let us remember that it is not
a difference which has in the least impaired the cordiality of
their addresses to us; and, therefore, the differences would
hear to the agreements no greater proportion than the
“ tithe” and the “ mint,” and the “ anise,” and the “ cum-
min,” bear to the “ weightier matters of the law.”
Dr Candlish said all the reply that is necessary for us to
address to our sympathising friends of every evangelical de-
nomination who favour the Voluntary principle, is that, as a
Church, the Voluntary principle is not a principle which
this Church sanctions—that it is not a principle ever
maintained by the Church of Scotland, and that we
are separating from the Establishment, testifying that
the State, in attempting to enslave the Church, as the
recompense of her endowing the Church, has sinfully
failed in its duty in two respects—sinned both in the attempt
to assert an Erastian supremacy over the Church and in fail-
ing to discharge the duty of countenancing and favouring the
Church, and leaving her at the same time in the enjoyment
of her spiritual freedom. But, while this is our answer to
our English friends, I think that the address of the Original
Secession Synod should be separated from the others, and
sent to the separate consideration either of the same or of a.
distinct and separate Committee. That address is one to
which we could not but listen with emotions of peculiar
solemnity and interest. Great as is our delight in receiving
the testimony of foreign Churches, and Churches in England
who claim to be, and I believe them to a large extent to be,
the representatives of the Nonconformists, still greater is our
delight on receiving, in respect of our recent movement, the



742
APPENDIX.










!
Mr Graham of Wishawtown said—You have already called
forth the sympathy of those who love the righteous cause of
Christ throughout the world. From brethren in America, India,
the continent of Europe, as well as in England and Ireland,
you have received the most cordial greetings; and you could well
afl‘ord to dispense with the expression of their feelings,however
friendly, by a body so inconsiderable as ours ; but we would
be doing injustice to ourselves, and to the cause for which
we have been contending, were we not to come forward and
bless you in the name of the Lord. ' ‘he Church of Scotland
has already proved a blessing to the nations, and the admira-
tion of the faithful in many lands ; and we trust, that though
greatly hindered and curbed in her high career by the rude
hand of Erastian restraint, she will yet more than realise
the virgin promise of her lofty character and wide-spread in-
fluence and renown, even though the powers of this world
should regard her with a jealous and a scowling eye. She
is a Presbyterian Church holding her constitution to be that
which the word of God prescribes, and not the mere device
of worldly expediency and human wisdom. She is distin-
guished for the orthodoxy of her symbols—her Confession
and Catechisms, in which the doctrines of salvation by grace
occupy so prominent a place, and on the footing of which
she extends the right hand of fellowship to all who are like-
minded, and welcomes them within her fold. She is a
Church acknowledging Christ as her only Head, taking His
word as her supreme and infallible standard, and asserting
the duty of the nations, as such, to yield a willing allegiance to
the reigning Redeemer, the Governor among the nations, and
the Prince of the kings of the earth. She is a Church in the
hands of whose office-bearers, distinct from the civil magis-
trate, the key of discipline is placed, that in the exercise of
it the precious may be separated from the vile.
Deputatz'on from the United Secession Synod.
From the United Secession Synod, there appeared as a
deputation the Rev. Drs. Brown, Heugh, King, and Harper,
and the Rev. Mr Struthers, and James Peddie, Esq., \\ .S.
From the address, Dr Harper read the following. “We can-
not but wish you well when we consider that your cause, in
common with that which we maintain, is the cause of Chris-
tian liberty. Taught by experience that the freedom of
Christ’s house could not be enjoyed by you under those con-
ditions which the temporal power was willing to concede,
led plainly to perceive that the alternative was presented to
you of relinquishing State alliance, or of bowing to State
dictation, you acted in the hour of trial with the self-denial and
decision which duty to our common Head demanded; and,
with a devotedness to which we unfeignedly do honour, you
counted those things that were gain to you loss for Christ.
“Already the pleasant fruits of your emancipation are felt by
many in that spirit of co-operation which is drawing together
the friends of religion in our land. That the bonds of
Christian fellowship should ever have been broken we have
often and much deplored. But the light now shineth, and
better days draw nigh. The intercourse of Christian brother—
hood is begun ; and, from the measures in progress, we
earnestly anticipate results that shall be beneficial and grati-
fying to all.
“ It was with pleasure this Synod received, from a Com-
mittee of your number, appointed for the above purpose, pro-
posals of a plan whereby denominations may jointly prose-
cute this labour of love without interference or collision. To
the spirit of the arrangement we respond with unhesitating
and entire cordiality, and trust that on both sides a sincere
wish will be manifested to give the proposed regulations
effect.
“ How nearly the spiritual independence of the Church is
connected with her spiritual purity, you are, dear brethren,
aware. To renounce secular alliance that we may resist
secular dictation, what is it but to protest. in the name of
Him who redeems his people from all iniquity, that we shall
be independent that we may be pure P
“ In the name and by the authority of the United Associate
Synod, (Signed) “ THOMAS STRUTHERS, Moderator.
“Edinburgh, 11th October, 1843.”
After Mr Struthers had addressed the Assembly
Dr Heugh said—Moderator, I was delighted to hear
yesterday, from the lips of the honoured individual who filled
testimony of the body in this land which can most truly claim
to be the representatives of the mind of the Erskines, who
originated the Secession. And I rejoice in that testimony,
both on account of the body from which it comes, and the
principles on which it proceeds—principles of perfect practical
agreement with us in all the fundamental views that pertain
to the union between Church and State ; and in respect,
moreover, to the end to which the point, namely, the blessed
anticipation of a complete incorporating union—the mingling
of their testimony with the more recent witness-bearing of
the Free Church of Scotland. Considering these things—
the body from which it proceeds, the principles set forth in
it, and the end to which it points—I shall, therefore, with
permission of the Assembly, move that this particular docu-
ment be separated from the others, and remitted, either to
the same Committee, or, to mark our sense of its importance,
to a distinct Committee of the House—The latter suggestion
was agreed to.
Deputatz'on from Geneva.
The Rev. Dr Malan was next heard as a deputation from
the Church of Geneva. Dr Henderson said in reply, that
Dr Malan had not flattered them, and hoped that all would
lay to heart the fatherly admonitions that had been addressed
to them. He concluded by proposing the thanks of the
Assembly to Dr Malan for his expressions of Christian
sympathy, and his excellent inculcation of Christian fidelity;
which was accordingly done by the Moderator, in a very
solemn and impressive manner. The scene presented was
indeed of a most touching description. Two venerable fathers
of the Church of Christ, whose grey hairs bore testimony to
their long service in the cause of their Divine Master, were
seen extending to each other the hand of Christian follow-
ship, and, as it were, representing in their own persons the
union of principle and sentiment between the Free Conti-
nental Churches and the Free Church of Scotland. After
conversing with apparently deep feeling for a brief space, the
Moderator intimated Dr \lalan’s request that the Assembly
would oin in prayer to God on his behalf; and he accord-
ingly called on Dr Mackellar, who offered up a most solemn
and appropriate prayer.
Deputatzon from the Reformed Presbyterian Synod.
Professor Symington, Mr Graham of Vl’ishawtown, and Mr
Nelson of Rothsay, appeared as a deputation from the
Reformed Presbyterian Synod.—“ It is unnecessary,” said the
address, “to say that we highly approve of the scriptural
principles upon which your recent proceedings have been
founded, when, so successfully, in our view, so far as scrip-
tural argument is concerned, you made the glorious truth of
the supremacy of Jesus Christ to bear against the invasion of
the rights of the Christian people, and against Erastian en-
croachments upon the independent jurisdiction of the Church
of Christ. We admire the high Christian principle and
noble magnanimity of your late conduct in taking your pro-
test, and in your subsequent act of separation from the Esta-
blished Church of Scotland ; and we have observed with high
approbation the calm Christian dignity and order with which
you have carried your protest and separation into effect.
We rejoice in the reverential deference which has been paid
to the authority of scriptural truth, and in the devout homage
which has been rendered to the Lord Jesus Christ as King in
Zion, Prince of the kings of the earth, in conducting your
recent pleadings. And, now that you stand in the liberty
wherewith Christ has made you free, we expect of you, with
some measure of confidence, faithfully to assert and vindicate
the rights of the Christian people to choose their pastors and
rulers, against intrusion and patronage in every form ; and
that now, under the authority and by the grace of Jesus
Christ, who has the key of the house of David, you will
faithfully exercise your free spiritual jurisdiction in the pro-
bation and ordination of ministers and other ofljcers, and in
the admission and exclusion of members; and that, giving
forth a faithful testimony in behalf of the doctrines of the
glorious gospel of the blessed God, you will continue your
efforts to extend that gospel to every corner of our beloved
land, to the glory of the Redeemer and the salvation of im-
mortal souls."
Professor Symington added. that the body which he re-
presented had appointed a Committee to correspond on the
subject of union, and he had no doubt that good results would
in the end issue from what was now doing in Scotland.
that chair before you, that you already reckon 470 ministers
in this Assembly, and that you have been joined by 130
preachers, making in all 600 Christian labourers. It is my


APPENDIX.
743

fervent prayer,—and I am sure I am only expressing the
desires of my ecclesiastical associates,-—that every one of
these brethren may he a man of God in truth,—-that they
may all be workmen not needing to be ashamed, rightly
dividing the word of truth. It is not only honouring to
yourselves,—it is an honour to our country,—an honour to
this age,—above all, an honour to the truth and its Divine
Author,-—that 470 ministers of the gospel, without consulting
with flesh and blood, have cut the ties of a long and cherished
ecclesiastical connexion, and have sacrificed emolument,
status, and much beside that was dear to them, rather than
sacrifice their own conscientious convictions, and their duty to
their great Lord.
Dr King said that the Church is a spiritual society,-—that
Christ is its sole King and Head,—that none but his people
are its true members, and none but His Word its charter and
statute-bool<,-—all these are doctrines which you and we are
equally determined to hold and to avow, Then look at the
sameness of our actual positions. We inhabit the same
favoured and beloved land; we have the same encourage-
ments and discouragements,—the same coadjutors and oppo—
nents,—the same motto of Spirituality and Independence in-
scribed upon our banners,-—and that Lord, who, as Lord, is
both ours and yours, points to the same land to be occupied,
and says to the one and the other of us, “ Go ye up and
possess it.” It will not be understood that I wish to pre-
cipitate unions. I do not think we are yet ready for incor-
poration. The event, I believe, will come; and I think we
may take sin and shame to ourselves that it is not nearer.
But as we cannot unite at present, whatever may be the
blame attaching to the impossibility, all I suggest is, that we
keep the end in view, and beware of committing one act, or
even uttering one word, that would either retard or embitter
the happy consummation.
Dr Brown of Edinburgh stated that they had come to
give utterance to their feelings, and to state that they regarded
the Free Church with admiration and cordial love. They
have a place in our hearts next to the body of Christians
with whom we are more closely connected, and we look
forward with an earnest desire and a confident hope to the
period, which we think is not likely to be a distant one,
when the two bodies will be closely united. Let us instantly
keep to mind, then, that the eyes of our Lord are upon us;
and if at the close of the day he should ask, why dispute ye
by the way, let it be exemplified that our great dispute has
been which shall be most active and successful in promoting
the honour and glory of our common Lord and Master.
Dr. Makellar then moved the following resolution :—
“ The General Assembly acknowledge, with cordial satisfac—
tion, the congratulations of the Reformed Presbyterian Synod
and of the United Associate Synod, communicated by their
deputations,and the assurance of their brotherly sympathy and
regard, and resolve to appoint deputations to attend the next
meetings of these Synods respectively, in order to express
to them the kind and cordial regard which this Assembly
entertains toward them, and their earnest desire to co-
operate with them and other evangelical commnnions in
advancing the kingdom of their common Lord; and they
instruct their Moderator to communicate to the deputations
by whose presence they have been favoured, the high gratifi-
cation derived by this Assembly from the intercourse which,
on the part of the Reformed Presbyterian Synod and the
United Associate Synod, has now been opened with them—-
an intercourse which it will be the earnest desire of the
Assembly to cultivate in a spirit of Christian charity and
brotherhood.”
The Moderator then conveyed the thanks of the Assembly
to the deputations.
Thursday, October 19.
The Assembly met in the early part of the day in private
deliberation on the financial affairs of the Church.
Evening Sederunt.
After some announcements, the Assembly called for the
report of the Commissioners to the Irish Presbyterian Church,
as also the deputation from that Church.
Mr Makgill Crichton introduced the deputation.
Mr Goudy of Strabane said—In presenting to you, Sir, at
this time our commission from the Irish General Assembly,
there is one source of embarrassment which some supposed
our brethren who addressed you in May last, in the Hall of
I Canonmills, would feel—but from which, we at least, the

deputation, are completely relieved—I mean the embarrass-
ment of doubt as to whether or not we appear before the
supreme judicatory of the ancient Church of Scotland. In
truth the Irish Presbyterian Church never had any doubt on
this point; and she has now (if I may speak like an Irishman)
less than ever. The movements of the last few months have
been quite sufficient to remove any remnants of scepticism
that she might have had. She has had evidence from two
distinct sources. She has had it in the conduct of the Esta-
blishment you have left. And I maintain that the doings of
that body ever since the disruption, whether in relation to
the Legislature or its own adherents, or sister churches, or
the protesting brethren who have left—have stripped it of all
disguise, and put it out of the power of any honest man to
lay his hand on his heart, and say that, established though it
be, it is the Church of Scotland. But the Presbyterians of
Ireland have had another source of evidence in the move—
ments of your own Free Protesting Church since the memor-
able and hallowed 18th May. They have witnessed the
ardent and untiring efforts you have been since making to
uphold and extend those principles to which on that day you
bore so splendid a testimony. They have seen the great
body of the godly people of Scotland adhering to you in the
face of all opposition, and with unprecedented liberality
pouring in their gifts into your treasury. They have seen
the evangelical Churches of Christendom regarding it as an
honour to fraternise with you. They have seen the mission-
aries from distant lands hailing you as brethren, and refus~
ing to be separated from you. These things our Church ac-
cepts as so many additional testimonies borne in your behalf
by your great King and Head. These she appeals to, and
relies on as tending to ratify the verdict she pronounced in
May last, and which she now pronounces again. That ver-
dict was, and is, that however men in power may frown upon
your principles, you only does she own, and with you only
will she hold fellowship as the true and ancient and honoured
Church of Scotland. You stand in the Thermopylae of
Christendom. Persecution has sought to crush you, but it
has only “ dragged into fame,” and rivetted on you the atten-
tion and the admiration of the world. Persevere in that
great cause which you have espoused, for it is the noblest of
all causes, and its assured destiny is yet to triumph. Remem-
ber your ancestral renown—think of the cloud of witnesses
who have gone before, and who are beckoning you to follow.
Call to mind that the Christian world is now looking to you
as the selected champions of the truth, on this ancient field
where its battles have been so often fought and won; and
that the memory of what you are now doing and suffering in
behalf of great principles is yet to go abroad into all lands,
and down throughout all time, to quicken every generous
impulse, to inspire lofty and heroic purposes, and to feed and
nourish in all hearts the immortal flame of liberty. Ani-
mated by these thoughts, may you continue to maintain that
“ good confession” which you have already “ witnessed before
many witnesses.H In the midst of all your painful trials and
sacrifices for conscience’ sake may you rejoice in feeling that
you "are partakers of Christ’s sufferings, and when at last
his glory shall be revealed. may you be glad also with ex-
ceeding joy." In the name of the Presbyterian Church of
Ireland, we “ speak” unto you, fathers and brethren, “ that
ye go forward.”
Mr Molyneux of Lame said,—Ycu are jure cliuz'no the
Church of Scotland—you are, by the almost unanimous voice
of the Christian people, the Church of Scotland; and as such,
we, the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, regard you—and in
the language of the Commission, by whose authority I appear
this day before you, you are to us the parent Church of Scot-
land. ‘We could not but sympathise with you in your con-
tendings for the same liberty which we enjoy, and for the
casting aside of that yoke of bondage which we never bore,
but the character of whose galling despotism we can very
well appreciate and comprehend. But when in endeavouring
to maintain unimpeached the allegiance which you owe to
Christ, the sole King and Head of the Church, we saw your
venerable ministers dragged before the civil courts—when we
saw them fined, and threatened, and the whole torrent of
official insolence poured out against them—we would have
been undeserving of the name of Presbyterian—we must have
riven every emotion of gratitude from our bosoms—we must
have quenched within us the fire of the chivalry of our native
land—had we not sympathised with you in your suffering=


744
APPEIN DIX.



—-had we not cherished feelings of the most intense interest
with respect to your trials—and had we not made use of
every effort within our power in order to avert the calamity
and disruption by which your Church was impeded. 'We
come not to visit the scenes which have been immortalised
in undying song by your poets and your bards—we come not
to gaze upon the birth-places of your heroes and your philoso-
phers, or stand beside the spot where their earthly taber-
nacles are commingling with their kindred dust—we come
not to see what your genius has achieved in architecture, in
mechanics, and in arts—we come not for a nobler purpose
still—to gaze upon the scenes where your persecuted fathers
lived and fought, or died and triumphed -—but we come
to behold an exhibition of moral sublimity, to our feelings
more glorious than them all, an Assembly consisting of almost
500 ministers of the everlasting Gospel, who have left houses
and homes, and dignities and emoluments, at the call of con-
science—an Assembly which can boast of some of the mighti—
est intellects of the age—and to behold a Christian people
who, casting aside the narrow reflections of our common
humanity, have consecrated of their means, not hundreds or
thousands, but hundreds of thousands, for the maintenance,
unshackled by human power, of the liberty wherewith Christ
has made them free. Your refusal to accede to the principle,
that you are bound to ordain whosoever may be presented to
a congregation, no matter how the people may resist- his in-
trusion, has been called rebellion; but it is no rebellion against
“ the powers that be'H to maintain an allegiance to the King
of heaven. T his,however, is but your dark and cloud day; soon
will the shadows pass away, when your Church shall appear be-
fore all her enemies, “fair as the moon. clear as the sun, and
terrible as an army with banners.” You are now in the
midst of the storm andthe hurricane; but as, when the tempest
has swept away before it the gloom which darkens our hori-
son, we sometimes see far away in the distant realms of
space some fleecy cloud sleeping in sunshine and repose, so
will your troubles be swept away, and peace, and calm, and
prosperity gladden your spirits as you bask in the sunshine
of Heaven’s favour, or rejoice in the manifestation of your
Redeemer’s love.
The thanks of the Assembly were then voted to the Irish
gentlemen, and a deputation appointed to attend the next
ordinary meeting of the presbyterian Church in Ireland.
Report on the Highlands.
Dr Candlish at great length detailed the persecution, the
vexatious and harassing tyranny, with which the adherents
of the Free Church had been visited in the county of Suther-
land, and other neighbouring counties, by refusing to them
the exercise of the right of private judgment, and of the
liberty to worship God according to their own consciences,
none daring to make them afraid, He was followed by Dr
M‘Kay of Dunoon, Dr M‘Farlan of Greenock, Mr Car-
ment, Dr M‘Donald of Ferrintosh, and others, all of whom
concurred in bearing testimony to the religion, piety. and
moral good conduct of the inhabitants of these northern
counties. This long and interesting report was wound up by
Mr Guthrie moving that a collection for the suffering people
of Sutherland take place throughout the Church, on the last
Sabbath of November; and at the same time expressing a
wish “ that it would be a collection the sound of which would
reach the ears of the Duke of Sutherland. and make him to
understand that the cause of the people of Sutherland, was the
cause of the people of all Scotland."—The motion was agreed
to.
Friday, ‘October '20.
The Assembly met this morning at eleven o’clock, and
was constituted by praise and prayer.
At this Sederunt it was agreed to translate Mr Fairbairn
from Salton to Dunfermline; to continue Mr M‘Naughtan
in his charge at Paisley; and to remove Mr Irving from
Abercorn to Falkirk,—The Moderator announced that he
had that morning received intelligence that the Mission-
aries at the Madras station, had sent in their adherence to
the Free Church.
Evening Sederunt.
The Assembly met at half-past seven.
The early part of the evening was occupied by Dr Welsh
reading the Report of the Assembly’s Committee on Edu-
cation, which was divided into four departments: viz., the

College; Elementary Schools; Sabbath Schools; Musical
Education. Upon the first of these, says the Report,—~The
Committee considered it a high privilege to be able to ap—
point, to preside, and to give prelection in theology in the
new institution an individual whose name is identified with
the Church; and as John Knox took the lead in the first
Reformation, Alexander Henderson in the second. Thomas
Chalmers stands forth as representative in the third Reform-
ation. Dr \Yelsh was named Professor of Divinity and
Church History. Dr Duncan’s unrivalled attainments in
Hebrew and Oriental Literature, connected with the rare art
of kindling to enthusiasm the grateful student, secured him
the nomination to the Hebrew Chair. The general voice of
the Church and country indicated Dr Cunningham for a
fourth Chair; and the vast learning of Dr Black, his mas-
tery over languages, his virtues not less conspicuous than his
talents, presented him as a proper person to be called to a
Chair—and he was appointed Professor at Aberdeen, where
his labours will greatly increase the interests of the Free
Church.
Mr M‘Donald’s scheme, for raising £50,000 to aid in the
erection of 500 schools for the Free Church of Scotland,
was thus explained by himself. Each school to be aided to
the extent of £100.
Plan of Contribution.
Class Con. Individ. Con.
500 persons giving Is. to each of500 schools yields £12500, being £25 0 0
1000 giving ‘ .. 12,500 1210 9
‘2000 giving 3d..." . 12,500 6 5 0
6000 giving 1d... .. . 12,500 2 1 8
9-500 giving at the above rates... .. .... yields £50,000
Conditions of Subscription.
1. N 0 part of the subscription to be taken up unless the
whole .£ 50,000 has been obtained.
2. The Subscription to be taken up in instalments, as the
schools are built or building, but each individual may have
it in his option to extend his Contribution over the space of
five years, paying one fifth annually.
Deputation to England.
Mr Tweedie, as Convener of the Committee on Deputa~
tions to England, said, that the Committee had two objects
in view: first, to mention what had already been done ; and,
secondly, to suggest what it may yet be advisable to do.
With regard to the past, their reception had been such as to
make it obvious, that the principles of the Free Church had
already taken a firm hold of their minds, and secured the
cordial approbation of the English Christians. The sum re-
alised for the funds of the Church, in consequence of the
different deputations, it was supposed, might amount to
about £20,000.
The plan for the future, which might be adopted with ad-
vantage, appears to be :—
“ First, Sanction generally the division of England into
sections or districts, according to the annexed scheme.
“ Second, Appoint ministers to visit each of these to ex-
pound the principles and make collections for the funds of
the lfree Church, according to printed regulations prepared
for their guidance; and, to carry out this proposal, it would
be requisite to name a Committee of Assembly to select
ministers to go to England.
“ Third, Laymen should also be named to accompany the
ministers, to proceed with the ministers, or from the Assem-
bly, to the Churches in l'fngland.
Mr Edwards, Professor of Theology to the Welsh Calvinis-
tic Methodists, was introduced by Mr Begg. The Rev. gent-
leman said, he had little to say as to their form of church pol-
ity. Their great aim was to bring souls to Christ. But they
found that they could not effectually unite in that work, or
preserve the efficiency of their communion, without paying
attention to the character and conduct of their ministers, and
the people who composed the association. They formed
themselves into small bodies with this object; and, in follow-
ing out their plan, they went on till one day they found to their
surprise that they were Presbyterians. This system deve-
loped itself naturally into that form of church polity. and
they continued to exercise that form still. These people
had carried on their labours quietly, perhaps too quietly;
but they had sent him here, because they had heard of their
disputings, and also that God wash the midst of them.


APPENDIX.
745


And after what he had seen and heard, since he came to that
Assembly, might he not take up the words of Nicodemus,
and say—“No man can do the miracles which thou doest
except God were with him." They heard that Christ was
afflicted in Scotland, and they sent him to visit them.
He left his little flock behind him in Wales, and came to
see the bush that burned in the north part of the island, and
yet was not consumed. And he had seen it. He saw it
now before him; and could almost imagine that from the
midst of the fire came the voice of the Lord God Almighty,
proclaiming, “I have seen the affliction of my people,
and I have heard their groaning, and am come down
to deliver them.” They knew that they were reviled and
persecuted, as their own fathers in \Vales were, and there-
fore they sympathised with them. One reason why the
calumnies of their enemies produced no impression on their
minds was, that the very same accusations were brought
against Christ himself, and that the same answer which he
gave was sufficient for us also-~“ My kingdom is not of this
world.” Because it was not of this world, it could not inter-
fere with the kingdoms of this world, and ought not to be
governed by the kingdoms of this world. This they (the
Free Church) had said not by words only but by deeds;
and for this they were honoured, by those who sent him, from
their inmost souls; they saw that they had taken the right
side—that they stood in the middle between the living and
the dead to stay the plague—the worldly policy and carnal
expediency that infested our land. They had taken the field
in a great controversy between truth and error, between the
Lamb of God and the Man of Sin; but truth is great and
will prevail.
The Moderator, (Dr M‘Farlane,) in name of the As-
sembly, then conveyed formally a vote of thanks to Mr
Edwards.
Saturday, October '2l.
The Assembly met this day in private_.
M onday, October 23.
The Assembly met to-day, at eleven o’clock, in the East
Regent Street Free Church, for private deliberation; and at
one o’clock adjourned to the City Hall—Dr Brown, the
Moderator, in the Chair. The two first verses of the 63rd
Psalm were sung, and the Court constituted with the usual
devotions.
After the Assembly had disposed of some cases of com-
peting calls ; vote of thanks to the Members of the House of
Commons, and the Marquis of Breadalbane; a reference
from the Presbytery of Dalkeith was taken up, in the case
of the Free Congregation of that Town having given a call
to a minister of the Irish Presbyterian Church. After a long,
but friendly deliberation, in which several of the members
delivered their sentiments at great length, it was unanim-
ously resolved that :—
“ The General Assembly, with every desire to meet the
wishes and promote the welfare of the congregation of Dal-
keith, decline to entertain their proposal, implying as it does
a departure from the rules of the Church, in a particular
instance, before the general question which it raises has been
fully considered; and further, the General Assembly, con~
sidering the above case, together with the applications of a
similar nature from ministers and probationers of other
Presbyterian Churches, remit the entire subject to a Com~
mittee, with instructions to confer with the said Churches,
and report to the general Assembly in May.”
Mr Sym of Edinburgh then read the
Report of Colonial Committee.
Communication had been opened with the Synods of Can~
ada, Miramichi, Nova Scotia, and New South Wales, and
in general with all ministers connected with the Establish-
ment in the colonies and in foreign parts, referring to the
disruption of the Church and the causes which led to it, and
expressing the unabated interest which this Church took in
the spiritual welfare of their countrymen abroad, and their
readiness to continue the operations which had hitherto
been carried on, in sending out ministers to destitute local-
ities.

l
Report on Jewish Missions.
In absence of Dr Keith, Convener of the Committee, Dr
Candlish, as Convener of the Acting Committee, gave a
verbal report of the state of the Jewish Mission, since the
disruption. After much interesting and encouraging in-
formation connected with this important subject, from Dr
Candlish and Dr ‘Wilson of Bombay, it was moved by Mr
Elder, that the interim report made by the Rev. Dr Cand~
lish, on the part of the Committee on the Conversion of the
Jews, be approved; that the Assembly have heard with
great joy, and with feelings of unfeigned gratitude to God, of
the adherence to the Free Church of all the missionaries the
Church of Scotland had sent to seek after the lost sheep of
Israel, and of the promptitude and liberality with which the
members of the Free Church have supplied the necessary
funds for the Jewish scheme; and further, that the thanks of
this house be given to the Rev. Dr Keith, Convener of the
Committee, for his great and manifold services to this cause;
and that during his absence on the Continent, the Rev. Dr
Duncan, professor of Oriental Languages to the Free Church,
be appointed to act as Convener pro tempore of the Jewish
Committee.
Evening Sederunt.
The Assembly having been constituted by devotional
8X61‘CISGS,——
Mr J. W. Hamilton read the Report of Building Com-
mittee, which was subdivided into two branches ; viz. ,—
l. General @State and Prospects of Building Operations.
2. State and Prospects of Central Building Fund.
Dr Chalmers read a long and elaborate, but lucid Report
from the Financial Committee. Mr Campbell of Monzie
then moved the following resolution :—
“ The General Assembly having heard the reports of the
Building and Financial Committees, given in by their re-
spective Conveners, resolved as follows :—-
“ That the Assembly approve of these reports; highly
commend the wisdom, zeal, and fidelity, which have dis-
tinguished the Building and Financial Committees in pro~
secuting the great work intrusted to their care.
“ That they regard with humble and heartfelt gratitude to
Almighty God the very encouraging progress already made
towards the providing of laces of public worship for the
numerous adherents of the ree Church of Scotland, and of
funds for the sustentation of the ministry.
“That the thanks of this House be given to these Com-
mittees, and especially to their respective Conveners, the
Rev. Dr. Chalmers, and to John Hamilton, Esq.
“ That the Assembly approve of the regulations and re-
solutions agreed to in the Committee of the whole House,
and now reported, in regard to the administration of the
funds for supplying ordinances, and enact in terms thereof ;
and the Assembly return their thanks to the Committee on
Regulations, and to Alex. Dunlop, Esq., their Convener.”
The MODERATOR then addressed Dr Chalmers nearly as
follows:-—It falls to me to convey to you, Sir, the thanks
of this Assembly, but before doing so, I cannot refrain from
expressing to you what we have felt in regard to that won-
derful and overpowering address you have delivered to us
this evening. I wish I could adequately express the feelings
we entertain as to our obligations to you as a Church. Those
feelings are strong and deep, and will be lasting. I am per-
suaded that, long after you shall have gone to your rest,—and
while the Church of Scotland, the Free Protesting Church of
Scotland exists, and while Scotland exists as a nation, your
name will he remembered with gratitude and affection—your
name will be coupled with those of Knox, and Melville, and
Henderson, and other worthies of former days, who were the
props of society and the pillars of our Zion ; and as'wassaid
by your respected colleague the other night, that while Knox
was the author of the First Reformation, and Henderson of
the Second, you may be recognised as founder of the Third.
God has endowed you with supereminent talents, and fitted
you to fill any situation in life; but you have devoted all the
energies of your mind to Christ the Lord, and have counted
all things but loss for Christ, and you have held it to be your
greatest honour and glory to promote the cause of the
Redeemer in your day and generation. W'e mark the wisdom
of God in the instruments he raises up to effect his own pur-
poses in the world. Instruments are often used by him, which,
On the motion of Dr Buchanan, it was resolved that the thanks of the Assembly should be conveyed, through the 1
Moderator, to Mr Sym and the Committee, for their valu~
able and interesting report.
1 according to the estimation of this world, may be supposed
pr
DB
___’
746
APPENDIX.


not to be the fittest. He has often “ chosen the weak things
of this world to confound the mighty ;” yet he sometimes
departs from this. Moses, while he was a man of God, was
also skilful in all the learning of the Egyptians. Luther
and Knox, while men of eminent piety, were also men of
great learning; and, though the Reformation in their days
may be traced so far to the times in which they lived, still it
lay with them to stir the embers and fan the flames that had
been kindled ; and but for them the cause of the Reformation
might have been checked, if not overthrown altogether. At
all periods God raises up men of prayer, men of thought,
men of foresight, and men of talent, and skill, and fortitude,
to carry on his own purposes—to devise, and to plan, and
execute for the good of mankind; and so it is in the present
case. Your life has been an invaluable one—full of good
deeds and mighty enterprise. I will not advert to the vari-
ous duties to which you have been called in the providence
of God-- I will not advert to the eloquence and power with
which you have addressed the consciences of mankind.
Many have been roused by your instrumentality, and many
are now in a better world who can trace the commencement
of all their religious feelings, and their being brought to
Christ, to your addresses to their hearts. Through various
struggles have you laboured for the cause of truth, and for the
extension of the gospel; and but your efforts many parts of the
country would have displayed nothing but a moral wilderness.
And then when our Church stood in need of your aid -when
she was in danger--by your voice and pen you pled her cause.
You have knocked at the door of the noble and the great,
and the senators and statesmen of the land; and had your
counsels been listened to, happy would it have been for them-
selves, and happy for the nation. Forecasting what has
taken place, you devised that plan now in operation—you
were ready with it. It was concocted and fit for acting upon,
and by it we trust the Church will be freed from all her
difficnlties and hardships. But for this we would have been
at our wits‘ end, like a vessel on the ocean without sail or
rudder; but you have guided her on her course, and she will
yet reach the harbour of safety. But, Sir, you cannot for ever
be spared—you will retire from your active labours. My
dear Sir, our toils will soon be over; our cares, and tribula—
tion, and distresses, will soon come to an end; and oh, it is
a pleasant thing to look beyond the valley of tears, through
the mists and the shadows, to that rest which remaineth for
the people of God. ‘T is the prayer of the Church—‘tis the
prayer of every good man—that every blessing may be your
possession which your heart would wish, and that you and
yours may be interested in the covenant ratified by the blood
of Christ, and in all things well ordered and sure—that your
end may be peaceful, and that your after state may be happi-
ness. May the Lord bless you and keep you, and cause the
light of his countenance to shine upon you. The Moderator,
then turning to Mr Hamilton, begged him to consider what
had been addressed to Dr Chalmers as addressed also to him,
in so far as, considering his exertion and position, it could be
held to apply. If the Churchhad been indebted to him for
nothing more than the distinct and valuable communication
which had been brought under their notice that night, he
was well entitled to their thanks ; but they knew well, also,
with what power, wisdom, and skill, he had at all times pled
the cause of the Church, and he was sure the Assembly joined
him in the prayer that he might be long and abundantly
blessed in any sphere in which the providence of God might
place him.
The Assembly then adjourned at twelve o’clock.
Tuesday, October 24.
The Assembly met at eleven o’clock, and was constituted
by praise and prayer.
Report on Election of Ofice-bearers.
Dr Cunningham read the Report on Election of Office-
bearers, after he had finished, a short but smart debate took
place upon the point, “ ought females to have a right to vote
in the election of Office-bearers?” The question was, how-
ever, left open, and the following decision was unanimously
come to by the Assembly:— “ The Assembly generally approve
of the report—Direct it to be remitted to Presbyteries, that
they may send up their opinion thereon to next General
Assembly, and enact ad interim in terms thereof."

Call to the Rev. .Mr Guthrie.
The Assembly next took up the case of a call to Mr
Guthrie of Edinburgh from the congregation now forming in
connexion with the Free Church, in Edward Street, Portman
Square, London. After having duly considered the prayer
of the petition, and a letter thereanent from the Rev. Thomas
Guthrie, and heard commissioners from his congregation and
kirk-session, the General Assembly did not feel themselves
warranted to order his translation from his present charge,
as prayed for in the London Memorial.
Deputation from the London Presbytery.
The Assembly then received the deputation from the
London Presbytery, from which an address was read, expres-
sive of their sympathy in the principles and contendings of
the Free Church. After which the General Assembly ac-
knowledged with heartfelt gratitude, the expression of sym-
pathy on the part of their brethren in London, report their
earnest anxiety for the full supply of Christian ordinances
in the metropolis in connexion with the Free Church, and
request their Moderator to convey the thanks of the House
to the members of the deputation.
Missionary Presbyteries.
Mr Alexander Dunlop called attention to a proposal which
was brought before the Assembly by the Committee on
Foreign Missions, with Dr. Gordon at their head, in reference
to the exercise of presbyterial functions by the foreign mis-
sionaries.
The motion was unanimously agreed to.
Sabbath Observance.
Mr Fairbairn of Salton read an interesting report of the
Sabbath Observance Committee :—
Mr Macfarlan of Renfrew moved the adoption of the re-
port, and expressed his regret that it had been brought up
on the last day of the Assembly. He only wished to state,
in a single sentence, that he approved of the entire report.
Collections jbr Sutherlandshire, (go.
A Committee was appointed to carry out the Hon. Fox
Maule’s resolutions, and to prepare an address in reference
to the collections to be made for the people of Sutherland.
A Committee was farther appointed to consider and report
to next Assembly, recommending such alterations as may
appear to be necessary in the standing orders of the House,
and in the form of procedure now in use in the different
courts of the Church; with instructions also to make such
alterations in the formula as the altered circumstances of the
Church seem to require. The amended formula, after being
approved of by the Commission of Assembly, to be trans-
mitted to the inferior judicatories.
A Committee was also appointed to draw up a Testimony
by the Church, stating the grounds of its separation from the
Establishment.
Deputations were appointed to the Irish Assembly, Re-
formed Presbyterian Synod, United Secession Synod, 8w.
Bicentenary of Westminster Assembly.
Dr. Candlish reported verbally from the Committee ap-
pointed at last Assembly to make arrangements for the com-
memoration of the \Vestminster Assembly. On this occa-
sion he said, I have simply to state that the meeting did not
pass away without some practical effect. A Committee was
appointed to consider how the object of co-operation among
evangelical Christians could be best promoted—Another
object to which he called the attention of the Assembly, was
the prosecution of the cause of education. This subject has
been repeatedly before the Committee, and certainly it does
seem a subject which may unite all ranks and classes of
evangelical Christians in one united effort. Accordingly, a
plan has already been proposed, so far as Edinburgh is con-
cerned, for establishing schools throughout that city, in con-
nexion with the associated evangelical communions ;—
schools which will be open to all evangelical teachers and
scholars, and in which the standards held by evangelical
Christians shall be carefully taught. In particular, we have
been anxious to support and maintain an effective Normal
School in Edinburgh. The Assembly is aware, through the
Report of the Educational Committee, that the Normal Sem-
inary has been virtually transferred from the Established to
the Free Church. I say the Normal Seminary, for I take the



APPENDIX.
747


school, to consist not of the building, but the master and the
scholars. The building remains with the Establishment; but
the building is not the school, any more than the stone and
lime will constitute the church. The real school is where
the master and scholars are found, and these are found in the
spacious apartments provided by the Free Church. These
regulations were submitted to the United Secession Synod,
and substantially received their concurrence. We may re—
joice, therefore, in the hope that we and the other Churches
with which we are now in communion will be enabled to
act on this system of planting churches so as to prevent mis-
understanding and collision, and promote brotherly love and
brotherly intercourse. I am glad to intimate that two
Committees have been appointed by the United Secession
Church, one to sit in Edinburgh and one in Glasgow, for the
purpose of holding converse with our Committee on Educa-
tion or other Committees of our Assembly, with regard to
the objects in which we can co-operate. ‘We cannot be
behind-hand with our brethren of that Church. \Ve should
rejoice to meet their advances, and without any sacrifice of
our principles, agree to promote along with them these great
objects of Christian usefulness. I cannot doubt but you will
appoint a Committee to meet with them, and with other
churches that may be desirous of holding intercourse with
them, for the good of our common country and the advance-
ment of our common Christianity.
The motion was unanimously and cordially agreed to.
The Assembly then adjourned till the evening.
Evening Sederzmt.
The Buz'hling Fund. (Y0.
Dr Chalmers rose and shortly explained his new scheme
for raising funds for building churches. On the motion of
Dr Chalmers it was also agreed to appoint a large committee,
to be named the Finance Committee, which was to take
charge of all the money received for the Free Church.
The Rev. J. C. Brown, of Edinburgh read the Report
of the Home Mission Committee; Dr M‘Kay gave in the
Report of the Gaelic Committee; and Dr Candlish submitted
the Report of the Acting Committee. Dr M‘Donald moved
the adoption of all these Reports, and was ready to acquiesce
in every sentiment they contained. Dr M‘Farlane, Modera—
tor pro tem. then tendered the thanks of the Assembly to
these gentlemen for the labour and attention they had be-
stowed on the Reports. They could see in all this the fulfil-
ment of God's promise to his people,—“ As thy day is so
shall thy strength be.” In the schedule of Churches in the
Report on the table, they saw the fruits which five months
only had produced; and when they looked at the increase,
they were constrained to say,-—“ The Lord is with us, it is
the Lord’s doing.”
Close of the Assembly.
Mr DUNLOP said—Moderator—I beg to propose that the
next meeting of the Assembly be held in Edinburgh on Thurs-
day, the l6th of May next.
The proposition was cordially agreed to.
The MODERATOR, Dr Brown, then said,—Reverend fathers
and brethren—The important business of this Assembly is
now brought to a close; and before it is dissolved, and ere we
separate, and depart to our different homes and respective
spheres of duty, it becomes me, according to usual custom,
to address to you a few parting words.
We came together not for the purpose of laying any new
platform, or erecting a new ecclesiastical structure, but for
the purpose of adhibiting those adminicles that may render
that structure more stable and permanent, and presenting it
to the eye of the beholder in all its native beauty, in all its
pristine loveliness, in all its original strength. We assembled
to give effect to our original laws and regulations for the
maintenance of the Church's existence and purity—to adopt
resolutions for meeting the new and unprecedented circum-
stances in which we have been placed—to devise measures
for the more extensive diffusion of divine truth, “ that the
law might go forth of Zion more widely, that the word of
:he Lord might be proclaimed more loudly from Jerusalem”
__the grand purpose for which a visible Church has been in-
stituted, and for which it is allowed to exist. \Ve came to-
gether to deliberate as to the internal regulations of the house
of God—not to legislate about forms and ceremonies. and
the priest’s vestments, but to direct, countenance. and en-
courage and strengthen the hands of the man of God in the


execution of his trust of awful importance; while we havebeen
careful to have respect to, and secure, the Christian people’s
dearest privileges, and to promote their best interests. \Ve
assembled together also to sanction and carry forward those
plans that have been adopted, and, blessed be God, pursued
with so much success, and to devise new measures for the
outward maintenance of the Church, for the erection of sanc-
tuaries throughout the land, and for the sustentation of those
ministers who now occupy, or may be called in providence
to occupy them in after days and coming years. We came
together, not to provide for the present emergency merely,
and for ourselves alone—we have taken a wider range as to
time and men. Looking through the vista of time, bring-
ing before our minds, and bearing on our heart generations
yet unborn (although God only knows what the purposes of
God, for weal or for woe. may be in regard to ourselves, in
regard to our Church, in regard to our nation), but remember-
ing that the word of God endureth for ever—that Christ shall
have a seed to serve him while sun and moon endure—and
recollecting that present duty is ours, we have assembled to
deliberate, to devise, in God’s strength, for the behoof of
children’s children, in God’s name to lay the foundation of
that scheme by which the Divine glory may be promoted,
and Christ’s kingdom advanced, by which, through the length
and breadth of the land, the gospel may be published, and its
ordinances dispensed in purity, and its ministers sustained in
comfort; that, when we and this generation shall have passed
away, and been carried to our fathers, while Scotland exists
as a nation, the memory of this Assembly may not be for-
gotten, and its proceedings and its provisions may be looked
back to by God’s people in another age, with gratitude to
God, and with thankfulness for those instruments whom he
in his providence raised up for their benefit. And gladly
would We hope that in these respects we have succeeded,
through God‘s blessing upon us. \Vhile we look not to our
selves, and would ever hear in mind that the wisdom of man
is foolishness, and the strength of man is weakness, yet in
weighty deliberations we have been engaged, wise resolutions
have been formed, and salutary regulations have been passed,
all bearing upon the purity, the stability, the permanence of
the Church. And, withal. there has been in this Assembly
a wisdom, a prudence, a skill, a zeal, a forethought, a pains-
taking, a union, and harmony, and kindliness of feeling,
amidst the variety and multiplicity of objects that have en-
gaged our attention—all combined with and sanctified by a
spirit of piety and prayer that has rarely been witnessed, and
which enables us to thank God and take courage. Yes, I
congratulate you, and give God thanks for that solemnity 0‘
feeling, that prayerfulness of spirit, that unity of sentiment,
that harmony of love, that have pervaded this whole Assem-
bly, and being mixed up with all our deliberations. It has
been truly a Christian convocation, not unworthy of being
named in connexion with that great Assembly to which 1
adverted in the outset.
At our last Assembly we purposed making the whole of
Scotland a field for missionary enterprise; we purposed that
our labours should be co-extensive with Scotland’s limits
and Scotland's necessities, and the pledge has been redeemed.
I will venture to say, that the gospel never was so fully, and
freely, and extensively, and faithfully preached in Scotland,
since Scotland was a nation, and it has been during the last
few summer months. Our ministers and preachers have been
itinerating with apostolic zeal, from the Shetland and Ork-
ney Isles to the Solway Firth. In former times, we did
know the grievous destitution under which many districts la-
boured for lack of the bread of life. This arose not merely
from want of labourers,but from the want of faithful labourers.
Many parishes, through neglect, or worse than neglect, were
absolutely moral deserts. And, notwithstanding all the des-
titution, and our knowledge of it, we could not, we dared
not to send them relief. A line of circumvallation as a Chinese
wall encircled them, which we dared not to approach—we
might look over it, but we must not venture to break it down.
I do not say that in many cases this might not be proper, and
that every labourer ought to have his own vineyard, but it
will not apply universally. The Church is bound to see that
every man does his duty, and not to allow sinners to die in
their sins through the carelessness, or otherwise, of the accre-
dited and hedged-in labourer. It was truly painful for a
faithful ambassador of Christ, to know of souls perishing in
ignorance and in error, and yet not dare on any account to
cross the defined limit, to proclaim his Lord’s message, and




748
APPENDIX.






to point to the way of salvation, by the blood of the cross.
But this state of things no longer prevails. These barriers
have been removed and swept away. Our ministers, under
the direction of their respective Presbyteries, have gone forth
and scattered the seed of the \Vord in every corner. They
have preached by the sea shore, or the river’s brink, or the
retired glen, or the mountain side, and in many instances
with powerful and blessed effect. In many of the districts
which they visited, the doctrine which they preached, or
their mode of preaching it, was new: in many corners the
cold’, chilling, at best but moral disquisitions and addresses,
issuing from many pulpits (we make exceptions), had in-
duced an apathetic indifference to the things of God and eter-
nity ; but the soul-melting heart-subduing strains of the gos-
pel, accompained by stirring appeals to the conscience,
aroused, and captivated, and enchained many. Many a
parched spot has thus been watered and refreshed, and many
a soul. we doubt not, has been brought to the knowledge of
the truth, and won to the Saviour. Had no other good effects
flowed from the disruption, this of itself is a blessed consum'.
mation, proving that God can and will bring good out of
evil; for oh, what are all our movements to be directed to?
what are we to covet, what are we to sigh for, but that a
people may be gained unto the Lord, and brands plucked
rom the everlasting burning ? And as a consequence of this,
the number of adherents to the Free Church has been vastly
increased. In preaching Christ there was a necessity for
preaching him fully, preaching him as the King of Zion, the
sole Head of his Church—the Ruler in his own house, and
this led naturally and necessarily to the subject of controversy :
and thus many hearing what had never reached their ears be-
fore, they were led to think, and reflect, and compare, and
judge, andchoose: and thus, from being ignorant, have re-
ceived light, from being indifferent, have been aroused, ay,
from being inimical, have become warm friends; and the cry
from every quarter is, “ Come and help us,” Thus in many
Presbyteries where the adhering ministers were few, the ad-
hering congregations have more then doubled, so that, as I
said, it is a national Church for which we are called to pro-
vide. The whole history of this controversy and its results
have led us to see, that if men are open to conviction, and
enlightened in the merits of the question, if they are not
armed with prejudice, led away by party spirit, or influenced
by carnal policy or views of expediency, whenever they take
the Bible in their hands, and the standards of the Church in
their hands, and listen to their decisions, they must perceive
that truth, and equity, and reason lie with us ; that what the
Church demanded, and civil authority refused, was nothing
more than what was righteously claimed, and ought to have
been readily granted.
What the Lord may have in store for us in after days, for
weal or for woe, He only knows who sees the end from
the beginning. For anything that we know, our difficulties
and trials may be only in the commencement. We know
that after the last General Assembly in Glasgow, though the
Church triumphed, though they had to pass through a great
fight of afflictions, and the fires of persecution began tobe lighted
up and to blaze with greater fury; whether this may be the case
with us we cannot tell. God alone knows. This we can
say, that at this hour there is struggle going on betwixt the
Prince of Light and the Prince of Darkness. The enemy of
God and the souls of men may be mustering and marshalling
his hosts with greater intensity and in greater force than
ever. We know, however, who shall ultimately prevail.
The Captain of our Salvation holds in perfect contempt the
united powers and efforts of earth and hell against His cause
and people, whom he identifies with himself. Brethren, look
to Him, trust to Him, stay your souls on Him, take Him as
your refuge and stay, “count it all joy when you fall into
divers trials, and rejoice that to you it is given, in the behalf
of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but to suffer for His
sake.” Remember you are called to show how a Christian
can endure as well as enjoy—how a Christian can fight as
well as triumph. Oh, be ye ensamples to the believers in
everything—disarm those who are without by your meek-
ness of wisdom—urge upon your people, as I am persuaded
you feel inclined to do, the respect that is due to all righteous
authority. Though they may be blind, be not ye disaffected;
let us be obedient for conscience’ sake.
A dark cloud may yet continue to hang over us which has
not yet been dissipated; but methinks I see the bow in the
cloud proclaiming All is well. Fear not. Be strong in the
Lord, and in the power of his might ; “ your God shall supply
all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus."
Brethren, farewell. \V e have had sweet counsel together.
Never, never shall we all meet again, and see each other in the
face here below. The grey hairs and tottering frames of some
of us tell that our glass is nearly run; and the youngest and most
vigorous are just as insecure as the aged and most enfeebled.
We have all of us our race to run ; and oh ! if we meet before
the throne at last and unite with the redeemed there, it is im-
material at what period or hour we are summoned hence—
immaterial whether we meet again in the wilderness here
below or not. I pray that from the Church below we
may be all called (not one amissing) to join the General
Assembly and Church of the first-born. The Lord bless
you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon
you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift on you the
light of his countenance, and give you peace.
And as we met in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, the
great and sole Head and King of the Church, so in the same
great and glorious name, we dissolve this Assembly, and
appoint our next meeting to be holden at Edinburgh, on
Thursday the 16th day of May next.
The Assembly then sung the last three verses of the
122d Psalm and, after the benediction separated-at two
o’clock on Wednesday morning.




THE
LADIES OF THE COVENANT.
MEMOIRS OF DISTINGUISHED SCOTTISH FEMALE CHARACTERS,
EMBRACING THE PERIOD OF THE COVENANT AND THE PERSECUTION.
BY THE REV. JAMES ANDERSON.

PREFACE
IN collecting materials for “The Martyrs of the Bass,” published some time ago in a volume
entitled “ The Bass Rock,’7 it occurred to the author, from the various notices he met with of
Ladies who were distinguished for their patriotic interest or sufferings in the cause of noncon-
formity, during the period of the Covenant, and particularly, during the period of the perse-
cution, that sketches of the most eminent or best known of these ladies would neither be
uninteresting nor unedifying. In undertaking such a work at this distance of time, he is aware
of the disadvantage under which he labours, from the poverty of the materials at his disposal,
compared with the more abundant store from which a contemporary writer might have executed
the same task. He, however, fiatters himself that the materials which, with some industry, he
has collected, are not unworthy of being brought to light; the more especially as the female
biography of the days of the covenant, and of the persecution, is a field which has been trodden
by no preceding writer, and which may, therefore, be presumed to have something of the fresh-
ness of novelty.
The facts in these Lives have been gathered from a widely scattered variety of authorities,
both manuscript and printed. From the voluminous Manuscript Records of the Privy Council,
deposited in her Majesty’s General Register House, Edinburgh, and from the Wodrow Manu-
scripts, belonging to the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh, the author has derived
much assistance. The former of these documents he was obligingly permitted to consult by
William Pitt Dundas, Esq, Depute Clerk of her .Majesty’s Register House. And to the
‘Vodrow MSS. he has, at all times, obtained the readiest access, through the liberality of the
Curators of the Advocates’ Library, and the kind attentions of the Librarians. He has also had
equally ready access to such books in that invaluable Library, many of them rare and expensive,
as served to illustrate his subject. In the course of the work, he has had occasion to acknow-
ledge his obligations to several gentlemen, from whom he has obtained important information.
As to some of the ladies of rank here noticed, there probably exist, in the form of letters and
other documents, materials for more fully illustrating their lives, among the family manuscripts
of their descendants, to which the author has not had access. The publication of such papers, if
they exist, or of selections from such other papers as relate to the civil and ecclesiastical trans-
actions of Scotland in the olden time, which may be lying, moth-eaten and mouldering away, in
the repositories of our noble families, would furnish valuable contributions to this department
of the literature of our country; and an example, in this respect, well worthy of imitation, has
been set by Lord Lindsay, in his very interesting work entitled, “Lives of the Lindsays.”
These Biographies it has been thought proper to precede by an Introduction, containing
various miscellaneous observations bearing on the subject, but the chief object of which is to
a.






vi PREFACE.


give a general view of the patriotic interest in the cause of religion taken by the ladies of Scot-
land during the period which these inquiries embrace. The Appendix consists of a number of
papers illustrative of passages in the text; some of which have been previously printed, and
others of which are now printed from the originals, or from copies, for the first time.
In compiling these Memoirs it has been the aim of the author throughout to reduce within
moderate limits his multifarious materials, which might easily have been spread over a much
larger surface. At the same time he has endeavoured to bring together the most important
facts to be known from accessible sources respecting these excellent women, and has even intro-
duced a variety of minute particulars in their history, which he was at considerable, and, as
some may think, unnecessary pains to discover. But he believes that careful research into
minute particulars, in the lives of ladies so eminent, and who were closely connected with so
important a period of the history of our church, as that of the struggles and sufferings of the
Scottish Covenanters in the cause of religious and civil liberty, is not to be considered as alto-
gether unnecessary labour. “ As to some departments of history and biography,” says Foster,
“ I never can bring myself to feel that it is worth while to undergo all this labour; but,” speak-
ing of the English Puritans, he adds, “ with respect to that noble race of saints, of which the
world will not see the like again (for in the millennium good men will not be formed and
sublimed amidst persecution), it is difficult to say what degree of minute investigation is too
much—especially in an age in which it is the fashion to misrepresent and decry them.771 This
remark is equally applicable to the Scottish Covenanters. Their pre-eminent worth warrants
and will reward the fullest investigation into their history, independent of the light which this
will throw on the character and manners of their age. Of course, it is not meant to affirm that
they were exalted above the errors and infirmities of humanity, or that we are implicitly to
follow them in everything, whether in sentiment or in action, as if we had not as good a right
to act on the great Protestant principle of udging for ourselves, as they had ; or as if they had
been inspired like prophets and apostles. But it may be safely asserted that, though not
entitled to be ranked as perfect and inspired men, they had attained to an elevation and compass
of Christian character, which would have rendered them no unmeet associates and coadjutors of
prophets and apostles; and even many of their measures, ecclesiastical and civil, bore the stamp
of such maturity of wisdom, as showed them to be in advance, not only of their own age, but
even of ours, and the defeat of which measures, it may be said, without exaggeration, has
thrown back the religious condition of Britain and Ireland for centuries.
J. A.
EDINBURGH, September, 1850.
1Foster’s Life, vol. ii. p. 127.





INTRODUCTION.
THE period embraced in the following sketches is
the reigns of James VI., his son, and two grand-
sons, but more particularly the reigns of his two
grandsons, Charles II. and James VII., the materials
for illustrating the lives of such of our female wor-
thies as lived during their reigns, being most abund-
ant. All the ladies here sketched, whether in
humble life or in exalted stations, were distinguished
by their zeal, or by their sufferings in the cause of
religious truth; and it is by this zeal and these
sufferings that the most of them are now best
known to us. Our notices, then, it is obvious, will
be chiefly historical, though not so exclusively his-
torical as to forbid the introduction of such illustra-
tions of the personal piety of these ladies, as time
has spared; and of such portions of their domestic
history as may seem to be invested with interest,
and to furnish matter of instruction.
It is first of all worthy of special notice, that the
peculiar ecclesiastical principles contended for, or
sympathized with by all these ladies, were substan-
tially the same. This arose from the circumstance
that all these monarchs sought to subvert substan-
tially the same ecclesiastical principles. Bent on
the acquisition of absolute power, they avowedly and
perseveringly laboured to overturn the Presbyterian
government of the Scottish church, which, from its
favourable tendency to the cause of liberty, was an
obstruction in their path; and to impose by force,
upon the Scottish people, the prelatic hierarchy,
which promised to be more subservient to their
wishes. As to the means for attaining this object, all
these monarchs were unprincipled and unscrupulous;
and each, more degenerate than his predecessor,
became, to an increasing degree, reckless in the
measures he adopted. James VI, who plumed him-
self on his king-craft, endeavoured, by corrupting and
overawing the General Assemblies of the Church, to
get them to destroy their liberties, by introducing,
with their own hands, Prelacy, and the ceremonies
of the Anglican Church. Charles I adopted a more
bold, direct, and expeditious course, attempting to

impose a book of canons and a liturgy by his sole
authority, without consulting any church judicatory
whatever, in which, however, he failed of success,
his tyranny issuing in the triumph of the cause he
intended to destroy. Charles 11., following in the
steps of his father, proceeded, on his restoration, to
establish Prelacy on the ruins of Presbytery in like
manner by his sole authority; and, having more in
his power than his father, to enforce conformity by
the exaetion of fines, by imprisonment, banishment,
torture, public executions, and massacres in the
fields. James VII, who wont even further than his
brother, father, or grandfather, attempted to exer-
cise absolute power in a more unmitigated form than
they had ever done, and determined, what none of
them had ventured to do, to make Popery the
established religion throughout his dominions. And
in this infatuated course he obstinately persevered,
till he alienated from him the great body of his sub-
jects of all ranks, and, till after a short reign of
three years, he was driven from his throne. Thus,
the same ecclesiastical principles being assailed
by all these monarchs, the testimony of our Pres-
byterian ancestors, under all their reigns, was
substantially the same. The great principles for
which they contended may be reduced to these
three, from which all the rest flow as corollaries:
first, That Christ is the alone King and Head of his
church, having the alone right to appoint her form
of government; secondly, That Presbytery is the
only form of church government which he has
instituted in his “70rd; and thirdly, That the church
is free in her government from every other jurisdic-
tion, except that of Christ. These principles, all
the ladies sketched in this volume either maintained
or sympathized with; and many of them suffered
much in their behalf. During the whole extent of
the period we have embraced, there is evidence
of the existence of a public religious spirit among
the women of Scotland, and as we advance down-
ward, we find this spirit becoming more generally
diffused



V111
INTRODUCTION T0







In the reign of James VI, ladies in every
station of life warmly espoused the cause of the
ministers who opposed the monarch in his attempts
to establish Prelacy. Some of them even wielded
the pen in the cause with no small effect. The
wives of Mr. James Lawson and Mr Walter Baloan-
quhal, ministers of Edinburgh, wrote vigorously in
defence of their husbands, who had been compelled
to fly to England for having publicly condemned in
their sermons the Hawk acts, as they were called,
of the servile Parliament of 1684:, by which Pres-
bytery was overthrown and the liberties of the
church laid at the feet of the King. They boldly
entered the lists with Patrick Adamson, Archbishop
of St. Andrews, who had written in condemnation
of the conduct of their husbands, and answered him
in a long paper, exposing with energy, acuteness,
and success, the falsehood of his assertions and the
imbecility or fallacy of his reasonings; treating him
at the same time with little ceremony. As to the old
and common reproach, they say, against God's serv-
ants—troublers of commonwealths, rebels against
princes, irreverent speakers against those in author-
ity, they may bear with it, since their Master was
similarly reproached, yea, was even accused of
speaking by Beelzebub, the prince of the devils.
“We will say but this much shortly,” they add,
' “ as Elias said to Ahab, ‘It is thou and thy father’s
house that trouble Israel.’ It is thou and the
remnant of you, pharisaical prelates, because ye are
not throned up in the place of popes that would
mix heaven and earth, ere the pomp of your pre-
lacies decay.” ‘ The power of this defence may be
estimated from the irritation which it caused the
prelate, and from the manner in which he met it.
So completely had “the weaker vessel” pinned
him, that though he “haid manie grait giftes, bot
specialie excellit in the toung and pen,” 2 he shrunk
from encountering these spirited females with their
own weapons, and, skulking behind the throne,
directed against them the thunderbolt of a royal
proclamation, which charged them instantly, under
pain of rebellion, to leave their manses. This they
accordingly did, selling their household furniture,
and delivering the keys of their manses to the
magistrates. By the same proclamation, several
other ladies of respectability, who are described as
“worse affected to the obedience of our late acts of
parliament,” are commanded, under the same pains,
“to remove from the capital, and retire beyond the


rwater of Tay, till they give farther declaration of
their disposition.” I
The ardent and heroic attachment to the cause
of Presbytery displayed by Mrs. Welsh, the wife of
Mr. John Welsh, minister of Ayr, and the wives of
the other five ministers, who, with him, were tried
at Linlithgow in 1606, on a charge of high treason,
for holding a General Assembly at Aberdeen in July,
the preceding year, is also worthy of special notice.
When informed that a verdict of guilty was brought
in by a corrupt jury—a verdict which inferred the
penalty of death, “instead of lamenting their fate,
they praised God, who had given their husbands
courage to stand to the cause of their Master,
adding, that like him, they had been judged and
condemned under covert of night.” 2 Of these ladies,
Mrs. Welsh, who was the daughter of our illustrious
Reformer, John Knox? is best known. The curious

1 Calderwood’s History, vol. iv. p. 127.
2 James Melville’s Diary, p. 293.
1 M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, vol. i. p. 327.
2 M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, vol. ii. p. 271.
3 Her name was Elizabeth. She was his third and youngest
daughter by his second wife, Margaret Stewart, daughter of Lord
Ochiltree, a nobleman of amiable dispositions, and his steady friend
under all circumstances. A curious anecdote connected with Knox’s
marriage to Lord Ochiltree’s daughter is contained in a letter written
by Mr. Robert Miller, minister of Paisley, to Wodrow, the historian
of the sufferings of the Church of Scotland, dated November 15, 1722;
and, as it has never before been printed, it may here be inserted:—
“ Mr. John Campbell, minister at Craigie,” says Mr. Millar, “told
me this story of Mr. Knox’s marriage, so far as I mind it. John
Knox, before the light of the Reformation broke up, travelled among
several honest families in the West of Scotland, who were converts
to the Protestant religion, particularly he visited oft Stewart, Lord
Ochiltree’s family, preaching the gospel privately to those who were
willing to receive it. The Lady and some of the family were con“
verts ; her ladyship had a chamber, table, stool, and candlestick for
the prophet, and one night about supper says to him, ‘ Mr. Knox, I
think you are at a loss by Want of a wife ;’ to which he said, ‘ Madam,
I think nobody will take such a wanderer as I,’ to which she re-
plied, ‘Sir, if that be your objection, I’ll make inquiry to find an
answer ’gainst our next meeting.’ The Lady accordingly addressed
herself to her eldest daughter, telling her she might be very happy
if she could marry Mr. Knox, who would be a great Reformer, and
a credit to the church; but she despised the proposal, hoping her
ladyship wished her better than to marry a poor wanderer. The
Lady addressed herself to her second daughter, who answered as
the eldest. Then the Lady spoke to her third daughter, about
nineteen years of age, who very frankly said, ‘ Madam, I’ll be very
willing to marry him, but I fear he’ll not take me,’ to which the
Lady replied, ‘If that be all your objection, I’ll soon get you an
answer.’ Next night, at supper, the Lady said to Mr. Knox, ‘ Sir,
I have been considering upon a wife to you, and find one very will-
ing.’ To which Knox said, ‘ Who is it, Madam?’ She answered,
‘ My young daughter sitting by you at table.’ Then, addressing
himself to the young lady, he said, ‘My bird, are you willing to
marry me?’ She answered, ‘Yes, Sir, only I fear you’ll not be
willing to take me.’ He said, ‘My bird, if you be willing to take
me, you must take your venture of God’s providence, as I do. I go
through the country sometimes on my foot, with a wallet on my
arm, a shirt, a clean band, and aBible in it; you may put some
things in it for yourself, and if I bid you take the wallet, you must
do it, and go where I go, and lodge where I lodge.’ ‘Sir,’ says she,
‘I’ll do all this.’ ‘Will you be as good as your word?’ ‘Yes, I
will.’ Upon which, the marriage was concluded, and she lived
happily with him, and had several children by him. She went with


THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT. ix



interview which took place between her and King
James, when she petitioned him for permission to
her husband to return to his native country for the
benefit of his health,1 must be too familiar to our
readers to be here repeated.
Among the ladies of rank who, in the reign of
James VI., were distinguished for their piety and
devotedness to the liberties of the church, were
Lady Lilias Graham, Countess of Wigton, to whom
Mr. John Welsh, who intimately knew her, wrote
that famous letter from Blackness Castle which has
been repeatedly printed and often admired ,9 Lady
Anne Livingstone, Countess of Eglinton, who, “al-
though bred at court, yet proved a subdued and
eminent Christian, and an encourager of piety and
truth;”3 Lady Margaret Livingstone, Countess of
Wigton, the friend and patron of Mr. John Living-
stone, and whom, together with the two preceding,
he classes among “the professors in the Church of
Scotland of his acquaintance, who were eminent for
grace and gifts ;” and, omitting many others, Lady
Margaret Cunningham (sister to the Marchioness
of Hamilton), who was married, first to Sir James
Hamilton of Evandale, secondly to Sir James Max-
well of Calderwood ; a lady, whom Robert Boyd, in
recording her death, which took place about Septem-
ber 1623, describes as “that virtuous lady, equal,
if not beyond any I have known in Scotland,” “a
woman of an excellent spirit, and many crosses
through her whole life,” “diligent and active, and
a fearer of God.” 4
In the reign of Charles I., a public-spirited in-
terest in the cause of religious and ecclesiastical
freedom prevailed still more among women of all
classes in our country. Those in the humbler
ranks became famous for their resolute opposition
to the reading of the “black service-book,” which
was to be read for the first time by the Dean of
Edinburgh in the Old Church of St. Giles’s, on
Sabbath, July 23, 1637. To witness the scene, an
immense crowd of people had assembled, and among
the audience were the Lord Chancellor, the Lords of

him to Geneva, and, as he was ascending a bill, as there are many
near that place, she got up to the top of it before him, and took the
wallet on her arm, and, sitting down, said, ‘Now, goodman, am not
1 as good as my word?’ She afterwards lived with him when he
was minister at Edinburgh.” “ I am told,” adds Mr. Millar, “that
one of that Lady Ochiltree’s daughters, a sister of John Knox’s wife,
was married to Thomas Millar of Temple, one of my predecessors.”
--Letters to Wodrow, vol. xix. 4to, no. 197.
1Welsh, and the other ministers had been banished the King’s
dominions for life.
2 Select Biographies printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 18.
3 Ibid., vol. i. p. 347-
* Wodrow’s Life of Boyd, printed for the Maitland Club, p. 266.

the privy council, the judges and bishops. At the
stated hour the Dean ascended the reading-desk,
arrayed in his surplice, and opened the service-book,
But no sooner did he begin to read, than the utmost
confusion and uproar prevailed. The indignation
of the people was roused; “False antichristian,”
“wolf,” “beastly-bellied god,” “crafty fox,” “ill-
hanged thief,” were some of the emphatic appel-
lations which came pouring in upon him from a
hundred tongues, and which told him that he oc-
cupied a somewhat perilous position. But the
person whose fervent zeal was most conspicuous
on that occasion, was a humble female who kept
a cabbage-stall at the Tron Kirk, and who was
sitting near the reading-desk. Greatly excited at
the Dean’s presumption, this female, whose name
was Janet Geddes—a name familiar in Scotland as a
household word, exclaimed, at the top of her voice,
“Villain, dost thou say mass at my lug?” and suit-
ing the action to the word, launched the cutty stool
on which she had been sitting at his head, “ intend-
ing,” as a contemporary writer remarks, “to have
given him a ticket of remembrance, but jouking
became his safeguard at that time.”1 The same
writer adds, “ The church was immediately emptied
of the most part of the congregation, and the doors
thereof barred at commandment of the secular power.
A good Christian woman, much desirous to remove,
perceiving she could get no passage patent, betook
herself to her Bible in a remote corner of the church.
As she was there stopping her cars at the voice
of popish charmers, whom she remarked to be very
headstrong in the public practice of their anti-
christian rudiments, a young man sitting behind
her began to sound forth, ‘Amen.’ At the hearing
thereof she quickly turned her about; and, after she
had warmed both his cheeks with the weight of her
hands, she thus shot against him the thunderbolt of
her zeal :—‘ False thief,’ said she, ‘is there no other
part of the kirk to sing mass in, but thou must sing
it at my lug P’ The young man being dashed with
such a hot unexpected rencounter, gave place to
silence in sign of his recantation. I cannot here
omit a worthy reproof given at the same time by a
truly religious matron; for, when she perceived one
of Ishmael’s mocking daughters to deride her for

1 “The immortal J enet Geddis,” as she is styled in a pamphlet of
the period [Edinburgh’s Joy, &c., 1661], survived long after her
heroic onslaught on the Dean of Edinburgh. She kept a cabbage-
stall at the Tron Kirk, as late as 1661. She is specially mentioned in
the Mercurius Caledom'us, a newspaper published immediately after
the Restoration, as having taken a prominent share in the rejoicings
on the coronation of Charles II. in 1661. See Wilson’s Memorials
of Edinburgh in the Olden Time, voL i. pp. 92, 93, and vol. ii. p. 30.
b
X INTRODUCTION TO


her fervent expressions in behalf of her heavenly
Master, she thus sharply rebuked her with an ele-
vated voice, saying, ‘Woe be to those that laugh
when Zion mourns.’ ” ‘
At that period the gentler sex were particularly
unceremonious towards turn-coat or time-serving
ministers. Baillie gives a very graphic account of the
treatment Mr. William Annan, the prelatic minister of
Ayr, met with from the women of Glasgow: “At the
outgoing of the church, about thirty or forty of our
honestest women, in one voyce, before the bishope and
magistrats, did fall in rayling, cursing, scolding, with
clamours, on Mr. William Annan; some two of the
meanest were taken to the Tolbooth. All the day
over, up and down the streets where he went, he got
threats of sundry in words and loo/rs; but after supper,
when needlesslie he will goe to visit the bishope, he
is no sooner on the causey, at nine o’clock on a week
night, with three or four ministers with him, bot
some hundreds of inrayed women of all qualities are
about him, with neaves, and staves, and poets, but
no stones ; they beat him sore; his cloak, ruff, hatt,
were rent; however, upon his cries, and candles set
out from many windows, he escaped all bloody
wounds; yet he was in great danger even of killing.” 2
In this, and in some other instances, the indigna-
tion of the “honest women” of those days at rene-
gade or persecuting clergymen may have carried
them somewhat beyond the bounds of moderation.
On other occasions, acting more decorously, they
assembled peaceably together to petition the Govern-
ment for liberty to the nonconforming ministers to
preach wherever they were called or had opportu-
nity.3 And, though precluded from hearing a part
in public debates, they contemplated with the deepest
interest those ecclesiastical movements, which, guided
by men of great talents, firmness, and spirit, issued
in the glorious triumph of the church over the
attempts of the court to enslave her. Nor was
this interest limited to women in the humbler and
middle classes of society. The baronesses, the
countesses, the marchionesses, and the duchesses
of the day partook of it, and encouraged their hus-
bands and their sons to stand by the church in her
struggles for freedom, regardless of the frowns and
the threats of power. The zeal with which the


Marchioness of Hamilton, Lady Boyd, and Lady
Culross, maintained the good cause, appears from
the brief notices of their lives which have been
transmitted to our time, and to these might be
added the names of other ladies in high life, many
of whom would doubtless have gladly subscribed the
National Covenant of 1638, had it been the practice
for ladies to subscribe that document.1
In the reign of Charles II., the fidelity of the
Presbyterians was put to a more severe test than it
had ever been before. Charles became a ruthless
persecutor. Inclining at one time, in matters of
religion, to Popery, and at another to Hobbism, it
was natural for him to persecute. Popery, the true
antichrist, which puts enmity in the seed of the
serpent against the seed of the woman, is essentially
persecuting. Hobbism, which maintains that virtue
and vice are created by the will of the civil magi-
strate, and that the king’s conscience is the standard
for all the consciences of his subjects, just as the
great clock rules all the lesser clocks of the town,
is no less essentially persecuting. Whether, then,
Charles is considered as a Papist or as a Hobbist,
he was prompted by his creed to persecute. In
addition to this, it is to be observed, that the Pres-
byterian Church of Scotland had excited his irrecon~
cilable hatred, not only from its being unfriendly
to despotism, but from its strict discipline, the
experience of which, in early life, had made a last
ing impression on his mind. All these things being
considered, the motives inducing his determination,
a determination from which he never swerved, to
destroy the Scottish Presbyterian Church, are easily
explained. To assist him in this work, a set of

1 “Brief and True Relation of the Broil which fell out on the
Lord’s day, the ‘23d of July, 1637, through the occasion of a black,
popish, and superstitious Service-Book, which was then illegally
introduced and impudently vented within the Churches of Edin-
burgh ;” published August thereafter. Printed in Rothes’s Rela-
tion, &c., Appendix, pp. 198, 199.
2 Baillie’s Letters and Journals, vol. i. p. 21.
‘ See p. 80.
1 Many of the subscribed copies of the National Covenant, as
sworn at that period, have been carefully examined by David Laing,
Esq, Signet Library; and, from the absence of the names of ladies,
it appears not to have been customary for ladies to swear and sub-
scribe it. In describing some of the numerous copies of that Cove-
nant, signed in diiferent parts of the country in 1638, he, however,
took notice, some time ago, in a communication to the Society of
Antiquaries, of one in the Society’s Museum, which seems to be
quite peculiar in having the names of several ladies. From the
notorial attestations on the back of a great many persons, in the
parish of Maybole, who adhered to the Covenant, but were unable
to write, he inferred that this copy had been signed in that district
of Ayrshire. In the first line of the signatures towards the right
hand side, along with the names of Montrose, Lothian, Loudoun,
and Cassillis, are those of Jeane Hamilton, evidently the sister of
the Marquis of Hamilton, and wife of the Earl of Cassillis—and of
Margaret Kennedy, their daughter, who afterwards became the
wife of Bishop Burnet. Lower down, towards the right hand of the
parchment, are the names of other ladies, who cannot now be so
readily identified—Margaret Stewart, Jeane Stewart, Grizil Blair,
Isabill Gimill, Helene Kennedy, Elizabeth Hewatt, Anna Stewart,
Elizabeth Stewart, Dame Helene Bennett and Janet Fergusone.
For the information contained in this note I am indebted to the
kindness of Mr. Laing, whose extensive acquaintance with Scottish
history is so much at the service of others.


THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT. Xi



men, both statesmen and churchmen, pre-eminently
unprincipled, of whom Middleton, Lauderdale, and
Sharp, may be considered as the representatives,
were at his service. Many of these had sworn the
Solemn League and Covenant, and had been zealous
for it in the pahny days when its champions walked
in silver slippers. But they were too worldly wise
to strive against wind and tide. They were in fact
just such men as Bunyan describes in his Pilgrim’s
Progress, My Lord Turn-about, My Lord Time-
server, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Anything, Mr.
Two-tongues, Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-love,
and Mr. Save-all. Such servile agents, it is evident,
were in no respect actuated, in persecuting the
Presbyterians, by motives of conscience, as some
persecutors have been, but solely by corrupted and
interested views. Had the King changed his religion
every half year, they would have changed theirs, and
have been equally zealous in persecuting all who
refused to make a similar change.
But this fiery ordeal, the faith, the devotedness,
and the heroism of the pious women of Scotland
stood. We find them, in every station of life,
maintaining their fidelity to their conscientious con-
victions in the midst of severe sufferings. With
the ejected ministers they deeply sympathized ; and
their sympathy with them they testified in many
ways; nor did they feel, or show much respect to,
the intruded curates. This was true even as to the
more ignorant of women in the lower ranks. Many
of this class signalized themselves by their opposition
to the intrusion of the curates, as in lrongray, where
a body of them boldly assailed a party of the King’s
guard, who came to that parish with the view of
promoting the intrusion of a curate into the place
of their favourite ejected minister, Mr. John Welsh.
“A party with some messengers,” says Mr. John
Blackadder, “was sent with a curate, to intimate
that another curate was to enter the kirk for their
ordinary. Some women of the parish hearing there-
of before, placed themselves in the kirkyard, and
furnished themselves with their ordinary weapons
of stones, whereof they gathered store, and thus,
when the messengers and party of rascals with
swords and pistols came, the women so maintained
their ground, defending themselves under the kirk
dyke, that, after a hot skirmish, the curate, mes-
sengers, and party without, not presuming to enter,
did at length take themselves to retreat, with the
honourable blae marks they had got at that con-
flict.”1 Nor was this by any means a singular case;

‘ Blackadder’s Memoirs, MS. copy in Advocates’ Library.

for the same writer adds, “ Many such affronts did
these prelates’ curates meet with in their essays to
enter kirks after that manner, especially by women,
which was a testimony of general dislike and aver-
sion to submit to them as their ministers.” In a
similar way does Kirkton speak. After stating that
“the first transgressors of this kind were (as I
remember) the poor people of lrongray,” and that
“the next offenders were in Kirkcudbright, where
some ten women were first incarcerate in Edinburgh,
and thereafter set with papers on their heads,” he
goes on to say, “ but these were followed by, I
believe, a hundred congregations up and down the
country, though the punishment became banishment
to America, cruel whipping, and heavy fines.” He,
however, at the same time adds, “These extrava-
gant practices of the rabble were no way approven
by the godly and judicious Presbyterians; yea, they
were ordinarily the actions of the profane and
ignorant; but I think they were enough to demons-
trate to the world what respect or affection the
curates should find among their congregations.” '
This favourable disposition to the suffering cause
was not, however, limited to ignorant women in the
lower ranks. It was partaken of more largely, and
displayed more intelligently, by the great body of
well-informed women, in the lower and middle
ranks, and even by many of them in the higher,
to some of whom the reader is introduced in this
volume. At field meetings they were often present.
“Not many gentlemen of estates,” says Kirkton,
“durst come, but many ladies, gentlewomen, and
commons, came in great multitudes.” 2 The agents
appointed by the Government throughout the
country, for putting in execution the laws for
suppressing conventicles and other “ecclesiasti-
cal disorders,” had upon all occasions represented
to the privy council that women were “the chief
fomenters of these disorders.” 3 Besides supporting
the persecuted cause of Presbytery themselves,
these ladies, by their intelligent piety and firmness
of mind, had a powerful influence in infusing the
principles of nonconformity into their husbands,
and in sustaining on many occasions their wavering
resolution. Archbishop Sharp complained heavily
of this, and it gave peculiar energy and bitterness
to his hatred of Presbyterian women, whom he was

‘ Kirkton’s History, pp. 162, 163.
‘-’Ibid., pp. 352, 353. “A vast multitude,” says the editor of
Kirkton, “ of the female sex in Scotland, headed by women of high
rank, such as the Duchess of Hamilton, Ladies Rothes, Wigton,
London, Colvill, 8m, privately encouraged or openly followed the
field preachers.”
3 Register of Acts of Privy Council, January 23, 1684.




xii
INTRODUCTION TO










in the habit of branding with every term of oppro-
brium and contempt. In a letter to a lady, who
acquired notorietyr in her day by the vigorous sup-
pression of conventicles, and of whom we shall
afterwards speak more particularly,1 he says, “I
am glad to find your husband, a gentleman noted
for his loyalty to the King, and affection to the
church, is so happy as to have a consort of the
same principles and inclinations for the public set-
tlement, who has given proof of her ‘aversion to
join in society with separatists, and partaking of that
sin, to which so many of that sex do tempt their
husbands in this evil time, when schism, sedition,
and rebellion, are gloried in, though Christianity
does condemn them as the greatest crimes.” 2
The unyielding steadfastness displayed by so
many of the women of Scotland in the cause of
nonconformity, was a perplexing case to the Go-
vernment. Imprisonment they saw would not re-
medy the evil, for they could not find prisons to
hold a tithe of those who were guilty. The method
they adopted in making the husband responsible
for the religious sentiments of his wife, and in
punishing him, though a conformist himself, for her
nonconformity, if not more effectual, proved, as
may easily be conceived, a prolific source of domes-
tic contention and misery. “ Many husbands here,”
says a writer of that period, in relating the suffer-
ings of Galloway and Nithsdale, in 1666, “who
yield to the full length, are punished by fining, cess,
and quarter, for their wives’ non-obedience, and ye
know, Sir, that it is hard. There are many wives
who will not he commanded by their husbands in
lesser things than this; but I must tell you this
hath occasioned much contention, fire, and strife in
families, and brought it to this height, that some
wives are forced to flee from their husbands, and
forced to seek a shelter elsewhere, and so the poor
good man is doubly punished for all his conform-
ity.”3 Another writer of that period also says,
“When these delating courts 4 came through the
country, husbands were engaged to bring their
wives to the courts, and to the kirk, or to put
them away, and never to own them again, which
many of them did. So after the women had wan-
dered abroad, and when they came home again,



their husbands and other relations took them by
force to the kirk. Some of them fell a- sound when
they were taken off the horses’ backs; others of
them gave a testimony that enraged the curate.” 1
Finding, after the persecution had continued for
more than twenty years, that the zeal of the ladies
against Prelacy was by no means abated, and that
the methods hitherto adopted in meeting the evil
had proved singularly unsuccessful, the Government
‘came to the resolution of meeting it by severely
fining the husbands of such ladies as withdrew
from their parish churches. Such a punishment,
they imagined, was better calculated than any other,
to strike terror and to make husbands active in their
endeavours to persuade their wives to attend the
church. Many husbands were thus fined in heavy
sums for their wives’ irregularities. The case
of Sir William Scot of Harden was very severe.
His wife, Christian Boyd, sixth daughter of Lady
Boyd, who is noticed in this volume, having de-
clined to attend the curate, Sir William was on
that account fined by the privy council in Novem-
ber 1683, in the sum of £1500 sterling? and long
imprisoned in the castle of Edinburgh. He was
forced to compromise and pay the fine, which in
those days was an enormous sum. He desired the
privy council to relieve him of responsibility for
his wife’s delinquencies in future, as she would on
no consideration engage to hear the curates. But
the council held that husbands were to be ac-
counted masters of their wives ale jm'e, whatever
might be the case de facto. Lady Scot was under
the necessity of leaving her husband, and she re-
tired into England, and died at Newcastle. 3
But the making husbands responsible for the
conformity of their wives, and thus throwing a
bone of contention into families, was only a small
part of the sufferings endured by many noncon-
forming women of that period, on account of their
principles. The sufferings of a few, and only a few
of them are recorded in this volume. None of our
female worthies were indeed subjected to the tor-
ture of the boot, or of the thumbscrew, though
some of them were threatened with the former
punishment.‘ But they were cruelly tortured
4-
1 This was Anne Keith, a daughter of Keith of Benholm (brother
to Earl Marischall), and, by the courtesy of the time, styled Lady
Methven, her husband being Patrick Smith of Methven. Sharp’s
letter to her is dated St. Andrews, March 27, 1679.
2 Kirkton’s History, pp. 355-361.
3 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxvii. 4to, no. 6.
4 These were circuit courts, held in various parts of the country,
for discovering and punishing nonconformists.
1 An account of the sufferings in Tunnergirth and other parishes
in Annan, Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxvii. 4to, no. 14.
2 Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i. p. 243.
3 Wodrow MSS., vol. x1. folio, no. 3.
4 Mrs. Crawford, Mrs. Kello, a rich widow, and Mrs. Duncan, a
minister’s widow, were so threatened. After Mitchell’s attempt on
the life of Archbishop Sharp, they were imprisoned, under suspicion
of knowing who the intended assassin was, and, on being brought
before the Council, and strictly interrogated concerning houses that





THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.
xiii


in other ways. In the parish of Auchinleck, a
young woman, for refusing the oath of abjuration,
had her finger burned with fire-matches till the
white bone appeared. In the same parish, Major
White’s soldiers took a young woman in a house
and put a fiery coal into the palm of her hand, to
make her tell what was asked her.1 Hundreds of
women were fined in large sums of money. Hun-
dreds of them were imprisoned. Hundreds of them
were banished to his Majesty’s plantations, and
discharged from ever returning to this kingdom,
under the pain of death, to be inflicted on them with-
out mercy; and before being shipped off, they were
in many cases burned on the cheek, by the hands of
the hangman, with a red-hot iron; while some of
them, being too old to banish, after lying in prison
till their persecutors were weary of confining them,
and grudged the expense of supporting them, were
whipped, burned on the cheek, and dismissed.2 Hun-
dreds of them, to escape imprisonment, banishment,
and other hardships, were under the necessity of
leaving their houses in the cold winter season, and
of lodging in rocks and caves, amidst frost and
snow. And not to mention those women who were
put to cruel deaths, hundreds more, even when
the hostility of the Government was not directed
against themselves personally, were greatly tried,
from the sufferings to which their husbands, from
their opposition to or noncompliance with the op-
pressive measures of the Government, were sub-
jected. In how many instances, while the husband
was compelled to flee for safety, did the wife suffer
the execrable barbarity of savage troopers, who,
visiting her house, would abuse and threaten her
in the very spirit and language of hell, seize upon
her corn and meal, and throw them into the dung-
hill, or otherwise destroy them, plunder her of her
poultry, butter, cheese, and bed-clothes, shoot or
carry away her sheep, and cattle, reducing her and
her family to great distress! If the husband was
fined, intercommuned, imprisoned, tortured, ban-
ished, forfeited in life and property, or put to
death, the wife suffered; and who can calculate
the mental agony, and temporal privations, which
many a wife with her children then experienced, in

lodged Whigs or kept conventicles, or if they knew the name of the
assassin, they were, on refusing to answer, threatened with the boot ;
and the last of these ladies would one day have actually endured
the torture, had it not been for the Duke of Rothes, who told the
Council that it was not proper for gentlewomen to wear boots.—
Kirkton’s History, pp. 283, 284. Dalziel also threatened Marion
Harvey with the boot.
1 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxvii. 4t‘), no. 1. This paper was com-
municated to Wodrow by Mr. Alexander Shields.
’ Register of Acts of Privy Council, July 14, 1685.

consequence of the injustice and cruelties perpe-
trated upon her husband? Such were the sufler-
ings endured for conscience sake during that dark
period, by thousands of the tender sex in our
unhappy country.
Never, indeed, did a severer period of trial pass
over the Church of Scotland, than during the per-
secution. Previously she had fought, with various
success, many a battle against kings and statesmen.
But even when she had sustained defeat, she again
mustered her forces, and by persevering effort re-
covered the ground she had lost. During the
persecution it was different. It was all disaster.
She was not indeed destroyed, which was what her
enemies aimed at. But she was laid prostrate, a
bleeding and a helpless victim. All she could do
was to exercise constancy, patience, and fortitude,
under the fury of her enemies. Had the period of
suifering been of short duration, these graces it
would have been easier to exercise. But it lasted
for nearly a whole generation. It was “ The
Twenty-eight years’ Conflict,” and a conflict of a
very different sort from “ The Ten years’ Conflict”
of our own day. The latter was running with the
footmen in the land of peace; the former was
contending with horses in the swelling of Jordan.
It is extremely gratifying to find that our country-
women, who submitted to such sufferings in the
cause of Presbytery, were generally distinguished
for sincere and enlightened piety. Apart from this,
knowledge, zeal, courage, and self-sacrifice, even to
the death, are of little estimation in the sight of
God, and of little advantage to the possessor.
“Though I give my body to be burned, and have
not charity (love), it profiteth me nothing.” But
this charity, this love in its most extensive sense,
embracing both God and man, was the predomi-
nating element in the character of those of whom
we now speak. Their piety was indeed the true
reason, and not obstinacy or fanaticism, as their
enemies calumniously affirmed, why they submitted
to suffer What they did for matters of religion. The
fear of God, and respect to his authority, were their
governing principles; and so long as these prin-
ciples held the sway in their understandings, con-
sciences, and hearts, they could not, at the bidding
of any man, renounce what they believed to be the
truth of God, and profess as truth what they be-
lieved to be a lie, whatever it might cost them.
Nor were the persecutors ignorant of the fact, that
the sufferers were generally distinguished for godli-
ness. They knew it well, and resembling in dis-
position the first murderer Cain, who was of the



xiv
INTRODUCTION TO


wicked one, and slew his brother, because his own
works were evil and his brother’s righteous, it was
chiefly this which prompted them to hate and
murder their inoffensive victims. So well did they
know it, that they regarded irreligion or profanity
as suflicient to clear a man or woman of all suspicion
of the taint of Presbyterianism. As a proof of this,
we may quote the following passage from Kirkton’s
history, in reference to what took place in the parish
of Wistoun, in Clydesdale :—-“The church,” says he,
“being vacant, and a curate to enter, the people
rose in a tumult, and with stones and batons chased
the curate and his company out of the field. A lady
in that parish was blamed as a ringleader in the
tumult, and brought before the council; she came
to the bar, and after her libel was read, the chancel-
lor asked if these accusations were true or not?
She answered briefly, The devil one word was true
in them. The councillors looked one upon another;
and the chancellor replied, ‘ Well, madam, I adjourn
you for fifteen days ;’ which never yet had an end,
and there her persecution ended; such virtue there
was in a short curse, fully to satisfy such governors,
and many thought it good policy to demonstrate
themselves to be honest profane people, that they
might vindicate themselves of the dangerous suspi-
cion of being Presbyterians.” 1
In our sketches we have included several ladies,
who, though not sufferers during the persecution,
either in their own persons or in their friends, sym-
pathized with and relieved the sufferers. Nor was
it only from such ladies as the Duchess of Hamilton,
the Duchess of Rothes, and others who favoured
the persecuted principles, that the evil-entreated
Covenanters met with sympathy and relief, but even
from many ladies, who, though not attached to the
Presbyterian cause themselves, were enemies to in-
tolerance and persecution. Many of the Wanderers
could bear the same testimony to the generosity and
humanity of woman, which is borne by a celebrated
traveller :2 ‘To a woman,” says he, “I never addressed
myself, in the language of decency and friendship,
without receiving a decent and friendly answer. If
I was hungry or thirsty, wet or sick, they did not
hesitate, like men, to perform a generous action. In
so free and kind a manner did they contribute to
my relief, that if I was dry, I drank the sweetest
draught; and if hungry, I ate the coarsest morsel with
a double relish.” Of this, so numerous were the
examples that were constantly occurring during the
persecution, as to corroborate the evidence upon


which the poet1 pronounces compassion, as pecu.
liarly characteristic of the female heart :—
“ Wherever grief and want retreat,
In woman they compassion find;
She makes the female breast her seat,
And dictates mercy to the mind.”
But true as this eulogium on the female character
may be in the main, instances are to be met with,
in which even the heart of woman has become steeled
against every humane feeling; and such instances,
though happily of rare occurrence, were to be met
with during the period of the persecution. The
Countess of Perth was one of these instances. Her
treatment of the wife of Alexander Hume, portioner
of Hume, in the close of the year 1682, was revolt-
ingly atrocious. Mr. Hume was a nonconformist,
and though nothing criminal was proved against
him, he was condemned to die at the market-cross
of Edinburgh upon the 29th of December. He was
offered his life if he would take the test, which he
refused to do. By the interest of his friends at
court, a remission was, however, procured from the
King, which came down to Edinburgh four or five
days before his execution; but it was kept up by
the Earl of Perth, a relentless persecutor, who was
then chancellor. On the day of Hume’s execution,
his wife went to the chancellor’s lady, and begged
her, in such moving terms as might have softened
even a cold and hard heart, to interpose for her hus-
band’s life, urging that she had five small children.
But the heart of the countess was harder than the
nether millstone. She had no more feeling for the
afiiicted wife and her children than if they had been
so many brute beasts. Not only did she refuse to
comply with her prayer, but with infernal cruelty,
barbed and venomed the refusal with language so
coarsely savage, as is hardly to be repeated. Her
answer was, “I have no more regard to you than to
a bitch and five whelps.” 2
Lady Methven, formerly referred to, is another
instance. To put down a large field conventicle on
her husband’s ground, she boldly marched forth,
armed with a gun and sword, at the head of her
vassals, swearing by the God of heaven, that she
would sooner sacrifice her life, than allow the re-
bellious Whigs to hold their rebellious meeting on
his ground. But this intrepid energy, for which the
enemies of the Covenanters have held her up as a
heroine, was nothing more than animal courage, the
mere effect of iron nerves. From her letters, it is

1 Kirkton’s History, pp. 354, 355. 2 Mr. Ledyard-
1 Crabbe.
2 Her answer is not recorded in Wodrow’s History (vol. iii. p. 417)
but it is given in his MSS., vol. xxxvii. 41:0, no. 31.




THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.
XV



evident, if we are to judge from the oaths with
which they are interlarded, that she was a profane
godless woman; and it is no less evident from them,
that inveterate malignity to the Covenanters was her
impelling principle. In a letter to her husband,
then at London with the Marquis of Montrose,
dated Methven Wood, October 15, 1678, she thus
describes her exploits :-—“ MY PRECIOUS LovE,—A
multitude of men and women, from east, west, and
south, came the 13 day of this October to hold a field
conventicle, two bows’ draught above our church;
they had their tent set up before the sun upon your
ground. I seeing them flocking to it, sent through
your ground, and charged them to repair to your
brother David, the bailie, and me, to the Castle Hill,
where we had but 60 armed men: your brother
with drawn sword and bent pistol, I with the light
horseman’s piece bent, on my left arm, and a drawn
tuck in my right hand, all your servants well armed,
marched forward, and kept the one half of them
fronting with the other, that were guarding their
minister and their tent, which is their standard.
That near party that we yoked with, most of them
were St. Johnston’s1 people; many of them had
no will to be known, but rode off to see what we
would do. They marched toward Busbie: we marched
be-west them and gained ground, before they could
gather in a body. They sent off a party of an hun-
dred men to see what we meant, to hinder them to
meet; we told them, if they would not go from the
parish of Methven presently, it should be a bluddie
day; for I protested, and your brother, before God,
we would ware our lives upon them before they
should preach in our regallitie or parish. They said
they would preach. We charged them either to
fight or fly. They drew to a council amongst
themselves what to do; at last, about two hours in
the afternoon, they would go away if we would let
the body that was above the church, with the tent,
march freely after them; we were content, knowing
they were ten times as many as we were, and our
advantage was keeping the one half a mile from the
other, by marching in order betwixt them. They
seeing we were desperate, marched our the Pow,
and so we went to the church and heard a feared
minister preach. They have sworn not to stand
with such an affront, but resolve to come the next
Lord’s day; and I, in the Lord’s strength, intend
to accost them with all that will come to assist us.
I have caused your officer warn a solemn court of
vassals, tenants, and all within our power, to meet


on Thursday, where I intend, if God will, to be
present, and there to order them, in God and our
King’s name, to convene well armed to the kirkyard
on Sabbath morning by eight hours, where your
brother and I, with all our servant men, and others
we can make, shall march to them, and, if the God
of heaven will, they shall either fight or go out of
our parish.1 ....... ..My blessed love, comfort your-
self in this, that, if the fanatics should chance to
kill me, it shall not be for nought. I was wounded
for our gracious King, and now, in the strength of
the Lord God of heaven, I’ll hazard my person with
the men I may command, before these rebels rest
where ye have power; sore I miss you, but now
more than ever ....... ..This is the first opposition
that they have rencountered, so as to force them to
flee out of a parish. God grant it be good hansell!
There would be no fear of it if we were all steel to
the back. My precious, I am so transported with
zeal to beat the Whigs, that I almost forgot to tell
you my Lord Marquis of Montrose hath two vir-
tuous ladies to his sisters, and it is one of the
loveliest sights in all Scotland, their nunnery.”
This letter is dated “Methven Wood, the 15th in-
stant, 1678.” 2 About a year after this, Lady
Methven met with a melancholy death. She fell
off her horse, and her brains were dashed out, upon
the very spot where she opposed persons going
to that meeting, namely, at the south-west end of
Methven Wood. 3
Of a very different character were the ladies
whose memoirs we have attempted. So far from
hating, maligning, and adding to the hardships of
the persecuted, they protected and relieved them,
and in many cases shared in their sufferings. They
were indeed distinguished by general excellence of
character, and are entitled both to the grateful
remembrance and imitation of posterity. They
form a part of the great cloud of witnesses with
which we are encompassed. Though belonging to
past generations, whose bodies are now sleeping in
the dust, and whose spirits have gone to the eternal
world, they yet speak. By their piety towards God,
not less than their benevolence towards man, by the
exemplary part they acted in every relation of life,
as daughters, as sisters, as mothers, by their liberality
in supporting the ordinances of the gospel, and in
encouraging its faithful ministers, by the magnan-
imity with which they suffered either personally or

1 Perth.
1In another letter to her husband, she says, “They are an
ignorant, wicked pack; the Lord God clear the nation of them!”
“ Kirkton’s History, pp. 355—361.
3 Wodrow KISS, vol. xrxiii. folio, no. 143.


xvi
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



relatively in the cause of truth, often rivalling
the most noble examples of Christian heroism to
be found in the church’s history; they become in-
structors to the living generation in passing through
this scene of temptation and trial. They have espe-
cially, by the magnanimity with which they suffered
in the cause of truth, emphatically taught us the
important principle that we are in all things and at
all times to do what is right; and as to the dis-
approbation, opposition, and persecution of men,
in whatever way manifested, or to whatever extent,

*
we are to let that take its chance—a principle,
the importance of which it is difficult to over-esti-
mate, which lies at the foundation of all that is
great and good in character, which has enabled the
greatest and the best of men, by the blessing of
God, to achieve the great purposes they have formed
for advancing the highest interests of mankind, and
upon which it is necessary for the good soldier of
Christ to act in every age; in an age in which the
church enjoys tranquillity, as well as when she
suffers persecution.



Ll
THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.

LADY ANNE CUNNINGHAM, MARCHIONESS 0F HAMILTON.
LADY ANNE CUNNINGHAM was the fourth daughter
of James, seventh earl of Glencairn, by his first wife
Margaret, second daughter of Sir Colin Campbell
of Glenurchy. ‘ Her ancestors on the father’s side
were among the first of the Scottish peers who em-
braced the Reformed doctrine. In 1640, her great-
great-grandfather William, fourth earl of Glencairn,
and her great-grandfather, then Lord Kilmaurs,
afterwards fifth earl of Glencairn, appear among
the converts of the reformed faith. Her great-
grandfather, in particular, whose piety and bene-
volence procured him the honourable appellation
of “the good earl,”2 was an ardent and steady
promoter of the reformation, for which he was
eminently qualified by his superior learning and
abilities, as well as by the influence of his high
station; and be carefully instructed his children in its
principles. He regularly attended the sermons of
John Knox, on the Reformer’s returning to Scotland
in 15511 ; and in 1556 he invited him to administer
the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper after the manner
of the reformed church, in his baronial mansion of
Finlayston, in the parish of Kilmalcolm, when he
himself, his countess, and two of their sons, with a
number of their friends, partook of that solemn or-
dinance.8 He also assisted the Reformers by his
pen, being the author of a satirical poem upon the
Roman Catholic monks, entitled, “An Epistle Direct
from the Holy Hermit of Allarit 4 to his Brethren
the Grey Friars.” Nor did he shrink from drawing
the sword for their protection. In 1559, when the
Reformers took up arms at Perth to defend them-
selves from the Queen Regent, who had collected
an army and had advanced to Perth, to avenge the
destruction of the popish images by the populace


of that town, he raised 1200 horse and 1300 foot in
the IVest, and the passes being occupied, conducted
them through the mountains, travelling night and
day, till they reached Perth; which proved a season-
able aid to the Reformers, and by the consternation
with which it inspired the Queen Regent, prevented
the effusion of blood. This nobleman often visited
Knox 011 his death bed; and he died in 1574:.
Lady Anne’s father, James, seventh earl of Glen-
cairn, was also a friend to the liberties and religion
of his country. He was one of those noblemen,
who, when the Duke of Lennox, an emissary of the
court of France, had acquired a complete influence
over James VI. soon after his assuming the reins of
government, and had effected an entire change in
the court, filling it with persons devoted to popery
and arbitrary power, resolved to take posses-
sion of the king’s person, and, removing Lennox
and another favourite, the Earl of Arran, from him, to
take upon themselves the direction of public affairs.
With this view, on meeting with the king return-
ing from hunting in Athol, several of them invited
him to Ruthven castle, where they effected their
purpose; and hence this enterprise was called the
Raid of Ruthven.
Of the early life of Lady Anne we possess no
information. In the beginning of the year 1603,
she was married to Lord James, the son and heir
presumptive of John, first Marquis of Hamilton.
By her marriage contract, dated 30th January 1603,
which received the consent of both their fathers,
the marriage portion is forty thousand merks, and
the yearly jointure fifty-six chalders of victual, and
five hundred pounds of money rent. 1
Lady Hamilton inherited from her father’s family
an ardent zeal for Presbytery. During the first part of
her life an almost continued contest existed between
James VI. and the Church of Scotland, in reference to
that form of church government. As has been said in
the Introduction, James commenced that struggle,
for absolute power, which was resolutely persevered
in by his son and his two grandsons; and to reach

1 Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i. p. 636.
2 There is a portrait of this nobleman in Pinkerton’s Scottish
Gallery of Portraits, vol. ii.
3 M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, vol. i. p. 178. Knox’s History, Wodrow
Society edition, vol. i. p. 250. “ The silver cups which were used
by Knox on this occasion are still carefully preserved; and the use
of them was given at the time of dispensing the sacrament in the
parish church of Kilmaleolm, so long as the Glencairn family resided
at Pinlayston.”
4 Thomas Douchtie of Allarit or Loretto, near Mnsselburgh. This
person was the founder of the Chapel of our Lady of Loretto in
l533. Knox’s History, Wodrow Society edition, vol. i. pp. 7 2, 7 5.
1 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv. p. 201.
A



2 THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.


fi

his purpose he deemed it necessary to undermine
the Presbyterian government of the Church of Scot-
land. With his usual profanity, he asserted that
Monarchy and Presbytery agreed as well as God and
the devil. No assertion could be more unfounded.
It cannot indeed be denied that the republieanism
of Presbyterian Church government is unfriendly to
absolute or despotic monarchy. The fundamental
principle of Presbytery—that spiritual power is
lodged exclusively in the church courts, uncontrolled
by the civil magistrate—greatly limits the power of
n'ionarchs,saying to them, when they reach the borders
of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, “Hitherto shalt thou
come, and no farther,” and naturally leads men to
conclude that, by parity of reason, temporal power
should be lodged in a parliament. But that Pres-
bytery is hostile to limited monarchy, is disproved by
the whole of its history in Scotland; for no body of
people was ever more devoted to the throne than
the Presbyterians ; and indeed they often carried
their loyalty to a reprehensible and extravagant
excess. It was not, however, a limited but an ab-
solute monarchy on the erection of which James’
heart was set; and seeing clearly enough that
Presbytery was the enemy of such a monarchy, he
made every effort to overthrow it, and to introduce
Prelacy, which he well knew would be a more effec-
tual instrument in advancing his design. These
efforts he was not permitted to make without op-
position. A body of ministers, respectable for
number, and still more respectable for their talents,
piety, and zeal, resolutely and perseveringly re-
sisted him till the close of his life. They main-
tained, that by attempting to impose upon the
church the form of government and mode of wor-
ship which were most aecordant with his inclinations,
and by endeavouring to control her in her adminis-
tration, he was invading the prerogative of Christ,
the sole king and head of the church, who alone had
a right to settle the form of her government, and by
whose authority alone she was to be guided in her
administration. By threats, bribes, imprisonment,
and banishment, James laboured hard to get them to
yield to his wishes; but animated by a high sense
of duty, they were not to be overborne, and, largely
imbued with the spirit of martyrs, they preferred
enduring the utmost effects of his royal wrath rather
than make the unhallowed surrender. So much
importance did they attach to their principles, as to
‘deem them worthy even of the sacrifice of their
lives. “We have been even waiting with. joyfulness,”
said one of them, “ to give the last testimony of our
blood in confirmation thereof, if it should please our
God to be so favourable as to honour us with that
dignity. It is the courage, zeal, and self-sacri-
fice with which this party contended for the rights
and liberties of the church, during the reigns of
James VI. and Charles I., that imparts to this
portion of our ecclesiastical history its principal
charm.
To this party the Marchioness of Hamilton ad~
hered with great zeal, actuated by sympathy with
the principles contended for, as well as by sympathy
with the character of the men themselves, who,
besides being the most gifted, were the most pious,
active, and faithful ministers of the Church of Scot-
land in their day.
Her husband, the Marquis of Hamilton, was not
equally stedfast with herself in maintaining the
liberties of the church. Facile and ambitious, he
was induced, from a desire to please his sovereign,
to become an advocate for conformity to the five
articles of Perth, and to exert his influence to
obtain their ratification in the Scottish parliament
of 1621, where he was his majesty’s high commis-
sioner. This nobleman was cut off in the prime of
life, having died at London on the 2d of March,
1625, in the 36th year of his age? “ Small regret,”
says Calderwood, “ was made for his death, for the
service he made at the last parliament.”
The marchioness survived the marquis many
years, during which time she was eminently useful
as an encourager of the faithful ministers of the
gospel, whom she was ever ready to shield from
persecution, and to countenance in every way com-
petent to her. When Mr. Robert Boyd of Troch-
rig had, a few months after his being admitted
minister of Paisley, been driven out of that town
by the mob, who showered upon him “ stones and
.dirt,” Paisley being then, as How describes it, “ a
nest of papists,” 3 she was earnestly desirous to
take that great and good man under her protection,
and invited him to accept of the charge of the parish
of Cambuslang, which was at that time vacant. Mr.
James Bruce, writing to him from Glasgow, in
October, 1626, says, “ The parish of Cambuslang is
now vacant, and the Lady Marchioness is earnestly
desirous to have you there. Her jointure lies
there: it is within three miles of Glasgow, has a
reasonable stipend, beside the lady’s pension, which
:21

1 These are the words of Mr. John Welsh, when a prisoner in
Blackness Castle, in reference to himself and his brethren who
were proceeded against by the government for holding a General
Assembly at Aberdeen in July, 1605, in opposition to the wishes of
the monarch—Select Biographies printed for the Wodrow Society,
vol. i. p. 23.
2 Calderwood’s History, vol. vii. pp. 469, 489, 630.
3 Row’s History of the Kirk of Scotland, p. 438.





MA RCH [ONESS
OF HAMILTON. 3



she will rather augment than diminish. You will
live easier, and at more peace there than at Paisley;
you will have the Lady Marchioness’s company,
which is very desirable. This I leave to your
consideration, and the Lord’s direction.” An end,
however, was put to this matter by the growing
illness of Boyd, which took him to Edinburgh, to
consult with physicians, and on reaching the capital
his sickness increased, till it terminated in his
death, on the 5th of January, 1627 .1
The name of the marchioness stands favourably
connected with that memorable revival of religion
which took place at the kirk of Shotts, on the 21st
of June, 1630, the Monday after the celebration of
the Lord’s Supper. Indeed, that revival may be
said to be directly traceable to the piety of this lady,
who was forward to embrace every opportunity of
bringing within the reach of others the blessed
gospel, which she herself so highly prized; and it
originated in a circumstance apparently incidental
-the breaking down of her carriage on the road,
at Shotts. How important the results either for
good or evil to mankind, which, under the govern-
ment of infinite wisdom, have been produced by the
most trivial events ! The sight of the spider’s web
and the pigeon’s nest at the entrance of the cave
in which Mahomet concealed himself diverted his
pursuers from searching it, and saving the life of
the false prophet, contributed to entail for ages
upon alarge part of the world the curse of the
Mahometan superstition; and in the Reformation
throughout Europe, incidents equally insignificant
have, on the other hand, been big with consequences
the most beneficial to mankind. The circumstance
of the breaking down of the marchioness’s carriage,
seemingly casual as it was, resulted in some hun-
dreds of immortal beings experiencing that blessed
change of heart which unites the soul to God, and
which issues in everlasting salvation. The particu-
lars, in so far as she was concerned, were these :—
As the road to Edinburgh from the west lay by the
kirk of Shotts, she frequently passed that way in
travelling from the place of her residence to the
capital, and on such occasions she received, in differ-
ent instances, civilities from Mr. Home,‘~’ minister
of the parish. At one time, in particular, when on
her passing through Shotts, accompanied with some
other ladies, the carriage in which they were riding
broke down, in the neighbourhood of the manse,


Mr. Home, on learning the accident, kindly invited
them to alight and remain all night in his house, as
they were at a considerable distance from any con-
venient place of entertainment. Having accepted
his invitation, they observed during their stay that
besides its inconvenient situation, the manse stood
much in need of being repaired; and the mar-
chioness, in return for his attentions, erected for
him a new manse, in a more agreeable situation,
and with superior accommodations. On receiving
so substantial a favour, Mr. Home waited upon her
to express his obligations, and desired to know if
there was any thing he could do by which to testify
his gratitude. All she asked was that he would be
kind enough to allow her to name the ministers he
should have with him as his assistants at the cele-
bration of the Lord’s Supper. This request he
cordially granted. She accordingly named some of
the most distinguished ministers of the day, Mr.
Robert Bruce, Mr. David Dickson, and some others
who had been remarkably successful as instruments
in bringing many to the saving knowledge of the
truth. The report that such celebrated men were to
assist at the communion at that place soon circulated
extensively through the country; and a vast multi-
tude, attracted by their fame, assembled from all
quarters, many of them of eminent piety, among
whom were the marchioness herself, and other ladies
of rank, who attended at her invitation.l
The solemnity to which she was the means of
bringing these ministers, and of gathering together
so greata crowd of people, was accompanied in a
very signal manner with the divine blessing. For
several days before, much time was spent in social
prayer. During all the days of the solemn occa-
sion the ministers were remarkably assisted. The
devout who attended were in a more than ordinary
degree refreshed. and edified, and so largely was the
spirit of grace and supplication poured out upon
them, that, after being dismissed on the Sabbath,
they spent the whole night, in different companies,
in prayer. On the Monday morning, the ministers,
understanding how they had been engaged, and
perceiving them, instead of returning to their homes,
still lingering at the place, as if unwilling to depart
from a spot which they had found in their expe—
rience to be as it were the gate of heaven, agreed to
have sermon on that day, though it was not usual,
at that time, to preach on the Monday after the
dispensation of the Lord’s Supper. The minister
whose turn it was to ofiiciate having become unwell,

i Wodrovi"s Life of Robert Boyd, pp. 239, 240.
2 Gillies, in his Historical Collections, calls him Mr. Hance, but
this is a mistake. Both Livingstone and Wodrow give his name as
in the text.
1 Wodrow’s Analccta, vol. 1'. p. 271; Gillies’s Historical Colleo
tions, vol. i. pp. 309, 310.





‘I THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.



the work of addressing the people was, at the sug-
gestion of Lady Cuh‘oss, laid upon Mr. John Liv-
ingstone, then a young man, and chaplain to the
Countess of Wigton. Livingtsone had before
preached at Shotts, and had found more liberty in
preaching there than at other places; but from the
great multitude of all ranks assembled on that oc-
casion he became so difiident that when alone, in the
fields in the morning, he began to think of stealing
away-rather than address the people. “But,” says
he, “ I durst not so far distrust God, and so went
to sermon and got good assistance. I had about
an hour and a half upon the points I had meditated
on, Ezekiel xxxvi. 25, 26, ‘ Then will I sprinkle clean
water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all
your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse
you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit
will I put within you : and I will take away the stony
heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart
of flesh;’ and in end, offering to close with some
words of exhortation, I was led on about an hour’s
time in a strain of exhortation and warning, with
such liberty and melting of heart as I never had the
like in public all my life.” 1 And such was the effect,
that, as Mr. Fleming observes, in his Fulfilling of
the Scriptures, “near five hundred had at that time
a discernible change wrought on them, of whom
most proved lively Christians afterward. It was
the sewing of a seed through Clydesdale, so as many
of the most eminent Christians in that country
could date either their conversion or some remark-
able confirmation in their case from that day.” 2
After this the practice of preaching on the Monday
following the sacrament became general.


The Marchioness of Hamilton was personally
known to Mr. John Livingstone; and in his Memo-
rable Characteristics he has given her a place among
“ some of the professors in the Church of Scotland
of his acquaintance who were eminent for grace and
gifts.” ‘ From his Life we also learn that whatever
influence she had with the court at London, she
was well inclined to use it for the protection of the
persecuted noneonformists. He informs us that,
after he himself, Mr. Robert Blair, and others of
his brethren in Ireland, had been deposed, in May,
1632, by the Bishop of Down, and when Mr. Blair
went to London to represent their cause to the
govermnent, he himself, who was to follow Mr. Blair,
went previously to Scotland, with the design of
procuring letters from the Lady Marchioness of
Hamilton, and other persons of rank, to some of
their friends at court, vindicating him and his
brethren from the charge of stirring up the people
to ecstacies and enthusiasm, and requesting for
them toleration to preach the gospel notwithstand-
ing their nonconformity?
Dining the stirring period when the Scottish
people renewed the National Covenant, and suc-
cessfully resisted the attempts of Charles I. to
impose upon them a book of canons and a liturgy, 3

1 Life of Mr. John Livingstone in Select Biographies printed for
the Wodrow Society, vol. i., p. 138.
2 It may not be uninteresting to quote some notices respecting
this communion, given by Wodrow:—
“April 24, 1710. This day being at the Shotts, and discoursing
with Mr. Law, the minister, he tells me that the sermon was in the
west end of the churchyard. He let me see the end of the Craigs to
which, it is said, Mr. Livingstone Went up to study, the morning be-
fore he preached, as the tradition is. Another should have preached
on the Monday, but he fell indisposed. It was the Lady Culross who
was there, and had special intimacy with Mr. Livingstone, that put
the ministers upon employing him. The minister’s name, at that
time, was Mr. Home, a man of an easy temper, and n0 persecutor.”
And, after stating that the Marchioness of Hamilton had conferred
some particular favour on Mr. Home; that Mr. Home allowed her
to name the ministers he should have with him at the communion,
Mr. Dickson, Mr. Bruce, and others, who all came, with a great
many Christians, at the Lady’s invitation, who was herself an excel-
lent woman, Wodrow adds, “That he [Mr. Law] hears the particular
occasion of the first sensible motion among the people was this—
in the time of Mr. Livingstone’s sermon there was a soft shower
of rain, and when the people began to stickle about, he said to
this purpose, ‘What a mercy is it that the Lord sifts that rain
through these heavens on us, and does not rain down fire and
brimstone, as he did upon Sodom and Gomorrah.’ ” He farther
adds, “ This night Mr. George Barclay tells me that he dis-
coursed Mr. Livingstone himself in Holland upon this communion,
and he told him that he was such a stranger to all the ministers
there, that the Lady Culross was the person that put the ministers
upon him, the mimster that should have preached having fallen
sick; that it was somewhat that incidentally he spoke that gave
occasion to the motion among the people, and Mr. Barclay repeated
the words above; and Mr. Livingstone added, ‘Brother, when you
are strongly pressed to say any thing you have not premeditated,
do not offer to stop it; you know not what God has to do with it.”’
Analecta, vol. i., p. 271. There is one point in these two accounts
as to which there seems to be some discrepancy. According to Mr.
Law, Messrs. Dickson and Bruce were among the ministers present;
and, according to Mr. Barclay, Livingstone was “ a stranger to all
the ministers there.” But Livingstone, before he was licensed to
preach, knew at least Mr. Bruce, who, as he informs us in his Life,
had been in the habit of assisting his father at Lanark at the cele-
bration of the Lord’s Supper.
1 Select Biographies printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 348.
2 Ibid, vol. i., p. 146.
3 The book of canons received the royal sanction, and became law
in 1635. The service/book, or litiu'gy, was enjoined to be used by
act of Privy Council, 20th December, 1636, and the act was the
following day proclaimed at the Cross of Edinburgh; but the liturgy
itself was not published till towards the end of May, 1637. These
two books were extremely unpopular in Scotland, both because they
were forced upon the church solely by royal authority, without the
consent of the church herself, or without her having been even con-
sulted, and because of the matter contained in them. The book of
canons, among other things objected to, asserted the king’s supre-
macy in all causes, ecclesiastical as well as civil, enjoined various
unwarranted and superstitious rites in the observance of baptism
and the Lord’s 'Supper, proscribed sessions and presbyteries, and
invested the bishops with uncontrollable power. The service-book
was just the English liturgy with numerous alterations, by which
it approached nearer the Roman missal.





LADY BOYD. " 5




the marchioness warmly espoused the cause of
the Covenant. Possessed of a strong and mascu-
line spirit, she displayed an undaunted heroism in
the cause, which neither the sight of personal
danger nor the partiality of maternal affection could
subdue. When her son James, Marquis, after-
wards Duke of Hamilton, who sided with Charles
I. against the Covenanters, conducted an English
fleet to the Forth, in 1639, to overawe them, she
appeared on horseback, with two pistols by her
side, at the head of a troop of horse, among the
intrepid thousands who lined the shores of Leith
on that occasion, to resist his landing, and, drawing
one of her pistols from her saddle—bow, declared she
would be the first to shoot him should he presume
to land and attack the troops of the covenant.1 It
is said that she had even loaded her pistols with
balls of gold ; but this rests on very doubtful autho-
rity.2 It is certain, however, that when the Mar-
quis cast anchor in the Forth, near Leith, loitering
for the king, whose army was marching into Scot-
land to his assistance, she paid him a visit on heard
his vessel. The particulars of this interview have
not been recorded; but the people anticipated from
it the most favourable results. “ The son of such a

1 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 704.
2 “ The story about the ‘ balls of gold,’ rests on the authority of
Gordon of Straloch’s MS. (none of the purest to be sure); but the
manly heroism of the old marchioness is noticed by Spang, Hist.
Motuum, p. 357.”—M‘Crie’s Sketches of Scottish Church History,
‘Ed edition, p. 255.

mother,” they said, “will do us no harm.”1 Nor
did they suffer any harm. The spirited conduct
and intercession of his mother, it is supposed, was
one cause which prevented the Marquis’s debarka-
tion of his troops. Other causes, however, seem to
have contributed to this. The number of his troops,
which amounted only to about three or four thousand,
was too small for the occasion. Besides, hearing
that a part of the English army, being encountered
by the Scots at Kelso, were defeated, with a loss of
three hundred men, and put to flight, he was not in
a disposition to engage with the Covenanters, who
gave such decided proofs of earnestness; and soon
after a paeification was concluded between them and
the king, at the Birks of Berwick.
Respecting this lady, we meet with no additional
facts, except that her last will is dated 4th Novem-
ber, 1644: ; and that she died in 16117 .2
It may be added, that there is a portrait of the
marchioness in Pinkerton’s Scottish Gallery of Por-
traits, vol. ii. “The portrait,” says Pinkerton,
“corresponds with the masculine character of the
marchioness.” He adds, “Johnson, the ingenious
limner, died before he had finished the drapery of
this drawing, which is from a painting by Jameson,
at Taymouth.”

1Whitelocke’s Memorials, p. 29. Whitelocke terms her “ a rigid
Covenantcr.”
1 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 207 ; Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 7 04.

LADY
LADY BOYD, whose maiden name was Christian
Hamilton, was the only child of Sir Thomas Hamil-
ton of Priestfield, afterwards first Earl of Hadding-
ton, by his first wife Margaret, daughter of James
Borthwick of Newbyres. Her father, who studied law
in France, was, on his returning to Scotland, admitted
advocate, on the lst of November, 1587; and, soon
distinguishing himself at the bar by his talents
and learning, he was, on the 2d of November, 1592,
appointed a Lord of Session, by the title of Lord
Drumcairn. In February, 1596, he became King’s
Advocate; and in May, 1612, Lord Clerk Register
of Scotland. He was next invested with the offices
of Secretary of State and President of the Court of
Session, which he retained till the 5th of February,
1626, when he was constituted Keeper of the Privy
Seal; and on the 27th of August, 1627, he was

BOYD.
created Earl of Haddington. He died on the 29th
of May, 1637, in the 711th year of his age. By
means of the lucrative oflices he held, he acquired
one of the largest fortunes of his time.1
The subject of this notice was first married to
Robert, ninth Lord Lindsay of Byres, who died at
Bath, on 9th of July, 1616. To him she had a son,
John, tenth Lord Lindsay of Byres, afterwards Earl
of Crawford-Lindsay; and a daughter, Helen,
married to Sir William Scot of Ardross? She did
not long remain a widow, having married, for her
second husband, in the year 1617, Robert, sixth
Lord Boyd} an excellent man, who studied at

1 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., pp. 678, 679.
2 Ibid, vol. i., pp. 386, 679.
3 The marriage contract between her and that nobleman bears the



6 THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.




Saumur, under his cousin, the famous Mr. Robert
Boyd of Trochrig, from whom he seems to have
derived, in addition to secular learning, much reli-
gious advantage.
Like the .Marchioness of Hamilton, Lady Boyd
joined the ranks of the Presbyterians who resisted
the attempts of James VI. and Charles I. to impose
prelacy upon the Church of Scotland. With many
of the most eminent ministers of those times, as Mr.
Robert Bruce, Mr. Robert Boyd, Mr. Robert Blair,
Mr. Samuel Rutherford, and Mr. John Livingstone,
she was on terms of intimate friendship; and her
many Christian virtues procured her a high place
in their esteem, and, indeed, in the esteem of all
ranks and classes of her countrymen. Experiencing
in her own heart the saving influence of divine
truth, she was desirous that others, in like man-
ner, might experience its saving power; and with
this view she encouraged the preaching of the gospel,
exercising a generous hospitality and liberality to-
wards its ministers, receiving them into her house,
and supplying them with money. In his Life,
written by himself, Mr. John Livingstone speaks of
residing for some time, during the course of his
ministry, in the house of Kilmarnock, with “worthy
Lady Boyd; ” and mentions her as one of four
ladies of ra 1“ of whom he got at several times
supply of money.”
During the struggles of the Presbyterians in be-
half of the liberties of the church, for many years pre-
vious to the second Reformation, it was the practice
of the more zealous among them, both with the view
of promoting their own personal piety and of com-
mending to God the desolate condition of the church,
to hold meetings in various parts of the country,
for humiliation and prayer, on such stated days as
were agreed upon by general correspondence. And
such as could not conveniently attend at the par-
ticular place fixed upon in the part of the country
where they resided, not unfrequently kept the diet


either at their own house or at the house of a
friend, where a few assembled; and in these cases
they endeavoured, if possible, to obtain the presence
of a minister. Of these private social meetings
Lady Boyd was an encourager ; and when it was
inconvenient or impossible for her to be present at
the appointed place of meeting in her locality, she
spent the day in humiliation and prayer in her own
house. A letter which she wrote to Mr. Robert
Boyd of Trochrig, then principal of the college of
Glasgow, requesting him to favour her with his pre-
sence at her house on one of these occasions, has
been preserved, and may be given as illustrating
the pious spirit by which she was distinguished. It
is without date, but from the subject matter, it was
probably written about 1620 or 1621, and is as fol-
lows :—
“ RIGHT IIONOURABLE SIR,—Seeing it hath pleased
God, my husband,—my lord is content that I bring
the bairns to the landwart,1 I thought good to adver-
tise you of it, that you may do me that great plea-
sure as to come and bring your wife with you, on
Thursday, for I would fain have good company
that day, since I have great need of help, being of
myself very unable to spend that day as I ought.
Now seeing it hath pleased God to move your heart
to take care of my soul, and to be very comfortable
to me, being he to whom only I have opened my
secret griefs, and of whom I must crave counsel in
those things which my other friends cannot, and
shall not, know. It is common to God’s children
and the wicked to be under crosses, but crosses
chase God’s children to him. O that any thing
would chase me to my God. But, alas ! that which
chases others to God, by the strength of sin it holds
me further from God; for I am seeking for comfort
in outward things, and the Lord will not let me find
it there. When I should pray or read God’s word,
or hear it preached or read, then my mind is pos-
sessed with thoughts how to eschew temporal grief,
or how to get temporal contentment. But, alas!
this doing is a building up of mountains betwixt my
soul and the sense of God’s presence, which only
ministers contentment to a soul; and by thus
doing, I deserve to be plunged in infinite and end-
less grief. Now, Sir, I will not trouble you longer
with this discourse. Hoping to see you shortly,
“ I rest your loving sister in Christ,
“ CHRISTIAN Hammers.’
“ Badenheath.”
date of that year. Chalmers’ MS. account of the Noble Families
of Scotland, in Advocates’ Library, volume i., p. 22. Lord Boyd
was a widower, having been previously married to Lady Mar-
garct Montgomery, daughter of Robert Montgomery of Giffen, and
relict of Hugh, fifth Earl of Eglinton. (Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii.,
p. 35.) The marriage contract between him and this lady is dated
October, 1614; and in reference to this marriage, writing, June 22,
1614, from London to his cousin, Mr. Robert Boyd of Trochrig, then
on the Continent, he says, “Sir George [Elphingstoun] and Sir
Thomas have told me their commission, which is marriage with
the Earl of Eglinton his wife [widow] and has shown me many good
reasons.” Wodrow’s Life of Robert Boyd of Trochrig, printed by
the Maitland Club, p. 114.
1 The other ladies were the Countess of Wigton, Lady Innerteel,
and the Countess of Eglinton. Select Biographies printed for the
Wodrow Society, vol. i., p. 148.
1 “Landwart,” Scottice for “ country.”
2 Wodrow’s Life of Robert Boyd, pp. 271, 272. Wodrow says that
“ she writes in a. very fair hand for that time.”


LADY BOYD. 7



These religious meetings, which contributed
greatly to foster a spirit of opposition to the inno-
vations then attempted to be imposed upon the
Church of Scotland, the bishops regarded with great
jealousy, and they endeavoured, if possible, to put
them down by forcible means. Mr. Robert Bruce
having held two of them in his own house at
Monkland, after his return to the south from In-
verness, whither he had been banished for several
years on account of his principles, he was delated
to the king; and though the meetings were private,
the number present at them not exceeding twenty,
he was, in consequence, forced to retire from M onk-
land, and was ultimately again banished to Inver-
ness. Mr. Robert Boyd, the correspondent of Lady
Boyd, was also, for patronising such meetings,
greatly harassed. After the passing of the Perth
Articles in the General Assembly of 1618, Boyd,
though opposed to these articles, had not, owing to
the mildness and peaceableness of his disposition,
interfered publicly with the controversies thereby
occasioned; from which the bishops concluded that,
if not friendly to the innovations, he was at least
neutral ; but his attendance at these meetings in
Mr. Bruce’s house,‘ and at similar meetings in other
places, excited against him the hostility of the
bishops and of the king, who, inferring from this his
nonconforming propensities, immediately began to
contemplate the adoption of harsh measures against
him.2 In these circumstances, Lady Boyd ad-
dressed to him an encouraging letter. It is well
written, and bears testimony to the high opinion
she entertained of Boyd, as a man and a Christian
minister, as well as finely illustrates the heroic
spirit by which she was animated, and shows how
well qualified she was to cheer up the hearts of
such as were subjected to persecution for righteous-
ness’ sake. It is dated December 17, but the year
is omitted. Its contents, however, indicate that it
was written in the year 1621; and it is as follows :—
“ RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR,—--I hear there is some
appearance of your trouble, by reason the King’s
Majesty is displeased with you for your being with
Mr. Robert Bruce. Since I heard of these unplea-
sant news, I have had a great desire to see you, for
whatsoever is a grief to you is also grievous to me,
for, since it pleased God to bring me to acquaint-
ance with you, your good advice and pious instruc-
tions have ofttimes refreshed my very soul; and
now, if I be separated from you, so as not to have
occasion to pour out my griefs unto you, and receive
counsel and comfort from you, truly I wot not
what to do. And as I regret my own particular
loss, much more may I regret the great loss our
kirk sustains, and is threatened with. But as
for you, if the Lord should honour you, and set you
to suffer for his name, I trust in his mercy he shall
strengthen you, and make his power perfect in your
weakness. The apostles rejoiced that they were
counted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ,
and the apostle says, ‘Unto you it is given in the
behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but
also to suffer for his sake.’ Now if ye be called
to this honour, I pray God give you his grace, that
ye may account it your honour, for if ye suffer with
Christ, you shall also reign with him. I trust in
the mercy of God that all things shall work together
for the best to you. If it might please our God,
who is merciful, to continue you in your ministry,
I humbly crave it; but if he will glorify himself in
your suffering, his good will be done. Ye will lose
nothing here, and what ye lose it will be recom-
pensed a hundred-fold. The loss will be ours, who
are left as sheep without a shepherd, ready to
wander and be devoured of wolves. Now if I have
a wandering soul, the Lord in mercy pity me ! for I
am afraid of making defection, if the bread of life be
not continued with me. In sincerity, it will not be
philosophy nor eloquence will draw me from the
broad way of perdition, unless a voice be lifted up
like a trumpet to tell me my sin. The Lord give
us the spirit of wisdom, even that wisdom that will
prove wise in the end, when the wise men of this
world will be calling upon the hills and the menu-
tains! O Lord, give us grace to provide our oil
here, that we may enter in with the bridegroom,
and be made partakers of his riches and joy, when
they that have embraced the world and denied
Christ shall have their portion with the devil! Sir,
I will not trouble you further at this time. If you
have leisure I would be glad to see you, or at any
other time, and to hear from you. So, remembering
my duty to your wife, and commending you and her
and the children to God,
“I rest your most affectionate sister at power,
“ CHRISTIAN HAnILToN.‘
“Badenheath, Dec. 17.”
From this letter it appears that Lady Boyd sat
under the ministry of Mr. Boyd,2 which she greatly
valued, as she had good reason to do, if we may


1 Boyd regarded Bruce with peculiar respect and veneration.
Speaking of him, he says, “whom one may call justly the Basile or
Bernard of our age.”-—Wodrow’s Life of Boyd, p.10. 2 Ibid. p. 151.
1 Wodrow’s Life of Robert Boyd, pp. 272, 273.
2 At the time this Letter was written, Boyd, besides being Prin
cipal of the College of Glasgow, was minister of Govan.


8 THE LADIES or THE COVENANT,





judge of his pastoral instructions from the specimens
of his theological writings which have been pub-
lished; and Boyd, having become obnoxious to the
bishops and the king, she was apprehensive of being
deprived of his public ministrations, as well as of his
society in private, by his being removed from his
charge, and perhaps obliged to leave the country.
The result was, that demitting his situation as
principal of the college of Glasgow, he retired to his
estate of Trochrig, and afterwards, to the day of his
death, suffered, in various ways, on account of his
nonconformity. “ It is not easy,” says ‘Wodrow,
“upon such a subject not to mix a little gall with
my ink ; but I shall only say, it’s a remaining stain,
and must be, in the eyes of all that fear God, and
know what prayer is, upon the bishops of this
period, and the government who were brought, by
their importunity, to persecute such eminent persons
as Mr. Bruce and Mr. Boyd, for joining in such
meetings for prayer, in sucha time as this. Mr. Bruce
was confined; Mr. Boyd was informed against to
the king; and this, as the writer of his life notices,
was one main spring of the violent opposition made
against him. Such procedure, no doubt, is a reproach
upon a Protestant, yea upon a country that bears
the name of Christian.”1
As another specimen of the pious spirit which
breathed in Lady Boyd’s epistolary correspondence,
we may quote another of her letters to Mr. Boyd,
which is without date, but which Wodrow supposes
was written about harvest 1622. She thus writes:
“ My husband has written for me to come to your
feast, but in truth it were better for me to be called
to a fast. I trow 2 the Lord of Hosts is calling to
weeping, and fasting, and sackcloth. I pray you,
Sir, remember me in your prayers to God, that he
may supply to me the want of your counsels and
comforts, and all other wants to me; and that at
this time, and at all other times, he would give me
grace to set his majesty before me, that I may walk
as in his sight, and study to approve myself to him.
N ow Sir, I entreat you when you have leisure write
to me, and advertise me how ye and yours are, and
likewise stir me up to seek the Lord. Show me
how I shall direct to you, for I must crave leave to
trouble you at some times. Now I pray God to
recompense ten thousand fold your kindness to me,
with the daily increase of all saving grace here, and
endless glory hereafter. Remember me to Mr.
Zachary; desire him to come and hear my lord
company awhile after ye are settled. I entreat,

when you come back again to Glasgow, that you may
come here, for I think I have not taken my leave
of you yet. Till then and ever,
“I rest your loving sister in Christ to my power,
“ CHRISTIAN HmniLrou.”l
In 1628 Lady Boyd was left a widow a second time,
Lord Boyd having died in August that year, at the
early age of To this nobleman she had a son,
Robert seventh Lord Boyd, and six daughters:
1. Helen, who died unmarried; 2. Agnes, married to
Sir George Morison of Dairsie, in Fife; 3. Jean,
married to Sir Alexander Morison of Prestongrange,
in the county of Haddington; 41-3131'1011, married to
Sir James Dundas of Arnistoun; 5. Isabel, married
first to John Sinclair of Stcvenston, secondly to John
Grierson of Lagg; and 6. Christian, married to Sir
William Scot of I-Iarden.‘~’
At the period of the attempted imposition of the
book of canons and the service book or liturgy upon
the Scottish Church, by royal authority, many,
both ministers and laity, were subjected to persecu-
tion for resisting these invasions on the liberties
of the church; and to such persons, as might be
anticipated from the benevolence of her character
and her ecclesiastical principles, Lady Boyd was
at all times heartily disposed to extend her encour-
agement and aid by letter, word, or deed. When
Rutherford was confined to Aberdeen, she maintained
epistolary intercourse with him; and that worthy
minister repeatedly expresses how much his soul
was refreshed by her letters, as well as gratefully
acknowledges that she “ministered to him in his
bonds.” 3 She also took a friendly interest in his
brother, Mr. George, who was a teacher in Kirk-
cudbright, but who, for nonconformity, had been
summoned in Nov. 1636, before the high commission,
and condemned to resign his charge and to remove
from Kirkcudbright before the ensuing term of Whit-
sunday.‘ Rutherford frequently expresses his
gratitude to her for her kindness to his brother,
who, after his ejection, had taken refuge in Ayrshire.
He thus writes to her from Aberdeen, March 7,
1637: “I think myself many ways obliged to your
ladyship for your love to my afilicted brother, now
embarked with me in that same cause. His Lord
hath been pleased to put him on truth’s side. I
hope that your ladyship will befriend him with
your counsel and countenance in that country where
he is a stranger; and your ladyship needeth not fear


1 Wodrow’s Life of Robert Boyd, p. 151.
2 “ Trow,” Scottice for “ believe.”
1 Wodrow’s Life of Robert Boyd, pp. 273, 274.
2 Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. ii, p. 35.
3 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 205, 617, Whyte and Kennedy’s
edition, 1818. 4 Murray's Life of Rutherford, pp. 49, 93



LADY
BOYD. 9



but your kindness to his own will be put up into
Christ’s accounts.”1 In another letter to her from
the same place, in September, that year, he says,
“All that yourLadyship can expect for your good will
to me and my brother, (a wronged servant for Christ)
is the prayers of a prisoner of Jesus, to whom I
recommend your Ladyship, and your house, and
children.” 2 And in a communication to her from
St. Andrews, in 1640, a considerable time after he
had returned from his confinement in Aberdeen, he
thus expresses himself: “I put all the favours which
you have bestowed on my brother, upon Christ’s
score, in whose books are many such counts, and
who will requite them.”
Meanwhile she was not neglectful of the cul-
tivation of personal piety. As she advanced in
life she continued with increasing ardour to prac-
tise the christian duties, to cultivate holiness of
character, to confide in the Saviour, and to make
sure of eternal life. That such were her christian
aspirations, endeavours, and attainments is evident
from her correspondence with the same excellent
man; from which we learn, that as the Father of
lights had opened her eyes to discover that who-
ever would be a Christian in deed and in truth must
exercise self denial, she was resolved to practise
that duty,—to pluck out the right eye, and to cut off
the right hand, and keep fast hold of the Son of God;
that she had not changed in the thoughts she had
entertained of Christ; and that her purpose still was
by all means to take the kingdom of heaven by
violence.‘ It was indeed her personal piety which
excited and enlivened her zeal in the public cause
of God; and her valued correspondent, satisfied that
the more she improved in the former, she would be
the more distinguished for the latter, expresses his
desire in a letter to her, in 16110, that she might be
builded more and more upon the stone laid in Zion,
and then she would be the more fit to have a hand in
rebuilding our Lord’s fallen tabernacle in this land,
“in which,” he adds, “ ye shall find great peace when
ye come to grip with death, the king of terrors.” 5
As a means of promoting her spiritual improvement
she was in the practice of keeping a diary, in which
she recorded her religious exercises and experiences,
her defects and attainments, her sins and mercies;
an expedient which Christians have sometimes found
to be of great utility in promoting their vigilance,
humility, gratitude and dependence upon God.
“ She used every night,” says Mr. John Livingstone,
“to write what had been the state of her soul all
the day, and what she had observed of the Lord’s

1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 205.
5 Ibid.. 0. 606. 1 Ibid., pp. 205, 492.
9 Ibid., p. 491.
5 Ibid., p. 606.
“
dealing.” 1 Such memorandums she, however,
appears to have intended solely for her own eye;
and no remains of them have been transmitted to
posterity.
In the autumn of the year 1640, Lady Boyd met
with a painful trial in the death of three of her
brothers, and others of her relatives, in very distres-
sing circumstances. Thomas, second earl of Had-
dington, and Robert Hamilton of West Binning, in
the county of Linlithgow, her brothers by her father’s
second wifef’ Patrick Hamilton, her natural brother,
Sir John Hamilton of Redhouse, her cousin-german,
and Sir Alexander Erskine, fourth son of the seventh
earl of Mar, brother-in-law to her brother Thomas,
all perished at Dunglass castle (in the county of
Haddington) when it was blown up on the 30th of
August that year. They had attached themselves to
the Covenanters; and when General Leslie marched
into England that same year against Charles I., they
were left behind by the Scottish Parliament, in order
to resist the English incursions, and Thomas, second
Earl of Haddington, who had the command of the
party thus left, fixed his quarters at Dunglass castle.
While his lordship, about mid-day, on the 30th of
August, was standing in a court of the castle sur-
rounded by his friends now named, and several other
gentlemen, to whom he was reading a letter he had
just received from General Leslie, a magazine of
gunpowder contained in a vault in the castle blew
up; and one of the side walls instantly overwhelmed
him and all his company, with the exception of four,
who were thrown by the force of the explosion to a
considerable distance. The earl’s body was found
among the rubbish and buried at Tyninghame.
Besides this nobleman, three or four score of gentle-
men lost their lives. It was reported that the
magazine was designedly blown up by the earl’s page,
Edward Paris, an English boy, who was so enraged,
on account of his master having jestingly told him
that his countrymen were a pack of cowards, to
suffer themselves to be beaten and to run away at
Newburn, that he took a red hot iron and thrust it
into one of the powder barrels, perishing himself
with the rest. 3 One of the most beautiful of
Rutherford’s letters was addressed to Lady Boyd on
this melancholy occasion. “ I wish,” says he, “ that
I could speak or write what might do good to your
ladyship, especially now when I think we cannot
but have deep thoughts of the deep and bottomless

1 Livingstone’s Memorable Characteristics.
1 Her father’s second wife was Margaret, daughter of James
Foulis of Colinton, in the county of Edinburgh.
3 Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i., p.680. Scot’s Staggering

State of Scots statesmen.
B . _l


‘l‘HE LADIES 01*‘
THE COVEN AN '1‘.





ways of our Lord, in taking away with a sudden and
wonderful stroke your brothers and friends You
may know that all who die for sin, die not in sin:
and that ‘none can teach the Almighty knowledge.’
He answereth none of our courts, and no man can
say, ‘ What doest then P’ It is true that your
brothers saw not many summers, but adore and fear
the sovereignty of the great Potter who maketh and
marreth his clay-vessels when and how it pleaseth
him. . . Oh what wisdom is it to believe,
and not to dispute; to subject the thoughts to his
court, and not to repine at any act of his justice?
He hath done it; all flesh be silent! It is impos-
sible to be submissive and religiously patient, if you
stay your thoughts down among the confused rol-
lings and wheels of second causes; as, ‘Oh, the
place!’ ‘Oh, the time!’ ‘ Oh, if this had been, this
had not followed! ’ ‘ Oh, the linking of this accident
with this time and place!’ Look up to the master
motion and the first wheel. I believe,
christian lady, your faith leaveth that much charity
to our Lord’s judgments as to believe, howbeit you
be in blood sib to that cross, that yet you are exempt-
ed and freed from the gall and wrath that is in it.
I dare not deny but ‘the king of terrors dwelleth in
the wicked man’s tabernacle: brimstone shall be
scattered on his habitation,’ (Job xviii. 15;) yet,
Madam, it is safe for you to live upon the faith of
his love, whose arms are over-watered and pointed
with love and mercy to his own, and who knoweth
how to take you and yours out of the roll and book
of the dead.” ‘
In less than three months after this visitation,
Lady Boyd lost her son Lord Boyd, who died of a
fever on the 17th of November, 1640, at the early
age of twenty-four. 2 But her sorrow under this
bereavement was alleviated from the hope which, on
good grounds, she was enabled to entertain that her
so 11, who was deservedly dear to her, bad exchanged
the present for a better world. Trained up in the
fear of God, he gave pleasing indications of early
piety, and embracing the sentiments of the Cove-
nanters, entered with all the interest and ardour of
youthful zeal into their contendings, against the
encroachments of the court on the rights of the
church. To this ample testimony is borne in
Rutherford’sLetters. Writingto him from Aberdeen
in 1637, Rutherford, hearing of his zeal for the
“borne-down and oppressed gospel,” affectionately
stimulates him to continued exertion in the same
cause; and in a subsequent letter to him he says,
“ I am glad to hear that you, in the morning of your

IRufherford’s Letters, p. 617, 618.
2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii. p. 635, 636
‘.—
short day, mind Christ, and that you love the honour
of his crown and kingdom ..... ..Ye are one of Zion’s
born sons ; your honourable and christian parents
would venture you upon Christ’s errands.”l Ad-
dressing Lady Boyd from Aberdeen, May 1, 1637,
Rutherford thus writes: “ I have reasoned with your
son, at large; I rejoice to see him set his face in
the right airth, now when the nobles love the sunny
side of the gospel best, and are afraid that Christ
want soldiers, and shall not be able to do for him-
self.”2 And in another letter to her he expresses
his gratitude to this generous and benevolent youth,
“who,” says he, “ was kind to me in my bonds, and
was not ashamed to own me.” 3 Lord Boyd was one
of those noblemen who, on the 22d of February, 1638,
ascended the cross of Edinburgh, to protest against
the proclamation which was that day made, con-
taining his Majesty’s approbation of the service-
book, granting a dispensation to the noblemen and
gentlemen who opposed it for their past meetings,
and discharging all their meetings for the future
under pain of treason.4 He subscribed the national
covenant when renewed on the 1st of March that
year, in the Greyfriars’ church; and zealously co-
operated with the Covenanters in their proceedings
in opposition to the measures of the court.
In her other son, John, tenth Lord Lindsay, after-
wards Earl of Crawford-Lindsay, Lady Boyd had also
much comfort. His religious sentiments coincided
with her own, and his active zeal in defending the
liberties of the church, was associated with sincere
piety and a high character for moral worth, which
he maintained unimpaired to the close of a long life.
In a letter to him from Aberdeen in September
1637, Rutherford writes, “ Your noble ancestors
have been enrolled amongst the Worthies of this
nation, as the sure friends of the bridegroom, and
valiant for Christ: I hope that you will follow on
to come to the streets for the same Lord.”5 Nor
was the hope thus expressed disappointed. He was
also one of the noblemen who, on the 22d of February,
1638, appeared at the cross of Edinburgh, to pro-
test against his Majesty’s proclamation already re-
ferred to. He likewise subscribed the national cove-
nant when renewed at Edinburgh a few days after,
and cordially supported the Covenanters, attending
their meetings, and giving them the benefit of his
counsel and aid.6 He thus secured a high place in
the confidence of his party. IVriting of this nobleman
and of Lord Boyd, to their mother, Rutherford says,
“Your ladyship is blessed with children who are


1 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 139, 469.
2 Ibid, p. 548.
2 Ibid, p. 308.
4 Rothes’s Relation, &c., p. 67.
5 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 466. 6 Rothes’s Relation, &e., parsim-




LADY BOYD. l. l.




honoured to build up Christ’s waste places. I
believe that your ladyship will think them well
bestowed in that work, and that Zion’s beauty is
your joy.” 1
Some of Lady Boyd’s daughters were also dis-
tinguished for personal piety, and for a resolute
adherence to duty in the face of persecution. The
sufferings endured by her daughter Christian, the
wife of Sir William Scot of Harden, in the reign of
Charles II., for attending conventicles, have been
already briefly stated in the Introduction. We also
know that another of her daughters, Helen, wife of
Sir William Scot of Ardross, was an excellent woman.
Rutherford when in London, in 1640 and in 16kt,
corresponded with Lady Boyd, giving her accounts
of the state of religious parties there, and informing
her of the proceedings of the Westminster Assembly,
of which he was a member.2
During the latter part of the year 1644, when the
Marquis of Montrose came into Scotland, and during
the greater part of the following year, our country
suffered much from that ruthless renegade, who with
an army composed of Highlanders and Irish papists,
perpetrated the most atrocious deeds of cruelty, lust
and rapine. But in September, 1645, he was com-
pletely defeated at Philiphaugh by Lieutenant-Gene-
ral David Leslie, who had come home with some
regiments from England, where the regular troops of
Scotland had been engaged. The joy which this
victory diffused among our countrymen was great. As
an evidence of this, we may mention the following
incident, which took place on a Sabbath day at the
parish church of Elie, where Lady Boyd was present
hearing sermon. About the close of the afternoon’s
discourse by Mr. Robert Traill, the minister of the
parish, David Lindsay, brother to Lord Balcarres,
came into the church with a letter to her from her
son, Earl of Crawford-Lindsay, containing the tidings
of Montrose’s defeat. Public worship being con-
cluded, he delivered it to her in the church, and the
people all staying to hear the news, the letter was
read. On hearing its contents, they were so over-
joyed, that they all returned into the church and
solenmly gave thanks to God for the deliverance
vouchsafed to the country, by this signal victory
gained over an enemy, whose successes had made
him formidable, and his barbarities very generally
detested.3

Lady Boyd died in the house of her daughter
Lady Ardross, in the parish of Elie, about the
beginning of the year 1646. On her death bed she
was frequently visited by Mr. Robert Traill, minister
of that parish, who informs us in his Diary, that she
died very comfortably.l Her funeral took place
on the 6th of February, and was attended by a
large concourse of people of all ranks. All the
members of Parliament, which had been sitting in
St. Andrews, were invited to it; and though the
Parliament closed on the 4th of that month, all its
members staid in town, partly because the next day
was appointed to be kept as a day of solemn humilia-
tion through the whole kingdom, and partly to testify
their respect for this lady, by following her mortal
remains to their last resting-place. Mr. Robert
Blair, then minister of St. Andrews, who was well
acquainted with her, and who highly appreciated the
excellence of her christian character, also paid to
her this last tribute of friendship, and wrote two
epitaphs in honour of her memory, the one in Latin
and the other in English ;2 neither of which, how-
ever, we have seen. Rutherford, who was at that
timeinLondon,attendingthe WestminsterAssembly,
on hearing of the death of a friend and correspondent
he so highly esteemed, addressed to her daughter,
Lady Ardross, a consolatory letter. “It hath
seemed good, as I hear,” says he, “to Him that
hath appointed the bounds for the number of our
months, to gather in a sheaf of ripe corn, in the
death of your christian mother, into his garner. It
is the more evident that winter is near, when apples,
without the violence of wind, fall of their own accord
off the tree. She is now above the winter, with a
little change of place, not of a Saviour; only she
enjoyeth him now without messages, and in his
own immediate presence, from whom she heard by
letters and messengers before.” He farther says,
“ Ye may easily judge, madam, what a large recom-
pense is made to all her service, her walking with
God, and her sorrows, with the first cast of the
soul’s eye upon the shining and admirably beautiful
face of the Lamb that is in the midst of that fair
and white army which is there, and with the first
draught and taste of the fountain of life, fresh and
new at the well’head; to say nothing of the enjoy-
ing of that face, without date, far more than this
term of life which we now enjoy. And it cost her
no more to go thither than to suffer death to do her
this piece of service: for by Him who was dead and
is alive, she was delivered from the second death.

lRutherford’s Letters, p. 605. The letter is dated St. Andrews
16%0. For a farther account of Lord Lindsay, sec Notice of Duchess
of Rothcs.
2 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 625, 632.
3 Extracts from Mr. Robert Traill’s Diary, in MS. Letters to
Wodrow, vol. no. 68., in Advocates’ Library.
1 Extracts from Mr. Robert Traill’s Diary, in MS. Letters to
Wodrow, vol. xix. no. 68.
2 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 180.


12
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





What then is the first death to the second? Not a
scratch of the skin of a finger to the endless second
death. And now she sitteth for eternity mail-free,
in a very considerable land, which hath more than
four summers in the year. Oh, what spring-time is
there! Even the smelling of the odours of that
great and eternally blooming Rose of Sharon for
ever and ever! What a singing life is there! There
is not a dumb bird in all that large field; but all
sing and breathe out heaven, joy, glory, dominion
to the High Prince of that new-found land. And
verily, the land is the sweeter, that Jesus Christ

paid so dear a rent for it, and he is the glory of the
land: all which,” he adds, for Lady Ardross, as has
been said before, was a woman of like spirit with
her mother, “I hope, doth not so much mitigate and
allay your grief for her part, (though truly this
should seem sufficient) as the unerring expectation
of the dawning of that day upon yourself, and the
hope you have of the fruition of that same king and
kingdom to your own soul.”l

1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 655. See a letter of Mr. Robert
M‘ll'ard’s to Lady Ardross in A ppcndix, no. I.
ELIZABETH MELVILL, LADY CULROSS.
ELIZABETH MELvILL, a contemporary of the two
ladies previously noticed, was the daughter of Sir
James Melvill of Halhill in Fife. Her father, who
was one of the most accomplished statesmen and
courtiers of his age, was ambassador from Queen
Mary to Queen Elizabeth, and a privy counsellor to
king James VI. He was also a man of sincere piety,
and as Mr. John Livingstone informs us, “professed
he had got assurance from the Lord that himself,
wife, and all his children should meet in heaven.” 1
After a long and active life he died on the 13th
of November, 1617. Her mother was Christian,
seventh daughter of David Boswell of Balmutof’
Her husband, James Colvill, was the eldest son of
Alexander Colvill, commendator of Culross. On
the death of James, second Lord Colvill of Culross,
in 1640, he became of right third Lord Colvill, but
did not assume that title.
At what period the subject of this notice expe-
rienced the renewing grace of the Holy Spirit we are
ignorant, but few women of her day became more
eminent for exemplary piety and religious intelli-
gence, or more extensively known, and more highly
esteemed among the ministers and professors of the
Church of Scotland. Taking her place among those
who resisted the attempts made to wrest from the
church her own free and independent jurisdiction,
and to bring her in her worship and whole adminis-
tration under the entire control of the crown, she
interested herself greatly in their contendings. The
fortitude displayed by the defenders of truth and


freedom commanded her admiration: their sufferings
excited her sympathy. To these sentiments and
feelings she gave expression in the following sonnet
of her own composition, which she sent to Mr. John
Welsh, when, for holding a General Assembly at
Aberdeen in July, 1605, he was imprisoned in the
castle of Blackness, and so closely confined as to be
secluded from all intercourse with his friends:—
“My dear brother, with courage bear the cross,
Joy shall be joined with all thy sorrow here,
High is thy hope, disdain this earthly dross,
Once shall you see the wished day appear.
“ Now it is dark, the sky cannot be clear,
After the clouds it shall be calm anon;
Wait on his will whose blood hath bought thee dear“
Extol his name, though outward joys be gone.
“Look to the Lord, thou art not left alone,
Since he is thine, what pleasure eanst thou take
He is at hand, and hears thy every groan:
End out thy fight, and suffer for his sake.
“ A sight most bright thy soul shall shortly see,
When store of gloir1 thy rich reward shall be.” 2
The pious and generous feeling breathed in these
lines could not fail to gratify and encourage this
great and good man under his sufferings. In a
similar strain she wrote to Mr. William Rigg of
Athernie, bailie of Edinburgh, who was imprisoned in
Blackness castle, in1624,forrefusing to communicate
kneeling, after that practice had been introduced
into the churches of the city, reminding him, among
other things, by a pleasing and ingenious antithetic
play upon the name and gloom of his prison, “that

1 Livingstone’s Memorable Characteristics in Select Biographies,
printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 346.
9 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii. pp. 113, 310.
1 “ Gloir,” Scottz'ce for “ glory.”
9 Wodrow MSS., Adv. Lib., vol. xxix., 4to., no. 4.


LADY CULROSS. 13




the darkness of Blackness was not the blackness of
darkness.” 1

Blackness Castle. 1
How much her heart went along with the con-
tendings of the Presbyterians against the attempts
of James VI., to establish Prelacy and its ceremonies,
as well as how highly she was respected, is also
evident from the following incidental allusion to her
in Kirkton’s History. After stating that King James
in his old age undertook a journey to Scotland, to
establish the English ceremonies, the historian goes
on to say, “ So in a corrupt Assembly at Perth, he
first got his five articles concluded, and thereafter
enacted in Parliament at Edinburgh, in the year
1621. This Parliament was always by common
consent called ‘The Black Parliament,’ not only
because of the grievous acts made therein, but also
because of a number of dismal ominous prodigies
which attended it, the vote itself which accomplished
the design of the meeting being accompanied with
a horrible darkness, thundcrclaps, fire, and unheard
of tempest, to the astonishment of both Parliament
and city, as was observed by all. The bishops had
procured all the dissatisfied ministers to be dis-
charged the town, so divers of them, upon the last
day of the Parliament, went out to Shecns, near
Edinburgh, where in a friend’s house they spent the
day in fasting and prayer, expecting the event, of
which they were as then uncertain. After the aged
ministers had prayed in the morning with great
straitening, at length a messenger from the city, with
many tears, assured them all was concluded contrary
to their request. This brought them all into a fit


of heaviness, till a godly lady there present, desired
Mr. David Dickson, being at that time present,
might be employed to pray, and though he was at
that time but a young man, and not very consider-
able for his character, yet was he so wonderfully
assisted, and enlarged for the space of two hours,
that he made hold to prophesy, that from that dis-
couraging day and forward, the work of the gospel
should both prosper and flourish in Scotland, not-
withstanding all the laws made to the prejudice of
it.”1 Kirkton has not recorded the name of the
lady who suggested that Dickson should be employed
in prayer; but Livingstone, who narrates the same
incident in his Memorable Characteristics, informs
us that Lady Culross told him she was the person
by whom the suggestion was made.2
On the preaching of the gospel, Lady Culross
attended with exemplary regularity. She was also
much in the practice of frequenting sacramental
solemnities. In those days the dispensation of the
Lord’s Supper in the parishes of ministers famed
for preaching the gospel, was flocked to by vast
multitudes from the surrounding districts, so that
often many thousands were assembled together to
partake of, or to witness, this feast of love. These
were interesting occasions. They generally took
place in the summer season; and the sermons were
preached in the open air. The solemnity of the
public services powerfully engaged the attention as
well as affected the heart; and in the fervent love
which pervaded the private christian fellowship of
the people with one another, there was exhibited
a spectacle on which angels might have looked
with delight. The families of the parish, on whom
their minister was careful to enforce the duty
of entertaining strangers, from the consideration
that “thereby some have entertained angels un-
awares,” exemplified an open-hearted and open-
handed hospitality. Many of them accommodated
so great a number that their domestic circle had
the appearance of a small congregation, and it
seemed as if the primitive days of Christianity had
returned, when the disciples had all things in com-
mon. Thus Christians from different parts of the
country became acquainted with one another, fra-
ternal love was cultivated, and by their religious eon-
versation and devotional exercises, they strengthened
the ardour of their mutual piety. It is no wonder
that such seasons were looked forward to with
eager expectation, and that they left behind them
a refreshing and an ever-cherished remembrance.

1 Livingstone’s Characteristics in Select Biographies, printed for
the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 342.
2 For some account of this castle, see Life of Lady Caldwell.
1 Kirkton’s History, pp. 16, 17, 18.
9 Select Biographies printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 317.





14 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.






Few were more in the habit of waiting upon these
Observances than Lady Culross; and when circum-
stances prevented her from being present, she fre-
quently secured the services of a friend to take notes
of the sermons for her use. She indeed appears not
to have been without fears of exceeding in her
attendance on sacraments the bounds of duty, and
of thereby neglecting the concerns of her family at
home. At one time meeting with Euphan M‘Cullcn,
a poor but pious woman in the parish of Kilconquhar,
who was well known among the devout of her day,
and who is said to have seldom prayed without
getting a positive answer, Lady Culross requested
her to pray for her in regard to the outward con-
dition of her family. On being inquired at what
answer she had got, the good old woman replied that
the answer was, “He that provideth not for his
own house, hath denied the faith.” At which Lady
Culross said, “Now you have killed me; for I go
to preachings and communions here and there,
neglecting the care of my own family.” Euphan
replies, “Mistress, if you be guilty in that respect,
you have reason to be humbled for it; but it was
not said in that sense to me; but the Lord said, ‘ I
that have said, he that provideth not for his own
is worse than an infidel, will not I provide for her
and her house, seeing she is mine P’ ” 1
One of the principal places which Lady Culross
frequented for enjoying the sacrament of the Lord’s
Supper, was Lanark, the minister of which parish,
at that time, was Mr. William Livingstone, the
father of the celebrated Mr. John Livingstone,
minister of Ancrum. Residing in the family of
the minister of the parish on these solemnities,
and also occasionally at other times, she was struck
with the promising piety, the love of learning, and
the suavity of manners which characterized young
Livingstone, and seems to have early anticipated
his future eminence as a minister of the gospel,
as she did that of Mr. David Dickson, when an
obscure young man; for among other gifts which
distinguished her, she was an acute judge both of
character and talents. Livingstone, on the other
hand, formed a high estimate of her christian excel-
lence, as well as of her intellectual endowments; and
he records in his Life the benefit he derived from her
religious conversation and demeanour, during those
occasions on which she was a guest in his father’s
house? An intimate christian friendship thus came
to be formed between her and Livingstone, which
lasted till her death; and an epistolary intercourse

\ Livingstone’s Characteristics in Select Biographies, vol. i. p. 339.
2 Life of Mr. John Livingstone in Select Biographies, vol. i. p. 130.

was maintained between them. After the grave had
closed over her, Livingstone continued to retain a
lively and grateful recollection of her talents and
piety. In his Memorable Characteristics he has
given her a place among “the professors of the
church of Scotland, of his acquaintance, who were
eminent for grace and gifts ;” and he thus describes
her: “Of all that ever I saw, she was most un-
wearicd in religious exercises; and the more she
attained access to God therein, she hungered the
more. At the communion in Shotts, in June
1030, the night after the Sabbath was spent in
prayer by a great many Christians in a large room,
where her bed was; and in the morning all going
apart for their private devotion, she went into the
bed, and drew the curtains, that she might set her-
self to prayer. William Rigg of Athernie coming
into the room, and hearing her have great motion
upon her, although she spoke not out, he desired
her to speak out, saying that there was none in the
room but him and her woman, as at that time
there was no other. She did so, and the door being
opened, the room filled full. She continued in
prayer, with wonderful assistance, for large three
hours’ time”!
The account here given of Lady Cuh'oss’s ardent
devotional feeling, as it appeared at the communion
in Shotts, will perhaps excite the ridicule of some,
who maybe disposed to regard her as actuated more
by ostentation and enthusiasm, than by modest,
sincere, and enlightened piety. But a slight atten-
tion to the simplicity of the times in which she lived,
will show how little ground there is for pronouncing
so harsh a censure. More primitive in their manners
and habits than in the present day, the people of
those times are not to be judged of by modern cus-
toms, nor condemned for that which, though unfit
for imitation in the altered state of society, con-
veyed to their minds nothing inconsistent with true
delicacy. And before we censure her unusual
earnestness in prayer, and the uncommon length
of time during which the exercise was continued,
let us remember that in that age the influences of
the Holy Spirit were poured out upon the good in no
ordinary measure, imparting to them a high degree of
spiritual vitality, and giving a peculiar depth and
fervour to their piety. This consideration alone,
not to mention other considerations, will serve to
explain why public prayers and sermons, as well as
social prayer, protracted to an extent to which
the patience of few hearers would now be equal, so


1 Livingstone’s Memorable Characteristics in Select Biographies,
I vol. i. p. 346.


LADY CULROSS.
15


far from fatiguing, seemed only to refresh and
invigorate our hardier and more devout ancestors.
Nor is it to be forgotten, should we feel a tendency
to find fault with these simple annals of primitive
piety, that on the very day on which this lady was
engaged in the manner described, there took place
such a remarkable outpouring of the Spirit at the
kirk of Shotts, as has hardly been equalled since the
days of the apostles; and who can tell how far this
was vouchsafed in answer to the prayers of this
devout woman,—as well as in answer to the prayers
of those who passed the night between the Sabbath
and Monday morning in this excrcise,—poured forth
with great earnestness and importunity to Him,
who has promised the effusion of the Spirit upon
the church as the fruit of believing prayer? It is
also worthy of notice, that, as has been previously
stated, it was at her suggestion that the ministers
assisting in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper,
on that occasion, laid the work of addressing the
people on the Monday upon Mr. John Livingstone,
whose discourse was the instrument, in the hand of
the Spirit, of turning so many from darkness to
light, and from the power of Satan unto God.
These fruits of Mr. Livingstone’s ministry served
to increase the high estimation in which Lady
Culross held him, as an ambassador of Christ; and
upon the death of Mr. Robert Colvill, minister of
Culross, in 1630,l she was very desirous of having
him settled minister of that parish. This appears
from a letter she wrote to him, dated 25th March
1631. “ I confess,” says she, “ it is no time for me to
quarrel 2 now, when God. is quarrelling with us, and
has taken away our dear pastor, who has preached the
word of God among us almost forty years, plainly
and powerfully; a sore stroke to this congregation,
and chiefly to me, to whom he was not only a pastor
and a brother, but, under God, a husband and a
father to my children. Next his own family I have
the greatest loss. Your sudden voyage has troubled
me more since than ever, and many of this congre-
gation, who would have preferred you to others, and
would have used all means possible if you had been
in this land; but now I fear the charm is spilt: yet
you cannot go out of my mind, nor out of the mind
of some others, who wish you here with our hearts to
supply that place, and pray for it, if it be the Lord’s
will, though by appearance there is no possibility of

1 On December 5, 1640 [? 1630], this minister’s son, Mr. Robert
Colvill, in Culross, was retoured heir to his father in the lands of
N ether Kynnedder, in the regality of Dunfermline. Inquis. Retor.
Abbrev. Fife, no. 601.
"In the preceding part of the letter she had been blaming
Livingstone, who had gone to Ireland in the autumn of the year
1630, for his haste in leaving Scotland.

i

it, for I think they have agreed with another; yet if
God have a work, he can bring it about, and work
contrary to all means, for there is nothing too hard
for him.”1 The wish expressed in this letter was
not however gratified. The parish of Culross was
supplied with another minister, Mr. John Dun~
can, 2 and Livingstone remained in Ireland, but was
soon after, in consequence of his nonconformity,
first suspended from the exercise of his ministry,
then deposed, and next excommunicated by the
Bishop of Down, and ultimately forced to leave the
country.
It has been formerly said that Lady Culross and
Livingstone maintained an epistolary correspond-
ence. A number of her letters to him have been lately
printed. YVritten in the homely and quaint phrase-
ology peculiar to that age, they yet contain nothing
at variance with genuine good taste or sobriety of
feeling. Characterized throughout by the familiar,
they occasionally indulge in the facetious, and their
prevailing spirit is that of fervent piety, and an ardent
attachment to the public cause, for which Presby-
terians were then contending, combined with a solid
and enlightened judgment. As a specimen of her skill
and ability in encouraging the ministers of the gospel
under their sufferings for the sake of Christ, a part
of her letter to Livingstone on the occasion of his
being suspended from the ministry, dated “ Halhill,
10th December 1631,” may be quoted. It is headed
with the following text of Scripture, “Surely the
rage of man shall turn to thy praise; the remnant of
their rage wilt thou restrain; ” and it begins as fol-
lows: “My very worthy and dear brother, I received
your letter, and have no time to answer you as I
would. I thank the Lord who upholds you in all
your trials and temptations. It is good for you to be
holden in exercise, otherwise I would suspect that
all were not well with you. God is faithful, as you
find by experience, and will not try you above your
strength. Courage, dear brother, all is in love, all
works together for the best. You must be hewn
and hammered down, and dressed and prepared
before you be a living stone fit for his building.
And if he be minded to make you meet to help to
repair the ruins of his house, you must look for
other manner of strokes than you have yet felt.
You must feel your own weakness that you may be
humbled and cast down before him, that so you may
pity poor weak ones that are borne down with
infirmities. And when you are laid low and vile in
your own eyes, then will he raise you up, and refresh

1 Letters from Lady Culross to Mr. John Livingstone, in Select
Biographies, printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p. 358.
2 Records of the Synod of Fife, p. 236.


16
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



you with some blinks of his favourable countenance,
that you may be able to comfort others with those
consolations wherewith you have been comforted by
Him. This you know by some experience, blessed
be God! And as strength and grace increase, look
for stronger trials, fightings without, and fears
within, the devil and his instruments against you,
and your Lord hiding his face. [You are] deeply,
almost overwhelmed with troubles and terrors; and
yet out of all this misery, he is working some gra-
cious work of mercy for the glory of his great name,
the salvation and sanctification of your own soul, and
for the comfort of his distressed children there or
here, or both, as pleases him. Up your heart then,
and prepare for the battle! Put on the whole
armour of God; though you be weak, you have a
strong Captain, whose power is made perfect in
weakness, and whose grace is suificient for you.
What you want in yourself you have in him, who is
given to you of God to be your wisdom, righteous-
ness, sanctification, and redemption, your treasure
and treasurer, who keeps all in store.
Since he has put his work in your weak hands, look
not for long case here; you must feel the weight of
that worthy calling, and be holden under with the
sense of your own weakness, that he may kythe1 his
strength in due time;-—a weak man and a strong
God, who will not fail nor forsake you, but will
furnish strength and gifts, and grace, according to
that employment that he puts in your hands. The
pain is but for a moment, the pleasure everlasting.
The battle is but short, your Captain fights for you,
therefore the victory is certain, and the reward
glorious. A crown and a kingdom are worth the
fighting for. Blessed be his name who fights all
our battles, and works all our works for us! Since
all is in Christ, and he ours, what would we have
more but thankful hearts, and grace to honour him
in life and death, who is our advantage in life and
death, who guides with his counsel, and will bring
us to his glory. To him be all honour, power, and
praise, now and for ever. Amen.” 2
Lady Culross was also the friend and correspon-
dent of Mr. Samuel Rutherford, some of whose
letters to her in 1636 and 1637 are preserved in
the published collection of his letters. She was
then considerably advanced in years, but had seen
no reason for changing the sentiments on ecclesi-
astical questions which she had embraced in early
life; nor had her zeal in adhering to them abated.
When Rutherford was summoned to appear before
the Court of High Commission at Edinburgh in


1636, more than thirty years had passed over her
head since she addressed Mr. John Welsh in the
prison of Blackness; but the sufferings of good men
in the cause of religious freedom still made her
heart swell with emotions of sympathy; and hearing
of the unjust proceedings instituted against the minis-
ter of Anwoth, she addressed to him a letter giving
expression to her sentiments and feelings. Ruther-
ford lost no time in replying, and his answer is writ-
ten with all the confidence of christian friendship.1
The best of God’s people have sometimes been
unequally yoked, and their children, instead of prov-
ing a comfort to them, have been the source of their
most poignant grief. In these respects Lady Culross
was severely tried. Writing to Livingstone from
Halhill, 10th December 1631, she says, “Guiltiness
in me and mine is my greatest cross. My
great temptation now is, that I fear my prayers are
turned into sin.
me and mine, at least some of them.2 Samuel is
going to the college in St. Andrews to a worthy
master there, but I fear him deadly. I depend not 011
creatures. Pray earnestly for a blessing. He whom
you know is like to overturn all, and has broken all
bands. Lord, pity him! There was some beginning
of order, but all is wrong again, for the death of his
brother makes him take liberty, so I have a double
loss.” 3 It has been said that she “ here most pro-
bably refers to her son James, whose conduct often
occasioned great anxiety to his mother. We are
rather inclined to think that the reference is to her
husband.5 Five or six years after this she com-
plains in a letter to Rutherford, of the heavy trial
she met with from the misconduct of one of her
sons, who, so far from proving “ a restorer of her
life and a nourisher of her old age,” was to her a
source of the bitterest sorrow. Rutherford, writing
from Aberdeen 1637, says in reply, “As for your
son who is your grief, your Lord waited on you and
me till we were ripe and brought us in. It is your
part to pray, and wait upon him. When he is ripe,
he will be spoken for. Who can command our
Lord’s wind to blow? I know that it shall be your
good in the latter end. That is one of your waters
to heaven, ye could not go about—there are fewer
behind. I-remember you and him, and yours as I
am able.”6
2,4
1 “ Kythe,” Scot. for “show.”
9- Select Biographies, vol. i. pp. ‘561. 362.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 108, 109.
1 She had a daughter as to whom this complaint did not apply.
In a letter to her from Aberdeen in 1637, Rutherford writes, “ Your
son-in-law, W. G., is now truly honoured for his Lord and Master’s
cause. . . . He is strong in the Lord, as he hath written to me,
and his wife is his encourager, which should make you rejoice.”—
Rutherford’s Letters, p. 437.
3 Select Biographies, vol. i. pp. 362, 363.
4 Ibid. 5 See p. 15. 11 Rutherford’s Letters, 1). 437.


I find and see the clean contrary in,

LADY CULROSS. 17


Whether this letter refers to her third son Samuel,
or to another of her sons, we are unable to determine.
It is however certain that Samuel was far from
embracing the principles or following the example
of his mother. He was the author of the piece of
Scottish Hudibras, entitled, “Mock Poem, or Whigs’
Supplication, in two parts,” printed at London in
1681; a production which could not have been
written by a man of strong sympathies. .ts evident
object is to provoke the mirth of the reader, by
setting forth, in a ludicrous light, the sufferings
endured by the Presbyterians under Charles II. and
their endeavours to obtain the redress of their
grievances. This betrays both bad taste and want
of feeling. If for men to make themselves merry,
in any case, over scenes of oppression and wretched-
ness, is inconsistent with generous and humane
feeling, it is evident, that to make the barbarities
exercised towards our Presbyterian ancestors the
means of ministering to our gaiety, abstracting alto-
gether from the consideration of their principles, can
on no ground he vindicated. It is in fact nothing
better than would be the spectacle of a man, who,
while looking on a fellow-creature under the rack,
amused himself by mimicking or by describing, in
ludicrous phrase, the writhings and convulsions of the
sufferer. Samuel Colvill was also the author of a work
entitled, “ The Grand Impostor discovered: Or, An
HistoricalDispute of thePapacyandPopish Religion;
1. Demonstrating the newness of both; 2. By what
artifices they are maintained; 3. The contradictions
of the Roman Doctors in Defending them.” It was
printed at Edinburgh in 1673, and is dedicated to the
Duke of Lauderdale. In the Dedication the author
states, that he had the honour to be the Duke’s con-
disciple, adding, “ at which time it did not obscurely
appear what your Grace would prove afterwards.
Also having presented several trifles to your Grace, at
your two times being in Scotland, you seemed to
accept of ‘them with a favourable countenance, which '
encouraged me to trouble your Grace afresh.”
As we have already seen, Lady Culross cultivated
a taste for poetry. One of her poetical effusions in
particular, attracted the admiration of her friends,
and was published at their request so early as 1603.
It is a thin quarto, consisting of sixteen pages, and
is printed in black letters, with the following title :
“Ane Godlie Dreame, compylit in Scottish Meter,
be M. M. Gentlewoman in Culros, at the requeist
of her Freindes. Introite per angustam portam,
nam lata est via quze ducit ad interitum.l Edin-

1 i. e. “Enter ye in at the strait gate, for bread is the way that
leadeth to destruction.”

burgh: Printed be Robert Charteris, 1603.” In
this poem, as in Bunyan’s immortal work, “The
Pilgrim’s Progress,” the progress and conclusion of
the Christian’s life is described under the similitude
of a journey. Written with much liveliness of fancy
and description, and with a fluency of versification
superior to most of the poetical compositions of
that age, it gained her at the time considerable
reputation; and in the opinion of competent judges
it establishes her claims to poetical powers of no
mean order. As it is now rarely to be met with,
a brief view of its subject matter may be given, and
a few passages may be quoted as a specimen of the
poetry of that period. It is introduced with a
description of the heaviness of heart which the
writer felt, from her solitary musings on the
depraved state of the world in her day, which she
calls “this false and iron age,” and on the bias of
her own heart to sin. Troubled with a train of
reflections on these and similar topics, she en-
deavoured to pray; but utterance failed her, and
she could only sigh, until relieved by the effusion of
tears when she poured forth her lamentations. Thus
tranquillized she retired to bed, and falling asleep
dreamed that her grief and lamentation were re-
newed, and that with tears she besought God for
succour:—
“ Lord Jesus come (said I) and end my grief,
My sp’rit is vexed, the captive would be free:
All vice abounds, 0 send us some relief!
I loathe to live, I wish dissolved to be.”
IVhile with sighs and sobs she was pouring forth
her complaint, she thought there appeared to her an
angel of a shining countenance and loving looks,
who entreated her to tell him the cause of her grief.
Her reply is couched in these lines:—
“ I sighed again, and said, Alas ! for me,
My grief is great, 1 can it not declare :
Into this earth I wander to and fro,
A pilgrim poor, consumed with sighing sair,
My sin, alas ! increases mair and man,
I loathe my life, 1 1rk to wander here:
I long for heaven, my heritage is there,
I long to live with my Redeemer here.”
The angel, pleased with this account of her grief,
bade her rise up immediately and follow him, pro-
mising to be her guide, and commanding her to
refrain from her tears and to trust in his word and
strength. By his endearing accents, and at the
sight of his fair countenance, her weary spirit
revived, and she humbly desired him to tell her
his name. To which he answered—for he was no
other person than the Angel of the covenant, the
Lord Jesus Christ-that he was her God, adding,





0
18
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




in amplification of the gracious relation in which he
stood to her, that he was “the way, the truth
and life,” her “spouse,” her “joy, rest, and peace;”
and then exhorting her thus :—
“ Rise up anon, and follow after me,
I shall thee lead into thy dwelling place,
The land of rest thou long’st so sore to see;
I am thy Lord that soon shall end thy race.”
Thanking him for his encouraging words, she
declared her readiness to follow him, and expressed
an earnest desire speedily to see “the land of rest,”
which he promised her. He answered that the way
to it was strait, that she had yet far to go, and
that before reaching it she behoved to pass through
great and numerous dangers, which would try her
“feeble flesh.” She admitted that. her flesh was
weak, but hoped that her spirit was willing, and
besought him to be her guide; in which case she
would not be discouraged. She next gives the his-
tory of her journey under his conduct :—-
“ Then up I rose and made no more delay,
My feeble arm about his arm I cast:
He went before and still did guide the way,
Though I was weak my sp’rit did follow fast,
Through moss and mires, through ditches deep we passed,
Through pricking thorns, through Water and through fire:
Through dreadful dens, which made my heart aghast,
He bore me up when I began to tire.”
After farther describing herself and her guide
as climbing high mountains, passing through vast
deserts, wading through great waters, and wending
their way through wild woods, in which, through
the obstruction of briars, it would have been im-
possible for her, without his assistance, to have
proceeded, she says,
“ Forward we passed on narrow brigs of tree,
O’er waters great that hideously did roar ;
There lay below that fearful was to see,
Most ugly beasts that gaped to devour.
My head grew light and troubled wondrous sore,
My heart did fear, my feet began to slide;
But when I cried, he heard me ever more,
And held me up, 0 blessed be my guide!”
Escaping these dangers, and exhausted through
fatigue, she at length thought of sitting down to
rest; but he told her that she must proceed on her
journey; and accordingly, though weak, she rose up
at his command. For her encouragement, he pointed
to that delightful place after which she aspired,
apparently at hand ; and looking up she beheld the
celestial mansion glistening like burnished gold and

the brightest silver, with its stately towers rising
full in her view. As she gazed, the splendour of
the sight dazzled her eyes; and in an ecstacy of joy
she besought her guide to conduct her thence at
once, and by a direct course. But he told her that
though it was at no great distance, yet the way to
it was extremely difficult, and encouraging her not
to faint, he bade her cleave fast to him. Having
described the difliculties and dangers she subse-
quently met with in the course of her journey, she
concludes the poem with an explanation of the
spiritual meaning of the dream. The following is
one of the concluding stanzas:—
“ Rejoice in God, let not your courage fail,
Ye chosen saints that are afflicted here:
Though Satan rage, he never shall Prevail,
Fight to the end and stoutly persevere.
Your God is true, your blood is to him dear,
Fear not the way since Christ is your convoy:
When clouds are past, the weather will grow clear,
Ye sow in tears, but ye shall reap in joy.”
To the “Godly Dream,” there is added a short
poem entitled, “A Comfortable Song, to the Tune
of ‘ Shall I let her go; ’ ” which we here subjoin :—

“Away! vain world, bewitcher of my heart!
My sorrow shows my sins make me to smart:
Yet will I not despair, but to my God repair,
He has mercy aye, therefore will I pray;
He has mercy aye, and loves me,
Though by his troubling hand he proves me.
“ Away! away! too long thou hast me snared:
I will not ty us more time; I am prepared,
Thy subtle slight to flee ; thou hast deceived me,
Though they sweetly smile, smoothly they beguile,
Though they sweetly smile, suspect them,
The simple sort they syle,1 reject them.
“Once more away ! shows loath the world to leave,
Bids oft away with her that holds me slave :
Loath I am to forego that sweet alluring foe,
Since thy ways are vain, shall I them retain,
Since thy ways are vain, I quit thee,
Thy pleasure shall no more delight me.
“ A thousand times away! ah! stay no more;
Sweet Christ, me save, lest subtle sin devour:
Without thy helping hand, I have no strength to stand.
Lest I turn aside, let thy grace Inc guide :
Lest I turn aside, draw near me:
And when I call for help, Lord! hear me
“What shall I do ? are all my pleasures past?
Shall worldly lusts now take their leave at last?
Yea, Christ these earthly toys shall turn in heavenly joys,
Let the world be gone, I will love Christ alone,
Let the world be gone, I care not:
Christ is my love alone, I fear not.”
1 “ To sile” 0r “ sylc,” Scot. for “to cover” or “ to blindfold.”









LADY JANE CAMPBELL, VISCCUNTESS CF KENMURE.
LADY JANE CAMPBELL, Vrscornv'rnss or Knnnnnn,
was one of the most eminent of the religious ladies
who lived during the seventeenth century, and her
nameis well known to thereligious people of Scotland.
No female name of that period has indeed been
more familiar to them than hers for nearly two cen-
turies. Nor is this owing to her having left behind
her any autobiography or diary containing a record
of the Christian graces which adorned her character,
or of the remarkable events of the times in which
she lived; for nothing of this kind is known to have
ever existed. It is the letters of the celebrated
Mr. Samuel Rutherford—those wonderful effusions
of sanctified genius—which have immortalized her
memory, and made her name familiar to the pious
peasantry of our land. Who is there that has read
the beautiful letters addressed to her by that enri-
nent man, who has not felt the attractions of her
character?’ although it is only indirectly that we
can deduce from them the elements which rendered
it so attractive.1
Lady Jane Campbell was the third daughter of
Archibald, seventh Earl of Argyll, by his first Wife,
Anne, fifth daughter of William, sixth Earl of Mor-
ton, of the house of Lochlevin.2 The precise date
of her birth is uncertain, but her parents were
married before October, 1594.‘. Dcscended both 011
the father’s and the mother’s side from ancient and
noble families of great distinction, she was particu-
larly honoured in her paternal ancestors, who were
renowned for the zeal with which they maintained
the cause of the Reformation. Her great grand-
father, Archibald, fourth Earl of Argyll, who in ex-
treme old age espoused, among the first of his rank,
Protestant principles, was one of the Lords of the
Congregation who subscribed the “ Band” dated
Edinburgh, 3d December, 1557, the first covenant
or engagement of the Scottish Refonners for their
mutual defence ,3 and on his death bed,“ he left it
as his dying charge to his son Archibald Lord Lorn,
afterwards fifth Earl of Argyll, “ that he should
study to set forward the public and true preaching


of the Evangell of Jesus Christ, and to suppress all
superstition and idolatry to the uttermost of his
power.”1 This son, who was the granduncle of
the subject of this notice, had previously embraced
the Reformation cause, which be promoted with all
the ardour of youthful zeal, and he too was one of
the Lords of the Congregation who subscribed the
famous “Band” to which allusion has just now
been made. Of her mother little is known. To
her Sir WVilliam Alexander, afterwards Earl of Stir-
ling, inscribed his Aurora in 1604, and he gallantly
says of his amatory fancies, that “ as they were the
fruit of beauty, so shall they be sacrificed as obla-
tions to beauty.” It may also be stated that Park,
in his edition of lValpole’s Royal and Noble Authors,
has a portrait of her mother, taken from a painting
in the collection of Lady Mary Coke.2 Of this
parent she had the misfortune to be deprived in her
tender years. Her father married for his second
wife on the 30th of November, 1610, in the parish
church of St. Botolph, Bishopsgat-c, London, Anne,
daughter of Sir William Cornwallis of Brome, an-
cestor of Marquis Cornwallis, by Lucy, daughter of
John (Nevill) Lord Latimer. About eight years
after this marriage, he went to Spain, and having
entered into the service of Philip III. distinguished
himself in the wars of that monarch against the
states of Holland. Through the influence of his
second wife, who was a Papist, he embraced the
Popish religion, although he had, for the best part
of his life, been a warm and zealous Protestant. He
returned to England in 1638, and died at London
the same year, aged about 62.3
In her early years Lady Jane was of a delicate
constitution, and she suffered much from bodily
affliction. It was no doubt hard to human nature
to languish at a period of life when she might
naturally have looked for health and enjoyment; but
as we may gather from Mr. Samuel Rutherford’s, and
Mr. Robert M‘Ward’s letters to her, this became, by
the divine blessing, the means of impressing upon
her youthful mind a deep sense of the importance
of religion, and of bringing her to the saving know-
ledge of Christ. Rutherford writing to her says,
"' I am glad that ye have been acquainted from your
youth with the wrestlings of God.”——“I think it
great mercy that your Lord from your youth hath
been hedging in your outstraying affections, that

1 Rutherford was singularly free from the vice of flattery; and
this greatly enhances the value of the illustrations of character
which may be derived from his Letters. “I had rather commend
grace than gracious persons,” says he, to Lady Kcnmure, in his
Dedication of his “Trial and Triumph of Faith ” to her ; and on this
principle he proceeded in writing his Letters.
2 Douglas’ Peerage, vol. i. p. 94. In vol. ii. p. 27}, her mother
ls called Agnes.
3 Knox’s History of the Reformation in Scotland, \Vodrow
Society Edition, v01. i. pp. 273, 274.
4 He died towards the close of the year 1558,
1 Knox’s History, 3m, vol. i. p. 290. 2 Yol. v. p. 64.
3 Douglas’ Peerage, vol. i. p. 94; and v01. p. 274.--Playfairs
British Family Antiquities, vol. pp. 127, 247.





20
THE LADIES Oi" 'l‘l‘lli) COVEN-$.NT.



*—__—~—_ _____-_-'-

they may not go a-whoring from himself.” -— “I
knew and saw him [Christ] with you in the furnace
of affliction; for there he wooed you to himself and
chose you to be his.” 1 And MWVard, ina letter to
her, says, “He made you bear the yoke in your youth,
and was it not in the wilderness that he first allured
you and spoke to your heart? and when come to
greater age ye wanted not your domestic fires and
house furnace.”2 In youth too she imbibed that
strong attachment to Presbyterian principles, which
distinguished her during the whole of her future Life.
This lady was first married to Sir John Gordon
of Lochinvar, afterwards Viscount of Kenmure. The
exact date of this union we have not ascertained;
but we find her mentioned as his wife early in 1626.
Mr. John Livingstone, who had visited Galloway in
the beginning of the summer of that year upon the
invitation of Sir John Gordon, informs us in his life,
that during the short period of his sojourn in that
district, he “ got acquaintance with Lord Kenmure
and his religious lady.” 3 Sir John was a man of
accomplishment and piety, and, like his lady, a warm
friend to the Presbyterian interest. As Rosco, the
place of his residence, was situated in the parish
of Anwoth, he made no small exertions, and ulti-
mately with success, to effect the disjunction of that
parish from two other parishes“ with which it was
united, and to get it erected into a separate parish,
having a minister exclusively to itself. He had first
an eye to Mr. John Livingstone as its minister,
whom with that view, as we have seen, he invited
to Galloway, but who, before the difficulties in the
way of its erection into a separate parish were over-
come, accepted a call from Torphichen. He, how-
ever, succeeded in obtaining for Anwoth Mr. Samuel
Rutherford; nor was his zeal limited to his endea-
vours to obtain an efficient gospel minister to his
own parish, the extension of the same blessing
through the length and breadth of the land being
an object in which he felt the deepest interest.5
Lady Gordon and her husband were thus placed
under the ministry of Mr. Samuel Rutherford. This
they accounted a high privilege, and they were in
no small degree instrumental, both by the example
of a Christian deportment, and by the influence of
a high station, in promoting the interests of true
religion among their fellow-parishioners.

1 Letters of Mr. Samuel Rutherford, Whyte and Kennedy’s Edi-
tion, Edinburgh, 1848, pp. 8, 45, 58.
2 Wodrow MSS. vol. lviii. folio, no. 53.
3 Select Biographies printed for the Wodrow Society, vol. i. p.
135. Douglas is therefore mistaken in saying inhis Peerage, (vol.
p. 27,) that their marriage took place in 1628.

l
From the beginning, Lady Gordonformed avery high
opinion of Rutherford’s talents and piety; and, as the
course of his ministry advanced, she appreciated in an
increasing degree his pastoral diligence and faithful-
ness. Rutherford, on the other hand, highly esteemed
her for the amiablcness of her disposition, the humi-
lity of her demeanour, and the sanctity of her de-
portment, as well as for her enlightened and warm
attachment to the Presbyterian cause. An intimate
Christian friendship was thus soon formed between
them; and they maintained frequent epistolary in-
tercourse on religious subjects till the death of
Rutherford, the last of whose letters to her, dated
July 24, 1660, scarcely eight months before his own
death, was written on his hearing that her brother,
the Marquis of Argyll, was imprisoned by Charles 1]..
in the Tower of London. Many of his letters to
her have been printed, and are well known. All of
them evidently indicate his conviction that he was
writing to one whose attainments in religion were
of no ordinary kind, as well as the deep interest
which he took in her spiritual welfare and comfort ;
and they abound in grateful acknowledgments of the
numerous tokens of kindness and generosity which
he had received at her hands. None of her letters to
him have been preserved; but, from the allusions to
them in his letters, we gather that they were charac-
terized by a strain of sincere and humble piety, by the
confidence of genuine friendship, the warmth of
Christian sympathy, and a spirit of active benevo-
lence. She complained that, notwithstanding all
the methods adopted by her Saviour to teach her,
she was yet an ill scholar, lamented her deficiencies
in the practice of holiness, and expressed her fears
that she had little grace, but encouraged herself
from the consideration that God’s eompassions
failed not, although her service to him miscar-
ried.I In all her difiiculties, doubts, and trials,
she applied to him for advice and comfort, in the
happy art of communicating which he was equalled
by few. And such was the confidence she reposed
in his piety, wisdom, and prudence, that she could
communicate the state of her mind to him with
more freedom than to almost any other individual
with whom she was acquainted. Of all his friends,
none took a deeper interest in his welfare than
she took. Tender in her feelings, she warmly sym-
pathized with him under his domestic affiictions,
under the loss of his children and his wife.2 Her
influence she was ever ready to exert in his behalf
when he was subjected to public suffering in the
cause of truth; and instances are not wanting of

‘ These were Kirkdale and Kirkmabreck.
5 Rutherford's Letters, p. 7.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 123, 183, 200, 203-205.
9 Ibid. 57, 65, 67.



LADY KENMURE. 21





persons in high places befriending him from a know-
ledge of the Christian intimacy which subsisted be-
tween him and this excellent Lady. When he was
summoned to appear before the court of high com-
mission in 1630, Mr. Alexander Colville, one of
the judges, “for respect to your Ladyship,” says
Rutherford to her, “ was my great friend, and
wrote a most kind letter to me. I entreat your
Ladyship to thank Mr. Alexander Colville with two
lines of a letter.” 1 IVhen he was before the same
court in 1636, “the Lord,” says be, writing to
Marion M‘Naught, “has brought me a friend from
the Highlands of Argyll, my Lord of Lorn,2 who
has done as much as was within the compass of his
power;” 3 an act of generosity which he doubtless
owed to his friendship with Lady Gordon; for he
was “ a poor unknown stranger to his Lordship.”4
And when her influence was insufficient to shield
him from persecution, he could calculate upon being
a sharer in her sympathies and prayers, as his nume-
rous letters to her from Aberdeen, when confined a
prisoner there by the high commission court, fully
testify. WVriting to her from his place of confine-
ment, June 17, 1637, he says, “I am somewhat en-
couraged in that your Ladyship is not dry and cold
to Christ’s prisoner, as some are.” 5 And in aletter
to Lady Culross, from the same place and in the
same year, he thus writes I——-“ I know also that ye
are kind to my worthy Lady Kenmure, a woman
beloved of the Lord, who hath been very mindful of
my bonds. The Lord give her and her child to find
mercy in the day of Christ!” 6
Lady Gordon, who had suffered much from ill health
in the previous part of her life, was, in July, 1628,
visited with sickness. Under this affliction Ruther-
ford reminded her, that He who “ knew the frame
and constitution of her nature, and what was most
healthful for her soul, held every cup of affliction to
her head with his own gracious hand;” and that her
“tender hearted Saviour, who knew the strength of
her stomach, would not mix that cup with one
drachm weight of poison.” 7 About the close of the
same year, or the beginning of the year 1629, she
was bereaved of an infant daughter. On this occa-
sion Rutherford visited her, to administer Christian
comfort, and afterwards kindly addressed to her a con-
solatory letter. Among other things, he suggested
to her these considerations, so finely expressed,
and so well fitted to sustain the afflicted spirit


of a mother under such a trialz—“Ye have lost
a child; nay, she is not lost to you who is found to
Christ; she is not sent away, but only sent before,
like unto a star, which going out of our sight doth not
die and evanish, but shineth in another hemisphere
Ye see her not, yet she doth shine in another coun-
try. If her glass was but a short hour, what she
wanteth of time, that she hath gotten of eternity;
and ye have to rejoice that ye have now some
plenishing up in heaven. Show yourself a Christian
by suffering without murmuring. In patience pos-
sess your soul.” 1
1n the autumn of the year 1629, she and her hus-
band removed from Rosco to London, where they in-
tended to reside for some time.2 The design of Sir
John in going to London probably was to prosecute
his views of worldly honour and ambition. By right
of his mother, who was Lady Isabel Ruthven,
daughter of William, first Earl of Gowrie, he ex-
pected that the honours of the house of Gowrie,
attainted for high treason in 1600, would be revived
in his person. With the view of making this ac-
quisition, he is said to have sold the lands of Stitehill,3
the ancient inheritance of the family, and to have
given to the Duke of Buckingham, the evening be-
fore his assassination by Felton, the purchase price,
in a purse of gold, as a bribe to him to support his
claims.‘1
Lady Gordon’s change of residence brought about
by these circumstances, in less than two years after
Rutherford’s induction, was no small less both to him
and to his people; and he lamented her departure as
one of the heaviest trials he had met with since the
Lord had called him to the ministry; “ but,” says he,
“I perceive God will have us to be deprived of what-
soever we idolize, that he may have his own room.” 5
During her absence, she and Rutherford main-
tained a regular epistolary correspondence. He
assured her how exceedingly he longed to hear of
her spiritual welfare, and that it was his constant
prayer at the throne of grace, that while “deprived,”
as she then was, “of the comfort of a lively ministry,”

1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 21.
2 Brother to Lady Kenmure, and afterwards the Marquis of
Argyll, who suffered in 1661.
3 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 105.
5 Ibid. p. 409. '1 Ibid. p. 438.
4 Ibid. p. 107.
7Ibid. p. 5.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 8, 9, 10.
2 Murray, in his Memoirs of Lord Kenmure prefixed to an edition
of his Last and Heavenly Speeches, says, that they removed to Edin~
burgh, but this must be a mistake; for Rutherford bidding Lady
Gordon farewell on that occasion, says that he “had small assurance
ever to see her face again till the last general assembly, where the
whole church-universal shall meet ;” language which he would not
probably have used had she only removed to Edinburgh; and he
farther says, “ Ye are going to a country where the Sun of Righteous-
ness in the gospel shineth not so clearly as in this kingdom.”—
Rutherford’s Letters, p. 10.
3 He was served heir to his father 20th of March, 1628, his father
having died in November, 1628.-Douglas’ Peerage, vol. ii. p. 27.
4 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 27. 1‘ Rutherford’s Letters, p. 11.


TlIE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.






God might be to her as a little sanctuary; and
that as she “ advanced in years and stealed forward
insensibly towards eternity, her faith might grow and
ripenfor the Lord’sharvest.” 1 Inher communications
to him, she complained of bodily infirmity and weak-
ness; but Rutherford reminds her that “it is better
to be sick, providing Christ come to the bedside and
draw by (aside) the curtains, and say, ‘Courage, I am
thy salvation,’ than to enjoy health, being lusty and
strong, and never to be visited of God.” 2 He also
regrets her absence for the sake of the interests of
religion in her native country. “ IVe would think
it a blessing,” says he, “ to our kirk to see you
here.” 3 She and her husband appear to have re--
mained in England till about the close of the year
1631, when they returned to Scotland, and settled
at Kenmure Castle, a place about twenty miles dis-
tant from Anwoth, and which has ever since been
the residence of the family.4 During her stay in
England, notwithstanding reports to the contrary,
she “ had not changed upon nor wearied of her sweet
master Christ and his service;” and Rutherford still
“expected that whatever she could do by word or deed
for the Lord’s friendless Zion, she would do it.” 5
Early in the year 1633, she was bereaved of
another daughter, who died in infancy, as we learn
from a letter written to her by Rutherford on the
1st of April that year. “ I have heard also, madam,
that your child is removed ; but to have or want is
best as He pleaseth. Whether she be with you or
in God’s keeping, think it all one ; nay, think it the
better of the two by far that she is with him.” 6
By letters patent, dated 8th May, 1633, her hus-
band was created Viscount of Kenmure and Lord
of Lochinvar, the title descending to his heirs male
whatever bearing the name and arms of Gordon;
and she was with him in Edinburgh when he at-
tended King Charles I. at the parliament in June
that year; but after staying only a few days they
returned home to their country seat, the Castle of
Kenmure. The reason of their early departure was
this: In that parliament Charles intended to pass two
acts, the one, ratifying the acts of Perth assembly
and other acts made for settling and advancing the
estate of Bishops ; and the other, asserting the
King’s prerogative to impose the surplice and other
Popish apparel upon ministers.7 For neither of
these acts could Lord Kenmure, according to his
convictions of duty, give his vote; but instead of


attending the parliament, and honestly opposing the
passing of these acts, as others nobly did, at a junc-
ture when the safety of the Presbyterian cause de-
manded the most decided and energetic measures on
the part- of its friends, he pusillanimously deserted
the parliament, under pretence of indisposition, for
fear of incurring the displeasure of his prince, who
had already elevated him to the peerage, and from
whom he expected additional honours,—a dereliction
of duty for which at the time, as he afterwards de_
clared, he felt “fearful wrestlings of conscience,”
and which caused him the most bitter remorse in
his dying moments. When in Edinburgh, Lady
Kenmure had an opportunity of witnessing the im-
posing splendour and gaiety of a court; but scenes
which have so often dazzled and intoxicated others,
only served the more deeply to impress upon her
mind, what she had long before learned by the teach-
ing of the Spirit of God, the empty and evanescent
nature of all the glitter and pageantry of the world.
“I bless the Lord Jesus Christ,” says Rutherford
to her on her return, “ who hath brought you home
again to your country from that place where ye have
seen with your eyes, that which our Lord’s truth
taught you before, to wit, that worldly glory is
nothing but a vapour, a shadow, the foam of the
water, or something less and lighter, even nothing;
and that our Lord hath not without cause said in
his word, ‘ The countenance or fashion of this world
passeth away.’ ” ‘
Worldly honour and splendour had however more
attractions for her husband. So great an influence
had they of late acquired over his mind, that though
there is every reason to believe he was a converted
man, yet he had fallen into a state of comparative
indifference both as to personal religion and the
public interests of the church, Rutherford, it would
seem, perceived this, and with his characteristic
fidelity urges it upon Lady Kenmure as “ a part of
the truth of her profession, to drop words in the
ears of her noble husband continually, of eternity,
judgment, death, hell, heaven, the honourable pro-
fession, the sins of his father’s house.” “ I know,”
says he, “he looketh homeward and loveth the
truth, but I pity him with my soul, because of his
many temptations.” 2 With this counsel, from her
eminently religious character, we need not doubt
that she would comply.
In the spring of 1634 she lost another daughter,
who had become dangerously ill towards the close
of the preceding year, and who was only about a
year old. a Writing to Marion M‘Naught, April

1 Rutherford’s Letters, pp. 17, 20, 37.
3 Ibid. p. 17. 4 Ibid. pp. 39, 40.
5 Ibid. p. 44. 6 Ibid. p. 56.
7 Scot’s Apologetical Narration, p. 340.—-Rutherford’s Letters,
p. 490.
2 Ibid. pp. 19, 20.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 76. 2 Ibid. p. 59. 2 Ibid.. pp. 59, 63.



LADY KENMU RE.
23


25, 1634:, Rutherford says, “ know that I have been
visiting Lady Kenmure. Her child is with the
Lord; I entreat you visit her, and desire the good
wife of Barcapple to visit her, and Knockbreck,l if
you see him in the town. My lord her husband is
absent, and I think she will be heavy.” And in a con-
solatory letter addressed to herself 011 that occasion
he thus writes: “I believe faith will teach you to kiss
a striking Lord, and so acknowledge the sovereignty
of God in the death of a child, to be above the power
of us mortal men, who may pluck up a flower in the
bud, and not be blamed for it. If our dear Lord pluck
up one of his roses and pull down sour and green
fruit before harvest, who can challenge him 3”’ 2
In the autumn of 1634:, she met with a still more
severe trial in the death of Lord Kenmure. His
lordship left Kenmure Castle for Edinburgh in the
month of August that year, probably on business
connected with the earldom of Gowrie, to which he
was so desirous of being elevated. But it was the
ordination of Providence that his hopes of this pre-
ferment should never be realized. After staying
some days in Edinburgh, he came home towards the
end of August under much indisposition. It turned
out to be a fever, of which, after enduring much
suffering, he died on the 12th of September, at the
early age of thirty-five. Having, as we have just
now said, been for some time past less careful in
cultivating personal piety, and less zealous in pro-
moting the public interests of the church than in
former days, he was painfully conscious of his want
of preparation for death ; and at first the most
poignant remorse took possession of his conscience,
causing many a pang of anguish and many a bitter
tear to flow. Among the sins which at that solemn
period came crowding into his memory, that which
occasioned him the greatest agony was his desert-
ing the parliament the preceding year. “ Since I
did lie down on this bed,” said he to Mr Andrew
Lamb, the bishop of Galloway, who visited him,
“the sin that lay heaviest on my soul and hath
burdened my conscience most, was my withdrawing
of myself from the parliament, and not giving my
voice for the truth against those things which they
call indifferent; for in so doing I have denied the
Lord my God.” But by the judicious counsels of
Rutherford, who continued with him at the Castle,
almost from the commencement of his illness to his
death, he was led to improve the peace-speaking
blood of Christ; and thus attaining to the full as-
surance that God in his abounding mercy had par-
doned his sins, he enjoyed much comfort in passing
through the dark valley of the shadow of death. A


few minutes before his departure, Rutherford en-
gaged in prayer, and “in the time of that last
prayer, his lordship was observed joyfully smiling,
and looking up with glorious looks, as was observed
by the beholders, and with a certain beauty his
visage was beautified, as beautiful as ever he was
in his life. And the expiry of his breath, the ceas-
ing of the motion of his pulse (which the physician
was still holding), corresponded exactly with the
Amen of the prayer,—and so he died sweetly and
holily, and his end was peace.” ‘
During the whole of his illness, Lady Kenmure
watched over him with affectionate tenderness and
care. Of her kind and unwearied attentions, as well
as of her high Christian excellence, he was deeply
sensible. “He gave her, diverse times, and that
openly, an honourable and ample testimony of holi-
ness and goodness, and of all respectful kindness to
him, earnestly craved her forgiveness wherein he
had ofiended her, desired her to make the Lord her
comforter, and observed that he was gone before,
and that it was but fifteen or sixteen years up or
down.” She felt, in a special manner, deeply
anxious about the state of his soul. WVhen, on the
first night of Rutherford’s arrival at Kenmure Castle,
his lordship expressed to him his fears of death,
and desired him to stay with him and show him the
marks of a child of God, “for,” said he, “ you must
be my second in this combat ;” she judiciously ob-
served, “You must have Jesus Christ to be your
second 5” an observation in which he cordially con-
curred. At another time, when, from the hopes of
recovery, inspired by the temporary abating of the
fever, he became much less concerned about the
salvation of his soul than before, it is particularly
mentioned in his Last and Heavenly Speeches, that
this was to her a source of no small distress.
Under this painful bereavement, Lady Kenmure
was enabled to exercise a pious resignation to the
will of her heavenly Father, all whose dispensations
towards her she believed to be in wisdom and love,
a consideration which proved her chief support and
surest consolation under all her afflictions. In at-
taining to this desirable state of mind, she was
greatly aided by Rutherford, who, while he remained
at the Castle, allayed her sorrow by his prayers and
counsels, and who, on his return home, still address-
ing himself to the task of soothing her grief, wrote
her a very comforting letter two days after the fatal
event. “And, albeit,” says he, “I must, out of some
experience, say the mourning for the husband of
your youth he by God’s own mouth the heaviest

1 Robert Gordon of Kneckbreck. 2 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 65.
1 The Last and Heavenly Speeches and Glorious Departure of
John Viscount of Kenmure, by Samuel Rutherford.


24:
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




worldly sorrow (Joel i. 8); and though this be the
weightiest burden that ever lay upon your back, yet
ye know, (when the fields are emptied, and your
husband now asleep in the Lord,) if ye shall wait
upon him who hideth his face for a while, that it
lieth upon God’s honour and truth to fill the field,
and to be a husband to the widow.” Speaking of
Lord Kenmure, he says, “ Remember, that star that
shined in Galloway is now shining in another world.”
And, in reference to the past trials of her life, as
well as to the present, he observes :--“ I dare say
that God’s hammering of you from your youth, is
only to make you a fair carved stone in the high
upper temple of the New Jerusalem. Your Lord
never thought this world’s vain painted glory a gift
worthy of you; and therefore would not bestow it
on you, because he is to present you with a better
portion. I am now expecting to see, and that
with joy and comfort, that which I hoped of you
since I knew you fully ; even that ye have laid such
strength upon the Holy One of Israel that ye defy
troubles, and that your soul is a castle that may be
besieged, but cannot be taken. ‘What have ye to
do here P This world never looked like a friend upon
you. Ye owe it little love. It looked ever sour-
like upon you.” 1 In another letter he thus mites,
in reference to the same subject :—“ In this late
visitation that hath befallen your ladyship, ye
have seen God’s love and care in such a measure
that I thought our Lord broke the sharp point
off the cross, and made us and your ladyship see
Christ take possession and infeftment upon earth of
him who is now reigning and triumphing with the
hundred forty and four thousand who stand with the
Lamb on Mount Zion.” 2 Under this bereavement,
she had the kind condolence of “ many honourable
friends and worthy professors.” 3
To this nobleman, besides the three daughters
who, as we have already seen, died in infancy, she
had a son, John, second Viscount of Kenmure, who
was served heir to his father in his large estates in
the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, 17th March, 1635,
and whose testamentary tutors were Archibald, Mar-
quis of Argyll, and William, Earl of Morton. ‘‘ This
son was born after his father’s death, about the close
of the year 1634, or early in the year 1635 ; 5 and
died in infancy in August, 1639, at the . 0‘e of four
years and some months. He had long before been
in so delicate health, as to excite the apprehensions


of his mother, whose maternal solicitudes were all
concentrated in her tender watchfulness over her
infant boy. His death therefore could not be said
to have come unexpected, nor could she be altogether
unprepared for the stroke. But still the removal of
this much loved and caressed child, inflicted a deep
wound on the affectionate mother’s heart. He was
her only son and her only remaining child, the heir
of his father's wealth and honours, and by his death
the honours and estates of the noble house of Ken—
mure would pass into another family. All these
circumstances would naturally intwine her affections
around him, and increase the pangs of maternal
agony when he was taken from her and laid in the
grave. “I confess,” writes Rutherford to her, “it
seemed strange to me that your Lord should have
done that which seemed to ding out the bottom of.
your worldly comforts ; but we see not the ground
of the Almighty’s sovereignty; ‘ he goeth by on our
right hand, and on our left hand, and we see him
not.’ \Ve see but pieces of the broken links of the
chains of his providence; and he coggeth the wheels
of his own providence that we see not. Oh, let the
Former work his own clay into what frame he
pleaseth! ‘ Shall anyteaeh the Almighty knowledge?’
If he pursue the dry stubble, who dare say, ‘What
doest thou?’ Do not wonder to see the Judge of
the world weave into one web your mercies and the
judgments of the house of Kenmure. He can make
one web of contraries.”l God, however, does no-
thing without wise and holy reasons, and the spi-
ritual improvement of his people is an end of which
he never loses sight in all the trials with which he
visits them. “But,” adds Rutherford in the same
letter, “ my weak advice, with reverence and correc-
tion, were for you, dear and worthy lady, to see how
far mortilication gocth 011, and what scum the
Lord’s fire casteth out of you....I do not say, that
heavier afflictions prophesy heavier guiltiness; a cross
is often but a false prophet in this kind ; but I am
sure that our Lord would have the tin and the
bastard metal in you removed; lest the Lord say,
‘The bellows are burnt. the lead is consumed in the
fire, the Founder melteth in vain,’ ” (J er. vi. 29.) '
And in the conclusion, he thus counsels her, “It is
a Christian art to comfort yourself in the Lord; to
say, ‘I was obliged to render back again this child
to the Giver: and if I have had four years’ loan of
him, and Christ eternity’s possession of him, the
Lord hath kept condition with me.’”

1 Ruthcrford’s Letters, pp. 68, 69. 2 Ibid. p. 72. 3 Ibid. p. 73.
‘ Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii. p. 27. Besides these children, it is
not unlikely she had some others who also died in infancy. Ruther-
ford, writing to her in 1634‘, says, that the Lord had taken away
from her many children.-—Rutherf0rd’s Letters, p. 78.
6 In one of Rut-herford’s letters to her, dated Nov. 29, 1634, obvious
allusions are made to her being near the time of her confinement,
and the child born was evidently this son; for Rutherford reminds
her, after his death, that she had got a four years’ loan of him.
He would be some months more than four years of age.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 578.




LADY KEN MURE.
25



Lady Kenmure, on the 21st of September, 1640,
nearly a year after the death of her son, married for
her second husband the Honourable Sir Henry
Montgomery of Gifi'en, second son of Alexander,
sixth Earl of Eglinton. This new relation proved a
source of happiness to both. Sir Henry was an
excellent man. His sentiments on religious and
ecclesiastical questions corresponded with her own;
and he is described as an “ active and faithful friend
of the Lord’s kirk.”l But the union, which was
without issue, did not last long; she was soon
left a widow a second time; in which state she
lived till a very venerable age. The exact time of
Sir Henry’s death we have not discovered. Ruther-
ford addressed a letter to her on that occasion, from
St. Andrews, but it wants the date of the year?
Though by this second marriage she became Lady
Montgomery, we shall take the liberty still to desig-
nate her “ Lady Kenmure,” as this is the name by
which she is most generally known.
Subsequently to this, Rutherford’s letters to her
furnish few additional facts respecting her history.
They contain repeated allusions to her bodily infir-
mities; and from their tone, it is manifest that she
had attained to much maturity in grace, and that
“ all the sad losses, trials, sicknesses, infirmities,
griefs, heaviness, and inconstancy of the creature,”
had been ripening her for heaven. There is also
evidence that she continued steadfast in the princi-
ples of the second reformation, and adhered in her
judgment to the Presbyterian party called the Pro-
testers, regarding the policy of the Resolutioners,
what it really was, as inconsistent with the obliga'
tions of the Solemn League and Covenant, of which,
if she did not enter into it, she cordially approved.
“ 1 am glad,” says Rutherford, writing to her from
Glasgow, Sept. 28, 1651, “that your breath serveth
you to run to the end, in the same condition and
way wherein ye have walked these twenty years past.
The Lord, it is true, hath stained the pride of all
our glory, and now, last of all, the sun hath gone
down upon many of the prophets. . . I hear that
your ladyship bath the same esteem of the despised
cause and covenant of our Lord that ye had before.
Madam, hold you there.”3
Much would it have gratified both these eminent
saints to have lived to see “the despised cause and
covenant of the Lord” honoured and prospering in
the land; but this neither of them was privileged to
witness. Writing to her in the autumn of 1659,
Rutherford tells her of the satisfaction it would afford
him should God be pleased to lengthen out more


time to her, that she might, before her eyes were
shut, “see more of the work of the right hand of the
Lord in reviving a swooning and crushed land and
church.” 1 More time was indeed lengthened out
to her, but it was to see, not the work of God in
reviving the church, but the work of man in laying
it waste, and in persecuting even to the death its
ministers and members. Her highly esteemed cor-
respondent was removed by death on the eve of
these calamities, having died on the 20th of March,
1661, just in time to escape being put to an ignomini-
ous death for the testimony of Jesus. He was taken
away from the evil to come. She survived him
above eleven years, witnessing the desolations of the
church, and though personally preserved from the
fury of persecution, she suffered bitterly in some of
her nearest relations.
After Rutherford was laid in the dust, she che-
rished his memory with affectionate veneration, and
in token of her remembrance, liberally extended her
benelicence and kindness to his widow and only
surviving daughter. This we find adverted to in a
letter addressed to her by Mr. Robert M‘Ward,
from Rotterdam, October 2, but without the date
of the year. “Madam,” says he, “ Mrs. Ruther-
ford gives me often an account of the singular tes-
timonies which she meets with of your ladyship’s
affection to her and her daughter. If I could
(though I had never had these personal obligations
to your ladyship which I have, and under which 1
must die undischarged,) I would look on myself as
obliged upon this account to pray that God may
remember and reward your labour of love shown
to the dead and continued to the living.” The
letters Rutherford had written to her she carefully
preserved; and when, after his death, the publica-
tion of a collection of his letters was resolved upon,
very desirous that those of them in her possession
should be included in the volume, she transmittted
them to Holland, to Mr. M‘Ward, under whose
superintendence the work was published at Rotter-
dam, in 1661. “'hen it was published, M‘Ward
sent to her a copy in common binding, and some
time after a copy bound in morocco, which, how-
ever, never reached her; on learning which, he sent
her another copy in the same binding.3
Soon after the restoration of Charles 11., a deep
wound was inflicted on the heart of Lady Kenmure
by the cruel manner in which the government treated
her brother, the Marquis of Argyll, who, imme
diately on his arrival at Whitehall, whither he had
proceeded from Scotland to offer his respectful con

#—
lRutherford’s Letters, p. 623. 2Ibid. p. 623. 3 Ibid, p. 679.
1 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 695.
2 Wodrow, MSS. v01. lvii., folio, N0. 52. 3[hi(l., folio No. 56.
D


26
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES OF


gratulations to his Majesty, was by his orders thrown
into the Tower of London, and afterwards brought
to trial before the Scottish Parliament, by which he
was condemned to be beheaded.l During the course
of these proceedings, and subsequently to them, she
received kind letters of condolence from several of
her friends. Rutherford, on hearing of the imprison-
ment of her brother in the Tower, wrote to her from
St. Andrews, July 24, 1660, saying, among other
things, “It is not my part to be unmindful of you.
Be not afliicted for your brother, the Marquis of
Argyll. As to the main, in my weak apprehension,
the seed of God being in him, and love to the people
of God and his cause, it shall be well.”2 After the
execution of this nobleman, Mr. Robert M‘Ward,3 on
his arrival in Holland, wrote to her a letter, in which,
besides expressing his cordial sympathy with her
under this trial, he directs and encourages her, in
reference to those dark times which had then come
upon the Church of Scotland, as well as in regard
to those still darker days which seemed to be at
hand. After adverting to the many personal and
domestic afflictions she had suffered, he adds, “And

1 The circumstances connected with the apprehension, trial, and
execution of the Marquis are more fully detailed in the Sketch of
the Marchioness of Argyll’s Life, which follows. In those days it
would appear that, like astrologers, who professed to foretell the
fortunes of men from the aspect of the heavens, and the influence
of the stars, physiognomists, with equal absurdity, pretended to
read mcn’s future destiny in their countenanees. The following
instance of this may be quoted as an illustration of the foolish
superstition which, at that period, existed in the best educated and
most enlightened circles of soeiety:-—-“Alexander Colville, justice
depute, an old servant of the house, told me that my Lady Kenmure,
a gracious lady, my lord’s (Marquis of Argyll’s) sister, from some
little skill of physiognomy, which Mr. Alexander had taught her,
had told him some years ago that her brother would die in blood.”
-—Baillie’s Letters, quoted in Kirkton’s History, 1). 107.
2 Rutherford’s Letters, p. 707.
3 Mr. Robert M‘Ward, whose name has frequently occurred before,
became minister of the Outer High Church, Glasgow, upon the
death of Mr. Andrew Gray, who died in February, 1656. He, and
Mr. John Baird, who became minister of Paisley, when studying at
the college of St. Andrews, were reckoned the two best scholars in
all the college ; and he maintained, through life, his reputation as a
man of talent as well as of piety. Distinguished for the highly
oratorical style of his pulpit compositions, on which he bestowed
much labour, he was very popular. Referring to his ornate style,
a friend observed that he was “ a brave busking preacher ;” and, on
one occasion, Mr. James Rowat, minister of Kilmarnock, said to him,
"' God forgive you, brother, that darkens the gospel of our Lord
J 65118 Christ by your oratory.” M‘Ward was a zealous Presbyterian,
and stron'zly opposed to the public Resolutions. As might have
been expected, he did not long escape persecution after the restora-
tion of Charles II. Incurring the resentment of the government,
for the freedom and fidelity with which he expressed his sentiments,
in a sermon preached at Glasgow, from Amos iii. 2, in February,
1661, he was brought before the Parliament on the 6th of June that
year; and, on the 5th or 6th of July, they passed sentence of banish-
ment upon him, but allowed him to remain six months in the nation.
Removing to Holland, he became minister of the Scottish congrega-
tion in Rotterdam, where, with some temporary interruptions, he
continued to labour with diligence and success until his death,
which took place about the year 1681 or 1682. He was married to
the widow of Mr. John Graham, Provost of Glasgown—Wodrow’s
Analecta, vol. p. 55.
now, madam, it is apparent what the Lord hath
been designing and doing about you in dealing so
with you; for, besides that he hath been thereby
making your ladyship to be a partaker of the in-
heritance of the saints in light ; besides this, I say,
which is common to your ladyship with all saints,
he seems to have had this peculiar aim, to fit you
for a piece of hard service; and so your ladyship,
after these more private and personal conflicts
seemed to be over, or were forgotten, hath had the
honour amongst the first to be brought upon the
Stage, though not in your own person, yet in your
honourable and deservedly dear relations, there to
act a part very unpleasant to flesh and blood, even
to see those who were to your ladyship as yourself
slain (I may say it, and it is known to be true upon
the matter,) for the word of God and their testimony
which they held. Thus he hath not bid sorrow
from your eyes, and yet there is such a sweet mix-
ture in the bitter cup as no doubt gives it so delect-
able and pleasant a relish that it is sweet in the
belly, though not pleasant to the taste. Yea, he
hath left your ladyship still upon the stage (after
that worthy hath been honourably dismissed and
taken off with the approbation of ‘Well done, good
and faithful servant,’ leaving his name for a blessing
to the chosen of the Lord, and having given a noble
example of suffering with joyfulness, and of resisting
unto blood striving against sin ; a mercy which few
are like to find in this generation, wherein there is
so strong a propension amongst all sorts to wrong
the cause and wound their conscience before they
endanger their persons,) I say, your ladyship is left
still upon the stage, not only to act patience, and
let it have its perfect work as to what is past, and
give the world a proof that the grace of God can
make a person endure as one whom affliction cannot
make miserable, whereas one void of such a sup-
porting principle, would in that case carry as if they
thought they lived for no other purpose but to see
themselves miserable; but that you may act the
faith and patience of the saints as to what is present,
and in regard to what is approaching, arming your
self with Christian courage and resolution how to
carry when ye shall see grief added to your sorrow,
while ye behold that beautiful house wherein our
fathers and we worshipped thrown down, and nothing
left of all that goodly fabric but some dark vestiges»
to be wept over by them that take pleasure in the
stones, and favour the dust of Zion. This calls your
ladyship some way to forget the decay and (in the
world’s account, wherein things get not their right
names,) disgrace of your ever honourable family and
father’s house, but now more honourable than ever,



LADY KENMURE.
27




that ye may remember to weep with Zion, and
lament because the glory is departed. O the sad
days that your ladyship is like to see if He do not
shut your eyes in death, and receive you in amongst
the company of them who have come out of great
tribulation, and can weep no more because they see
God! As for your ladyship’s through-bearing in
this backsliding time, trust him with that, who hath
everlasting arms underneath you to hear you up
when ye have no legs to walk. Hitherto hath he
helped, and he will not lose the glory of what he
hath done by leaving you now to faint and fall off.
He will not give over guiding you by his counsel
till he have brought you to glory, and put you be-
yond hazard of misguiding yourself.”l
Another of her relatives who suffered from the
iniquity of the times was Lord Lorn, the eldest son
of her brother, the Marquis of Argyll. Lorn, natu-
rally indignant at the cruel treatment which his
father and family had received at the hands of the
Parliament, gave free expression to his sentiments in
a confidential letter he sent to his friend Lord Duff us.
This letter being intercepted and carried to Middle-
ton, that unprincipled statesman resolved to make it
the foundation of a capital charge against him.
Disappointed in his hope of obtaining the estate of
the Marquis of Argyll, which, through the interces-
sion of Lauderdale, was gifted to Lord Lorn, who
had married Lauderdale’s lady’s niece, Middleton
thought he had now found a favourable opportu-
nity of getting into his rapacious grasp the spoils
of the Argyll family. Accordingly, he laid the let-
ter before the estates of Parliament, which voted it
treasonable, and sent information to his Majesty,
with a desire that Lorn, who was then in London,
should be secured and sent down to Scotland to
stand trial before the Parliament. Lorn was ordered
to return to Scotland, though, at the intercession of
Lauderdale, who personally became bail for his ap-
pearance, he was not sent down as a prisoner; and
arriving in Edinburgh on the 17th of ‘July, 1662,
he was immediately charged to appear at the bar of
the house on the afternoon of that day; which he
did. That same night he was committed prisoner
to the Castle, and on the 26th of August was sen-
tenced to be beheaded, and his lands, goods, and
estate forfeited, for treasonable speeches and writ-
ings against the Parliament; the time of the execu-
tion of the sentence being remitted to the king.
He lay in prison ‘in the Castle till Middleton’s fall,
when he was liberated, in June, 1663, and was soon
after restored to his grandfather’s estate, with the


title of Earl of Argyll.1 During the time of Lorn’s
imprisonment, M‘VVard wrote to Lady Kenmure a
letter, in which, among other things, he particularly
animadverts upon this additional instance of the
injustice and cruelty exercised towards the noble
house of Argyll. The portion of it relating to
Lorn’s imprisonment may be quoted, as, besides
containing a vindication of the prisoner’s father,
the Marquis of Argyll, and describing the true cha—
racter of the proceedings of that unprincipled go-
vernment, it illustrates the pious and patriotic spirit
of this noble lady. “The men,” says he, “who
have sold themselves to work wickedness in the sight
of the Lord, have stretched forth their hand against
your ladyship’s honourable and truly noble family.
They made that worthy whose name is savoury
amongst his people, the butt of their malice, and as
if that had not been enough, they persecute with
deadly malice his honourable and hopeful posterity,
that their name may be no more in remembrance.
But have they slain and also taken possesssion? and
will he not bring evil upon them and their posterity
for this, and for the provocation wherewith they
have provoked him to anger and made Israel to sin?
But what wonder that they have stretched forth
their hand against his worthies, who have been ho~
noured to be singularly useful and instrumental in
his work, when it is come to this, that in a land
solemnly sworn away to God, the Son of Man hath
not so much left him, even by law, as whereupon
to lay his head, except it be upon a cold stone in a
prison‘. We have laws now framed by the throne of
iniquity and in force, and by these laws he must
die or be driven away. The men who have taken
first the life and then the lands of him whom God
hath taken off the stage with so much true honour;
they have spoiled Christ also of his prerogative, and
say, by what they do, ‘ This man shall not reign over
us, we have no king but Caesar ;’ and his people of
their privilege, saying to them, ‘ Bow down that we
may go over you.’ I believe, while your ladyship
remembers these last, ye forget the first: however,
your ladyship, and all the rest of his honourable
relations, may be confident and comforted in the
hope of it, when he comes to count with these men
and cause them answer for that lease-majesty
whereof they are guilty against God, he will make
inquisition for blood, yea, that blood, and make
them sensible how sadly he resents the injuries
done to that house, and will, if ever he build up
Zion and appear in his glory in the land, ( as I desire
to believe he will), restore the honour of that family

l Wodrow 3153., vol. lviii. folio, No.
1 Wodrow’s History, vol. i. pp. 297, 388 ; Aikman’s History, vol.
iv. p. 500 ; Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 469.




:28 THE names or
THE CUVEN ANT.




with such a considerable overplus of splendour, as
shall make them who see it say, ‘Verily, there is a
reward for the righteous; verily, he is a God that
judgeth in the earth.’ But, madam, I know, since
God hath learned you to prefer Jerusalem to your
chief joy, (a rare mercy amidst a generation who are
crying, ‘Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation,’)
that ye forget to sorrow for your father’s house, and
weep when ye remember Zion; it no doubt makes
your sighing come before ye eat to see the ruins of
that so lately beautiful fabric wherein ye, with the
rest of his people, worshipped. Who can be but sad
that hath the heart of a child, to consider how the
songs of the sanctuary are turned into howling ‘2”’ 1
From the allusion in the last sentence quoted,
the reader will perceive that, at the time when this
letter was written, the Presbyterian Chm‘ch of
Scotland had been overthrown. Charles II. had
got it into his head that Presbytery was not a reli-
gion for a gentleman,-——an opinion of which the
foundation no doubt was, what a young monarch of
licentious morals could not easily brook, the strict
surveillance which the Presbyterian Church exer-
cised over the manners of all her members without
respect of persons ;--and no sooner was he restored
to his throne than he and the base men selected by
him for his counsellors, were determined not to
suffer the offence and reproach of such an ill bred
religion to remain in the land, no, not even in the
form of a dissenting body. Nor was it by gradual
encroachments that they resolved to sap the foun-
dations of the Scottish Presbyterian Church. Too
impatient to wait the operation of slow and insidi-
ous measures, they proceeded openly, summarily,
and by violence. Such ministers as did not conform
against a certain day were to be unceremoniously
ejected. No soft words were to be employed, no
gentle arts of persuasion were to be resorted to
with the view of bringing them to submission.
The law, with its severe penalties, which were
deemed a sufficient argument, was promulgated,
and, stern and unbending, it was to take its course
on all the disobedient. The majority of the ministers
conformed, though they had sworn against prelacy ;
but a noble army of nearly four hundred of them re-
fused compliance, preferring to suffer rather than to
part with their integrity. They were in consequence
driven from their people, who were thus deprived of
the ordinances of the gospel, and who mourned the
loss of their faithful pastors as a family bereavement.
To this calamitous state of things M‘Ward, in
the same letter, proceeds to advert more particu-
larly. He dwells upon the sorrow which he knew
Lady Kenmure felt because her car did not hear the
joyful sound, nor her eyes see her teachers, and that
she was not now made glad in the sanctuary, as in
former days, when she had been abundantly satisfied
with the fatness of God’s house, and made to drink
with delight of the rivers of his pleasure, his banner
over her being love. “ You have now known of a
long time,” says he, “ what it is to live and almost
languish in a dry and thirsty land where no water
is, where all the streams of creature contentments
have been dried up, and diverted by the scorching
heat of fiery trials. But this, I know, is the hardest
and heaviest of all, that the streams of the sanctuary
which did refresh the city of God are dried up, and
that these ordinances of life in the use whereof God
doth ordinarily set forth and impart much of his
loving kindness, which is better than life, are taken
away from you.” And he concludes by observing that,
“though he knew it to be grieving to her to see the
faithful feeders put from their work, and God’s house
of prayer turned into a den of thieves, who come not
in by the door, and how the valley of vision was be-
come a dungeon of Egyptian darkness,” yet that it
would comfort her in a great measure, notwithstand-
ing all that had happened, if she saw “the ministers of
the Lord zealous and carryinglike men of understand-
ing who knew the times and what Israel ought to do,
and not as asses crouching between the burdens.”1
In the welfare and happiness of the ministers
ejected from their charges for nonconformity, Lady
Kenmure took a deep interest, being warmly at-
tached to the cause in which they suffered. Their
integrity and conscientiousness in renouncing their
livings rather than do violence to their conscience,
excited both her approval and admiration; and if
she could not restore them to the places from which
they were extruded, she was willing, according to
her ability, to mitigate the privations and hardships
of their lot. After the death of her son, Lord Vis-
count Kenmure, and of her second husband, the
Honourable Sir Henry Montgomery of Giifen, her
pecuniary means were indeed much reduced, but
having devoted herself and her all to the Saviour
who redeemed her, she was liberal in communicating
even beyond her ability to the necessities of the
suffering Presbyterian ministers; and these acts of
benevolence and generosity, which she felt to be
sacred duties, she performed with a readiness and an
alaerity corresponding to the deep sense she had of
a Saviour’s love. Mr. Robert M‘Ward, among
others, was a sharer of her bounty. She frequently
sent remittances to him in his straits when he was
in Holland, of which he makes grateful mention in


1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lviii., folio, No. 59.
1 Wodrow MSS., v01. lviii, folio, No. 59.


LADY KENMURE.
29


most of his letters to her, as well as refers to her
profuse beneficence towards others who suffered for
righteousness’ sake, and who were in needy circum-
stances. In one of his letters to her, without date,
but which, as appears from internal evidence, was
written subsequently to the martyrdom of the Mar-
quis of Argyll, and from Holland, after apologizing
for taking the liberty of writing to her, he says, “It
flows from an affectionate respect which your lady-
ship’s undeserved kindness and bounty towards me
.in my strait (whereof I hope to cease to be sensible
and cease to be together), hath made a debt which
I can never forbear to acknowledge (though I am not
in case to requite it) without the imputation of
baseness and ingratitude.” ‘ In another letter to
her from Rotterdam, in 1668, he writes, “ Your lady-
ship hath put me oft to seek what to say, but never
more than by your last. I am truly at a loss for
words to express myself about it; and I can assure
you, madam, that it was a trouble to me to think how
prodigal ye have been towards me at such a time.
When I know well what the riches of your liberality
are to others, and how much they who should give
you what God hath made your own pinch you in
withholding what they ought to give, what shall I
say? but I see I must be among the rest, and with
the first of them, who hear record of your doing
even beyond power; and to make it appear that ye
have, in the first place, given your ownself unto the
Lord, ye give, in the second place, yourself and
whatever God hath given you, to those whom ye
suppose to have given themselves to God. Madam,
when L can neither requite these high favours nor
deserve them, I desire to have a complacency in the
thoughts of what a rich reward abides you from him
who is faithful and will never forget your work and
labour of love showed towards his name. If he
will not forget a cup of cold water, which is
given by the hand of him who boiled it before he
gave it, in the fire of love to God which burns in
his bosom, how much more must these great givings
be an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable,
well pleasing unto God!”2 Mr. John Carstairs,
minister of the High Church of Glasgow at the
restoration, had also received substantial tokens of
her good will. In a letter to his wife, May 27,
16641, from Ireland, whither he had fled to escape
persecution, he says, “Present my humble service
and tenderest respects to my noble Lady Kenmure.
The Lord remember and graciously reward all her
labour of love!”8


Mr. M‘VVard having come to London about the
year 1669, resolved to visit some of his friends in
Scotland, and among others Lady Kenmure. In a
letter to her, without date,1 but which was proba-
bly written from Edinburgh about the close of the
year 1669, or the beginning of the year 1670, after
informing her that in the beginning of winter he
was advised by friends to withdraw from London,
which he did after he had kept himself almost a
prisoner for some time, and that thereafter he had
staid in another place in England longer than he
intended, he says, “ The condition, the sad condition
of this poor remnant, together with the desire I had
once more to see some few friends, amongst whom
I particularly intended to wait upon your ladyship
at conveniency, made me adventure to come to this
place. I have desired the bearer2 (who is the
only minister, save one other, residing in this city
to whom I have yet made myself known) to inquire
at your ladyship when, without being a trouble or
disturbance to you, I may wait upon you.” He
adds, “Madam, I have had some account from him
of your condition, and though I know that the
things which ye see and hear and daily find are
enough to make your ladyship long for a pass, that
after all your inward trouble and outward tossings,
your tried and weary soul may rest in his everlasting
embraces, after whom ye have been made to pant,
and for whose coming you are now looking; yet I
cannot deny but that I am so cruel as to be content
that your ladyship is yet with us to weep and sigh
over the dust of Zion; yea, I am confident you will
be content to suspend your everlasting satisfaction
which is made sure to you, for some years or days,
if you may be but helped, now when the strength of
the bearers of burdens is gone, to lift up a prayer for
a fallen church, and to grieve over our departed
glory.” 3
On receiving this communication, Lady Kenmure
lost no time in intimating to her old friend and
valued correspondent when he might wait upon

1 WodrowMSS.,vol.lviii., folio,no. 53. 2 Ibid.,vol.1viii.,folio, no. 54.
3 Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, Etc, edited by the Rev. William
Ferrie, Anstruther Easter, p. 120.
1 The following extract from a letter of M‘Ward’s to Mr. John
Carstairs, but without date, may assist us in determining the time
when this letter was written to Lady Kenmure. Speaking of Mr.
John Dickson, M‘Ward says, “I have neither seen nor written to
him since the time I went first down with you to Scotland (if 1
be not mistaken), when that wretched indulgence had its birth
(when will we see its burial l) ”—-(Wodrow MSS., vol. lvii. folio, No.
15.) The only difficulty here is whether M‘Ward refers to the first
indulgence, granted in July, 1669, or to the second, granted in
September, 1673. But from an allusion to his visiting Lady Ken.
mure, apparently when he visited Scotland, contained in a letter to
her, dated March 5, 1672, more than six months before the second
indulgence had an existence, (see p, 30,) it is highly probable that
he refers to the first. 2 Probably Mr. John Carstairs.
3 Wodrow MSS., vol. lviii., folio, N0. 57.


30
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





her, and in giving him to understand how welcome
would be the sight and converse of one who had
suffered for his Master, and by whose letters she
had been instructed and comforted. Their meeting
was agreeable and refreshing to them both. In
M‘Ward she found one who had the tongue of the
learned, and who could speak a word in season to
them that were weary. In her he found a Chris-
tian, who, trained in the school of affliction, had
attained to no ordinary degree of eminence in the
christian graces, and who seemed to feel more
deeply the distressed state of the church than the
bodily infirmities which were pressing her down to
the dust. To this visit he seems to refer in a letter
which he addressed to her, from Rotterdam, March
5, 1672, in which he mentions it as one thing
“which did often refresh and comfort him concerning
the reality and greenness of the grace of God in her,
when he had occasion to see her upon her bed of lan-
guishing, namely, his finding that notwithstanding of
all these weights and pressures of bodily infirmities
under which her outward man was wasting, yet Zion
and the concerns of our Lord Jesus Christ had a
chief place in her thoughts, she resolving to prefer
his interests to her chief joy and greatest sorrows.” ‘
Lady Kenmure was now far advanced in years,
and during her lengthened life she had seen many
changes in the beloved church of her native land.
She had beheld the triumph of its liberties, after a
protracted struggle of many years, over the arbitrary
power of princes, and had seen the banner of the
covenant unfurled and floating throughout the
length and breadth of Scotland. She had again
witnessed these liberties prostrated and trampled
in the dust by a monarch who was sworn to main-
tain them, and a grinding persecution carried on
against such as, faithful to their covenant engce‘e-
ments, scorned to surrender them. But time with
its many changes, so far from altering had only
served to confirm her original sentiments on eccle-
siastical questions. The good old cause was still
the good old cause for her. “Madam,” says
M‘Ward, in the letter last quoted, “as it hath
been observed by many of your intimate Christian
acquaintance that this hath been a piece of his
gracious kindness to you to keep you still upon his
side in an evil time, and to warm your soul into a
good degree of holy heat and jealousy for God, his
concerns, crown, and kingdom; so he continues to
be gracious to you in this matter still, and to make
you a comfort to such who take pleasure in the
dust of Zion. How great a mercy is this when the
breath of most men, the breath of most professors,
nay, alas, the breath of most ministers, who by
their fervour should warm the souls of others, is so
cold that it doth plainly discover a falling from first
love, and a want of divine zeal for him, and fervent
desire for the coming of his kingdom in the World!
This which he hath given you is a pearl of great
price, a jewel of more value than the whole universe,
nay, this is something above the reality of grace,
and beyond every exercise of real grace. This is to
carry like your father’s child, when the coming of
his kingdom is the inward echo of your soul.” 1
The precise date of Lady Kenmure’s death we
have not been able to ascertain. She was alive in
August, 1672; for when Mr. John Livingstone,
who died on the 19th of August that year, was giving
some of his friends an account of God’s goodness to
him during the course of his earthly pilgrimage the
day before his death, and recounting it as one of
the divine mercies conferred upon him that he had
been acquainted with many eminent Christians in
his youth, he named two, the tutor of Bonnington,
and Lady Kenmure, “ who is,” said he, “the oldest
Christian acquaintance I have now alive.” But she
was at that time in so very weak and infirm a state of
health that M ‘Ward, in a letter to her, dated August
30, 16.72, expresses his fears that it might possibly
be his last letter to her, and whether it might come
to her or find her in the land of the living. 2
It would no doubt be interesting to know the
circumstances connected with the last sickness and
death of a lady so eminent for piety; but these
have not been transmitted to posterity. We have,
however, traced her from early life to advanced age,
and we have seen throughout that whatsoever things
are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good
report, 011 these things she thought, and these
things she practised. Although, then, we lose sight
of her at the closing scene, we may be sure that
the light of heaven rested upon it, dispelling the
darkness of death and the grave 5 and whether she
gave utterance to the triumphant exclamation of
the Apostle Paul, in the prospect of his departure,
or no, that exclamation from her dying lips would
have been an appropriate close to a life which so
eminently exemplified the Christian graces,—faith.
purity, humility, charity,--“I have fought a good
fight, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is
laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the
Lord the righteous judge, shall give me at that day;
and not to me only, but unto all them also that love
his appearing.”


1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lviii.. folio, No. 62.
1Wodrow MSS., folio, N0. 62. 1 Ibid., v01 lviii., folio, N0. 63.





LADY MARGARET DOUGLAS,
MARCHIONESS OF ARGYLL.

LADY MARGARET DOUGLAS was descended from a
noble family, of no inconsiderable antiquity and
renown. Her great-grandfather, William Douglas,
sixth Earl of Morton, was “a nobleman who inhe-
rited the magnanimity of the Douglasses, tempered
by the milder virtues of his illustrious relative, the
Regent Murray. His public conduct was marked by
independence. While he maintained all the hospi-
tality and even magnificence of the ancient barons,
his domestic arrangements were conducted, and his
fine family reared up, in accordance with the purity of
his morals, and the strict regard which he uniformly
showed to the duties of religion. He was a warm
and steady friend to the Presbyterian church ..... ..
The sickness, which soon put an end to his days,
prevented him from attending in his place at Perth; 1
but he expressed his strong disapprobation of the
act restoring episcopacy, and with his dying breath
predicted the evils which it would entail on the
country. Her father, William, seventh Earl of
Morton, who was born in 1582, and served heir to
his father, on the 3d of July, 1605, was a noble-
man of good natural talents, which were highly
improved by a liberal education, and travels in
foreign parts. Previous to the breaking out of the
civil wars, occasioned by the disputes between
Charles I. and his Parliament, the Earl of Morton
was one of the richest and greatest subjects in the
kingdom; and such was the zeal with which he
espoused the royal cause, that, to enable him to
advance money for its support, he disposed of the
noble property of Dalkeith, and other estates, to the
value of not less than £100,000 Scots of annual
rent. He died at Orkney, 011 the 7th of August,
1648, in the 66th year of his age? By his wife, Lady
Anne Keith, eldest daughter of George, fifth Earl
Marischall, he had a numerous offspring.
Margaret, the subject of this sketch, who was
the second daughter, was born about the year 1610.
Of her youthful years no memorials are known to
2:2

exist; but at an early age she was married to Archi-
bald, Lord Lorn, afterwards eighth Earl and first
Marquis of Argyll, a nobleman of eminent piety,
and a warm friend of the Presbyterian interest,
to which be adhered with unwavering constancy,
and for which he at last was honoured to die a
martyr. She also was distinguished for piety, and
held sentiments on ecclesiastical and religious ques-
tions similar to his. We are not exactly informed
as to the time and circumstances in which either of
them became the subject of serious religious im-
pressions, but, in both cases, it appears to have been
early. True religion shed its hallowed and ennobling
influence over their domestic life, sweetening its
enjoyments as well as lightening its trials, and ren-
dered their whole deportment a living epistle of
Christ, known and read of all men. It was the
custom of the marquis to rise at five o’clock in the
morning, and to continue in private till eight o’clock ;
and, besides family worship and private prayer in
the morning and evening, he usually prayed with his
lady at the same seasons, his valet and her maid
servant being present.1 How beautiful an example
of domestic piety! and how excellent a means of
training that pious pair for acting a christian and a
noble part amidst those tragic scenes through which
they had afterwards to pass, and in which they
acquitted themselves so well! Both of them, too,
highly valued the preaching of the gospel, and the
society of the eminent ministers of their day. As
an instance of this, it maybe mentioned that the
well-known Mr. David Dickson, with his wife and
children, resided two years in their family, at Inve-
rary; during which time Dickson and Mr. Gordon,
the minister of the parish, divided the services of
the Sabbath between them, the former preaching

1 The reference is to the Parliament which met at Perth, in
August, 1606, by which the bishops were restored to all their ancient
dignities and prerogatives.
2 M‘Crie’s Life of Melville, vol. ii , p. 220. James Melville desig-
nates him “the guid auld Earle of HortouneP—Melville’s Diary,
p. 560. See also Calderwood’s History, vol. vi., p. 5263.
3 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii., pp. 193, 274, 27-5. Row’s History,
0. 470.
1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., p. 532. Wodrow received this infor-
mation, May 9, 1702, from Mr. Alexander Gordon, who was minister
of Inrerary many years before the restoration of Charles IL, and
who had, therefore, the best means of lmowing. Mr. Gordon also
informed him that when the marquis went abroad, though but for
one night, it was his practice to take with him his note-book and
inkstand, with the English Notes Bible and Ncwman’s Concord-
ance. In another part of the Analecta, we find the following inte-
resting notice relating to Argyll’s conversion :—“ Mr. James Stirling
tells me that from good hands he had it, that during the Assembly
at Glasgow, Mr. Henderson, and other ministers, spent many nights
in prayer with the Marquis of Argyll, and that he dated either his
conversion, or the knowledge of it, from these times."



32
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





in the forenoon, and the latter in the afternoon,
while Mr. Patrick Simpson preached on the Thurs-
days.1
The first family incident we meet with in the
history of the Marchioness of Argyll is a dangerous
illness with which she was attacked at the time of
her first confinement. The physicians who attended
her, when consulted, gave it as their opinion that
her life could not be preserved without destroying
that of the child. But from this proposal the heart
of the mother recoiled, and 011 no consideration
would she give her consent. In the good provi-
dence of God, however, the life both of the mother
and of the infant was saved. This child was after-
wards the Earl of Argyll, who suffered in 1685.2
During the subsequent part of her life, no im-
portant facts are known, till we come to the severe
domestic trials which she was doomed to suffer.
These we shall now proceed to relate. It has been
said that every pathetic tale, in order to interest,
must have a villain to boast of—a principle well
understood by the masters of tragedy, who, while
they excite our sympathies by the great and varied
distresses of the personages they introduce upon
the stage, almost never fail to bring prominently
forward some character of deep depravity as the
cause of these distresses ; thus enhancing the interest
of the scene, by stirring from their depths other
emotions of our nature, such as horror and indigna-
tion, at hypocrisy, treachery, cruelty, and other
forms of vice, which may be elicited in the drama.
Of this element of interest the life of this lady is
not destitute; and Charles II. was the evil genius
who broke in upon its peace and happiness.
The first of her domestic trials which we shall
mention is the affecting case of her eldest daughter,
Lady Anne. When Charles II. arrived in Scotland
in the year 1650, Argyll, though, during the second
reformation and down to that year, he had acted a
conspicuous part in the defence of the Presbyterian
cause, and had been almost dictator of Scotland, yet
welcomed him with the most devoted loyalty. He,
however, at the same time, told him that he could not
serve him as he desired unless he gave some decided
evidence of his fixed determination to support the
Presbyterian party, and that he thought this would
be best done by marrying into some family of rank
known to be entirely devoted to that interest, hinting
that this would, in a great measure, remove the pre-
judices entertained both by Scotland and England


against him on account of his mother, who was a
papist, and suggesting his own daughter as the most
proper match for him.1 How strangely does the am-
bition of worldly honour and power sometimes gain
the ascendency over the better judgment of even wise
and good men! Argyll must have known enough,
and more than enough, of the profligate character of
Charles, to convince him that in projecting such
a matrimonial alliance, he was exposing to the
highest peril the happiness of his daughter for the
prospect of gaining her the glitter of a few short
years in a corrupt court. But views of ambition,
and not the happiness of his daughter, were the
motives which appear to have guided him in this
matter. Another influence bearing on his mind
was the principle of self-preservation. Perceiving
that should those men, whom he had unavoidably
made his enemies when almost dictator of Scotland,
be raised to places of power upon the accession of
Charles, he would be in great danger of falling a
sacrifice to their malice, he hoped in this way efi’ec-
tually to secure himself from all such peril.
But his hopes of aggrandisement or safety from
this source were castles built in the air, and they
were destined to suffer a severe disappointment.
To the proposal Charles indeed consented, and pro-
mised all fidelity. But he was too much of the cava-
lier; he had too strong a liking for the malignant
party ever to think seriously of wedding with a
Presbyterian’s daughter. His promise he never
fulfilled, and he never intended to fulfil it. The
consequences to the accomplished young lady were
very distressing. With the simple and unsuspect-
ing confidence of inexperienced youth she relied
upon his honour and sincerity. Her parents had
not taught her to doubt or mistrust him; at least
her father had not done so; and, if her mother had
warned her of her danger, she heeded it not; and
when Charles disappointed her, when he appeared
to her in the stern reality of his true character, a
heartless deeeiver, faithless to her as he proved to
the religion he had sworn to maintain, her mental
agitation and distress became great; all her enchant-
ing and fondly cherished prospects of becoming the
wife of Charles and Queen of Britain, which had
been the dream of her young imagination, were
dissipated; her tenderest affections were cruelly
lacerated by the object around which they were
entwined; her earthly hopes and happiness seemed
extinguished for ever; her spirits sunk, and her
health became impaired; yea, under the extreme
mental agitation she daily and hourly experienced,

1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., p. 22. Mr. Gordon, to whom Wodrow
was indebted for this fact, also told him that Argyll always took
notes of the sermon.
9 Ibid. vol. ii., p. 138.
1 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 97.



M ARCl—IIONESS Ol“ ARGYLL.
33

her reason itself began to reel, and she at last
became quite insane, fit only “to point a moral or
adorn a tale.”
In the calamity which befell his daughter, Argyll
had too much reason for self-reproach. His worldly
policy, which true wisdom condemned, while it
accomplished the ruin of his daughter, was defeated
in its every object. Kirkton, after stating that the
marquis was moved to strike up this match from
the hope of securing himself from his enemies, and
that all the “ poor family had by the bargain was a
disappointment so grievous to the poor young lady,




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she formed a very low opinion of his character at an
early period, indeed long before its dark features
were fully developed or discovered, regarding him
as at once unprincipled, hypocritical, and revengeful.
This will appear from the following anecdote, which
rests on good authority. Charles, after he came to
Scotland and was crowned, in 1650, became so
flagrantly lewd in his conduct, spent so large‘ a part
of his time in drinking, and favoured malignants so
much, notwithstanding his having sworn the Solemn
League and Covenant, that the religious people
about the court urgently requested Argyll to take
‘like
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Argyll remonstrating with King Charles 11.
that of a gallant young gentlewoman, she lost her
spirit and turned absolutely distracted,” quaintly,
but justly adds, “so unfortunately do the back
wheels of private designs work in the puppet plays
of the public revolutions in the world.” 1
This was a severe and a continued living trial to
the marchioness. TVhether she was favourablv
disposed towards the match we are not informed,
although there is reason to believe she was not, and
that she entertained fears that it- might be far from
issuing in the happy consequences which the mar-
quis anticipated. We know, at least, that plausible
and insinuating as the manners of Charles were,

1 Kirkton’s History, p. 50.

the liberty of freely remonstrating with him. Argyll,
who had waited long for such an opportunity, did
so one Sabbath night at Stirling. After supper,
he went in with his Majesty to his closet, and there,
with much freedom, but, at the same time, with
much humility, laid before him the sinfulness of his
conduct. Charles, so far from appearing to be
offended, seemed serious, and even shed tears; and
so earnest did the matter to all appearance become,
that they prayed and mourned together till two or
three o’clock in the morning. The marquis, chari-
tably entertaining the most favourable opinion of
the character and professions of Charles, was dis-
posed to congratulate himself upon his success; and
when he came home to his lady, who was surprised
E

as THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.




at his absence, and told him she never knew him
stop from home till so late an hour, he said that he
had never passed so pleasant a night in the world, and
informed her of all that took place. But she put a
very different construction upon the adventure, and
drew very different conclusions from it. She be-
lieved that Charles was both insincere and vindictive;
that it was not safe to remonstrate with him, and
that her husband had committed an offence which the
monarch would never forgive. Such was her belief,
and she freely expressed it. No sooner did she
hear of Charles’s professions of sorrow, and of the
tears he shed, than she said that they were “ croco-
dile tears,” and that what the marquis had done
that night would cost him his head. Nor was she
mistaken. When offended at liberties taken to
reprove him for his conduct, Charles possessed, in
no small degree, the power of suppressing the
manifestation of his feelings, and of seeming even
grateful to his monitor; but freedoms of this sort he
was not accustomed to forgive, and only waited his
opportunity to take revenge. From that moment
he bore an irreconcilable hatred to the marquis,
though the royal hypocrite, in addressing him, still
continued to call him “father; ” and so deeply
did he cherish a vindictive spirit for this honest
admonition that, after his restoration, he expressed
his resentment of it to some, and resolved to
make his reprover the first victim of his mortal
vengeance.1 Upon what grounds the marchioness
came to such a conclusion respecting the character
of Charles, we do not know; but, from the accuracy
of the judgment she pronounced upon it, she must
have discovered facts concerning him, which, painful
as it might be to her to entertain such suspicions
and feelings concerning him, confirmed all that she
had said.
After this she was visited with a severe illness,
which threatened her life, as appears from the
following quotation :—“ When the king resolved to
march into England, in June, 1651, the resolution
was opposed by Argyll, with reasons of no incon-
siderable strength. But, notwithstanding this dis-
approbation of the measure, he would have gone
along with the king, had not his lady been lying at
the point of death. This induced him to ask per-
mission to remain behind, which was graciously
accorded, and he took leave of the king at Stirling.” 2



From this illness, however, the marchioness re-
covered.
No additional particulars of importance occur in
her history till the restoration of Charles II. That
event, which was hailed with unbounded joy by
almost all Scotland, she could hardly contemplate
with any other feelings than those of alarm. While
others were giving way to the most extravagant
rejoicings, she must have felt, from what she knew of
Charles, that s/ze, at least, had rather cause to mourn
than to rejoice. Aware that her husband was the
object of his mortal hatred for the reason stated
before, as well as on other accounts, she appears to
have entertained some degree of anxiety about his
safety; to have felt some forebodings that the restora-
tion might be, what it actually turned out to be, the
cause of the most poignant affliction of her life. When
in any noblemen and gentlemen from Scotland went up
to London, in 1660, to congratulate his Majesty upon
his happy and safe return to his hereditary throne, the
marquis sent up his eldest son, Lord Lorn, but did
not proceed to London himself till he got informa-
tion of the favourable reception of his son, when he
was encouraged to repair to the capital. From this
it is evident that the family had the impression that
the marquis had incurred the displeasure of the
monarch, and entertained some apprehensions that
he was in danger. Nor were these apprehensions
unfounded.l No sooner did Argyll arrive at VVhite-
hall, which was on the 8th of July, than, “with an
angry stamp of the foot,” Charles gave orders for his
imprisonment. He was instantly hurried to the
Tower, where he was kept close prisoner till towards
the close of the year, when he was sent down from
London, by sea, to Edinburgh, to be committed
prisoner to the Castle, and tried before the Scottish
Parliament for high treason. His trial commenced
on the 13th of February, 1661, when his indictment,
consisting of fourteen different articles, was read, in
which he is charged with calling or causing to be called
the convention of estates, in 1643, and entering into
the Solemn League and Covenant with England; with
protesting in Parliament against the engagement
of 164.8, for relieving his Majesty Charles 1.; with
raising an army to oppose the engagers; with cor-
responding with Cromwell, and submitting to the
commonwealth; together with other crimes, which

1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., p. 67. Wodrow introduces this
and another anecdote given (p. 36), thus :—“November 11, 1705.—
My brother tells me that he has thir accounts of the Marquis of
Argyll from Mr. Hastie, who had them from Mr. Neil Gillies, who
was in the family of Argyll, and had them both from the Marchio-
ness.” See also Analecta, vol. ii., p. 145.
2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 98.
1 As a curious instance of the superstitious regard paid to omens
at that time, we may quote the following passage from Baillie’s
Letters. Speaking of Argyll, he says, “ My good-son, Mr. Robert
Watson, was with his lady in Roseneath, the night the king landed
in England. He told me all the dogs that day did take a strange
howling, and staring up to my lady’s chamber windows for some
hours together.”—Quoted in Kirkton’s History, in a Note by the
Editor. p. 107.



MARCHIONESS OF ARGYLL.
35


__-_
were either a perversion or misrepresentation of
facts, or direct calumnies, as, for instance, that he
had been accessory to, or acquainted with, the design
of the murder of Charles I. These were the osten-
sible grounds of the proceedings against him; but
it was private and personal reasons, not avowed,
which impelled the actors in this tragedy. Charles
11., as we have seen, hated him for the freedom of
his admonitions, as well as because he was opposed
to the malignants, and the main support of the
Presbyterian interest, of which he proved himself
the uncompromising champion ; and this hatred was
deepened from the wrong which Charles was con-
scious of having done to him and his family in vio-
lating his promise of marrying Lady Anne, for
unprincipled men uniformly hate those whom they
have injured. This throws a flood of light upon
the conduct of Charles towards him;‘it explains
“ the angry stamp of the foot ;” and warrants the
assertion that he “died a sacrifice to royal jealousy
and revenge.”1 Middleton, too, who was his
Majesty’s Commissioner at the Parliament, being at
once poor and avaricious, expected to obtain a
grant of the estates of the martyr, and hence his
anxiety, in order to get them forfeited, and thus
wrested from the lawful heirs, that the marquis
should suffer as a regicide. It is also to be added,
that Middleton’s associates in the Scottish govern-
ment desired to divide the estates among them-
selves.2 Thus it was determined on all hands to
make this nobleman a sacrifice.
When the marquis was lying a prisoner in the
castle, the marchioness entertained the worst
apprehensions as to the intentions of his enemies.
She was persuaded that they would be satisfied with
nothing less than his life, and she, therefore, with a
number of spirited gentlemen, entered into a plan
for effecting his escape. In the execution of this
plan she herself was to act the principal part. On
visiting him she was to put on his clothes and
remain in prison, while he was to put on her’s, and,
thus disguised, make his escape, which could be
the more easily effected as they were of the same
stature. In order the more effectually to remove
suspicion, he kept bed for some days, as if he had been
unwell, and one day when she came in a chair to
visit him, they resolved to make the attempt. Being
left alone, they proceeded to undress and exchange
each other’s clothes. This done, she was ready to
remain in his place, whatever she might suffer from

the resentment of the government. But her pur-
pose was defeated by the marquis himself, who,
when about to be taken out in the chair, on a sud-
den changing his mind, said he would not flee from
the cause he so publicly owned, and throwing aside
his disguise, put on his own clothes, resolving to
suffer the uttermost. 1 Thus she left the prison
without having effected the object which lay so near
her heart. What she dreaded was soon realized.
On Saturday the 25th of May he was sentenced to
be beheaded at the cross of Edinburgh for high
treason on Monday the 27th, and his head to be fixed
on the west end of the tolbooth, where the head
of the Marquis of Montrose had formerly been
exhibited as a spectacle. He was then sent to the
tolbooth among the ordinary prisoners for the two
short days allowed him to prepare for death.”
The distress of the marchioness on hearing of
this sentence is not to be described. On learning
where he was to be confined during the brief period
he had to live, she hurried to the prison in order to
meet him. She was there before he reached it, and
on his entrance a most affecting interview took place
between them. “ They have given me till Monday,”
said he, on seeing her, “to be with you, my dear,
therefore let us make for it.” The afflicted wife, in
the agony of grief, burst into a flood of tears, and,
embracing him, exclaimed, “The Lord will require it,
the Lord will require it.” On her uttering this appeal
to the justice of heaven, which we conceive was no-
thing but the simple, unpremeditated and instinctive
outburst of nature under a sense of such unmerited
and grievous wrong, and which neither christian
principle nor christian feeling condemned, a minister
present, doubtless with the best intentions, gently
reminded her that we should not be revengeful ; to
whom she replied, “We need not be so,” alluding to
the words of Paul, “Dearly beloved, avenge not your-
selves, but rather give place to wrath ; for it is written,
Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.” 3
Her distress, in these painful circumstances, was so
deeply affecting that even the bailie who accompanied
the marquis to the prison, though no great friend to
him, was softened into tears, and none in the room
could refrain from giving vent in a similar way to
their feelings. Meanwhile the marquis, though at


1 Kirkton’s History, pp. 69, 70.
2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. 1., p. 99.
p. 131.
Wodrow’s History, vol. i.,
1 Kirkton’s History, p. 103. Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 152.
Burnet’s History, vol. i., p. 1524-. Burnet says, that “when the
marquis was going into the chair, he apprehended he should he
discovered, and his execution hastened, and so his heart failed
him.”
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 150.
moirs of the Affairs of Scotland, p. 40.
3 Wodrow’s History, voL i., p. 153. Wodrow MSSQ v01. xxvii,
Sir George M‘Kenzie’s Me-
j folio no. 53.


36
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




first he wept himself, soon became perfectly com-
posed, and endeavoured to comfort his beloved and
sobbing wife. “Forbear, forbear,” said he affection-
ately to her; “truly I pity them; they know not
what they are doing: they may shut me in where
they please, but they cannot shut out God from me:
for my part I am as content to be here as in the
Castle, and as content in the Castle as in the Tower
of London, and as content there as when at liberty;
and I hope to be as content upon the scaffold as any of
them all.” He added, “that he remembered a scripture
cited to him by an honest minister latelyinthe Castle,
- and endeavoured to put it in practice. When Ziklag
was taken and burnt, and the people spake of stoning
David, he encouraged himself in the Lord his God.” 1
After this interview on the same day, the mar-
chioness went down to the Abbey to Middleton, his
Majesty’s Commissioner, to endeavour to obtain a
reprieve. The object in asking this reprieve, no
doubt, was to get time to apply to the king for a par-
don. But when it is considered that the Parliament,
of which Middleton was the moving spring, refused
to accede to the request which the marquis made
when at the bar and about to receive his sentence,
that the sentence should not be executed till ten
days after it was pronounced, there was little ground
to hope that his Lady would succeed in obtaining
for him what she sought. But where his life was
involved she determined to make an appeal to
Middleton’s pity, if not to his sense of justice. She
accordingly went down with a heavy heart to Holy-
roodhouse, and was admitted to see him. He had
been drinking hard, but was in the full possession of
his reason, and received her with extreme courtesy
and kindness, which was far from his usual manner
of receiving supplicants, and it seemed as if there was
no favour which he would be unwilling to grant at
her request. Her courteous and respectful re-
ception might perhaps awaken in her for a moment
hopes that he would commiserate her case; but
she had a man to deal with whose heart was never
softened by compassion and who was not accus-
tomed to show mercy. When she proceeded to
tell him her errand, pathetic as was the appeal
she made in behalf of her condemned husband, he
told her that he could not serve her in that par-
ticular; that to do so would be as much as his
life was worth; and that though he should grant her
what she so earnestly desired it would be fruitless,
for he had received three instructions from the king
which he was imperatively required to carry into
effect: first, to rescind the covenants; secondly, to

behead the Marquis of Argyll; and, thirdly, to sheath
every man’s sword in his brother’s breast. The
proverb is, Post vimmz cerz'ias. Middleton had thus
imprudently betrayed the intentions of his master to
the marchioness; and the following day, remember-
ing, after having slept off his night’s debauch, what
he had said to her, he became so dejected, that for
several days he was not to be spoken with, and told
some of his friends that he had discovered a part of
his secret instructions to the Lady of Argyll which
would ruin him. But she took no advantage of
him, having told this only to Mr. Gillies, who, as
Wodrow thinks, was waiting on her at that time ;
and accordingly it went no farther. 1
From what Middleton said to her all her hopes
of the life of the marquis were lost. She perceived
that his death had been resolved upon, and that
nothing was to be expected either from the justice
or the compassion of the men who were now at the
head of affairs, and who were carrying things with
such a high hand. Hastening to the prison, she
communicated to him the unsuccessful result of her
visit to the palace. But painful as was this death-
blow to her hopes of his life, it was in some degree
consoling to her that he was prepared for the fate
awaiting him. She found him not agitated with
fear, nor sinking beneath the abject influence of
conscious guilt, but, though surroimded by prison
walls, and soon to undergo an ignominous execution,
yet enjoying that serenity and joy of mind which
conscious innocence and the peace of God never fail
to impart; and this was the more remarkable from his
being naturally of a timorous disposition. She con-
tinued with him, it would appear, till Sabbath night,
when, at his own desire, she took a last farewell. 2
In this season of deep distress, the marchioness,
like a genuine child of God, betook herself to the
throne of grace; and it is an interesting trait in her
character to find her there imploring from Him,
who “is a present help in the time of trouble,”
support and comfort, not so much for herself, as
for her beloved husband, who, though guilty of
no crime, was so soon to suffer a traitor’s death.
On the forenoon of the day on which he was to
be executed, she and Mr. John Carstairs were
employed in wrestling with God in his behalf, in a
chamber in the Canongate, earnestly pleading that
the Lord would now seal his charter by saying to
him, “ Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven
thee!” It is a striking circumstance that, at the
very time of their being thus employed, the marquis,

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 152.
1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., pp. 67, 68. See Appendix, No. II
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 153


MA RCHIONESS OF ARGYLL.
37


while engaged in settling some worldly affairs, a
number of persons of quality being present with
him, was visited in his soul with such a sense of
the divine favour, as almost overpowered him ; and,
after in vain attempting to conceal his emotions by
going to the fire and beginning to stir it with the
tongs, he turned about, and melting into tears,
exclaimed, “I see this will not do; I must now
declare what the Lord has done for my soul! He
has just new, at this very instant of time, scaled
lllllltl \\\\\\lllli'“i“""“Y (=5 , m‘
‘N my: um ) l” 1'“
\ um first“: ‘nt‘ql ‘
l
“A

Lady Mary, Countess of Caithness, interccding with
due honour be paid to the dead in the form of a
decent and respectable funeral; and after the
execution of this noble martyr, the marchioness was
anxious that due homage should be paid to his mor-
tal remains. Her wishes in this respect were to a
certain extent gratified. After he was beheaded his
headless corpse was delivered to those friends, noble-
men and others. who, at- his desire, were permitted
to accompany him to the scaffold and be present
with him on it; and they carried it to the Magdalene
Chapel, where it was prepared for interment. From
the chapel it was attended by a numerous company of
friends, in funeral procession, to Kilpatrick, thence
transported by water to Dunoon, and finally depo-
sited in its last resting place, in the family bury-
ing vault at Kilmun.l But it was distressing to
my charter in these words, ‘ Son, be of good cheer,
thy sins are forgiven thee! ’ ” This comfortable state
of mind he retained to the last, and to this scene he
alluded in his dying speech on the scaffold. Can it
be doubted that the bestowment of the very blessing,
prayed for by this devout lady and that godly minister
to the dying martyr, at the very instant in which it
was sought, was a signal answer to their believing
prayers ? 1

Surviving friends have naturally a concern that


Middleton for permission to remove her father’s head.
the marchioness to think, that the head of the mar‘
quis was exposed as a public spectacle; and she was
extremely desirous that it should be removed, and
interred with the rest of the body. With this view
her daughter, Lady Mary, Countess of Caithness,
went to Middleton, to supplicate that this favour
might be granted to her mother and the family.
But he received her in a different manner from that
in which he had received her mother. When she
was on her knees before him, begging, with all the
tenderness of filial piety, her dead father’s head to
be buried, he brutally threatened to kick her with
his foot if she did not rise and depart from his
presence? IVhat a picture of a man, (if we may
call him a man,) who could thus treat with cruel
and wanton insult a lady, in circumstances which,


1 Sir George M‘Kenzie’s Memoirs of the Eli-airs of Scotland, p. 4-7.
Aikman’s History of Scotland, vol. iv., p. 187.
1 Wcdrow’s Analecta, vol. ‘,2 148.
'2 Kirkton’s History, p. 156




38
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



one might think, would have excited compassion
in the breast of a monster ! Argyll’s head con-
tinued fixed on the west end of the tolbooth till
1664, when a letter came from the king to the privy
council, commanding them to take it down, that it
might be buried with his body. It was accordingly
taken down quietly in the night time.‘
Under this heavy trial the marchioness was very
generally and sincerely sympathized with throughout
the country; 2 and her case was well calculated to
excite sympathy. What must she have suffered in
her mind from the time that the marquis was thrown
into the Tower of London, to the time when he was
beheaded as a traitor, at the cross of Edinburgh?
Can it be doubted that she was made to taste, drop
by drop, more than the bitterness of death, in the
protracted agony which these proceedings inflicted
on her soul? The tragic scene of his execution
could not fail often to present itself to her imagina-
tion, piercing the heart with the bitterest anguish;
and when she turned from that scene to reflect on
her own condition, she must have found herself “ a
widow indeed.” But severe though the trial was,
she rebelled not against the Supreme Disposer of
events, but acquiesced in his determinations, from a
persuasion that though these, in some respects, might
be mysterious and incomprehensible to her, they were
yet the determinations of her heavenly Father, who
doeth all things well. The exemplary resignation
she displayed, and which everybody admired, is
fully attested by contemporary writers. Law, for
example, in his Memorials, when recording the death
of the marquis, says, “His lady, Lady Margaret
Douglas, a lady of singular piety and virtue, here
this sad stroke with other both personal and do-
mestic afflictions, with great patience and incredible
fortitude, giving herself always to prayer and fasting,
and ministering to the necessity of the saints.” 3
Various circumstances connected with the death of
the marquis would, no doubt, contribute to produce
this desirable state of mind. It was comforting to
her to reflect that no evil deed of his bad merited such
cruel treatment; that he died, not as a traitor to his
country or his king, but in reality as a martyr in the
cause of Christ. It was comforting to her also to
know that he met death with a heroism which has
never been surpassed in the annals of martyrdom; a
heroism not inspired by a passion for earthly renown,
like that of the patriots of Sparta, Rome and Athens,
but by the peace of God which dwelt in his soul,
and the hope of eternal glory, with which he was


animated.‘ Her pious friends, both ministers and
others, would also contribute much, by presenting
to her mind the various sources of consolation
opened up in the gospel, to allay the bitterness
of her grief, and to produce submission to the
divine will. Among those who were thus useful
to her, we must not omit to mention Mr. John
Carstairs, a man of strong sympathies, to whom
it was always a pleasing duty to condole with,
and comfort the suffering, the sorrowful, and the
bereaved. Writing to her in reference to this dis-
pensation, he says, “ He [God] hath given the
highest security ‘that all things (having a special
look at all their afflictions, as the context, in the
confession of most, if not all, judicious commen-
tators putteth beyond debate) shall work together
for good to them that love God, and are the called
according to his pm‘pose ;’ where he hath, to speak
so with reverence to his Majesty, condescended
some way to abridge his own sovereignty and abso-
lute dominion, engaging himself by covenant, that
though he may do what he will, yet he shall will to
do nothing but what shall be for his people’s good;
so that in all his dispensations towards them, his
absolute dominion and his good will shall be com-
mensurable and of equal extent, the one of them never
to be stretched one hair’s breadth beyond the other.
And even in the most dark, involved, intricate,
abstruse, and mysterious providences wherein they
can read and take up least of his mind, and wherein
he (seeming to walk either in the greatest absolute-
ness of his dominion, or in the sharpest severity of
his justice) refuseth to give a particular account of
his matters and motions, he hath wonderfully stooped
and condescended to give this general, sweetly satis-
factory account, That they shall work for good, even
their spiritual good and profit, to the purging of
sin, and their further participation of his holiness.” 2

1 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 169.
2 “All did compassionate his religious lady and children.”--1bid.
p. 385.
1* Law’s Memorials, p. 10.
1 Sir George M‘Kenzie, one of his counsel, having told him, a
little before his death, that it was believed he was a coward, and
would die timorously, he replied that he would not die as a Roman
braving death, but that he would die as a Christian, without being
alfrighted. In proof of his mental tranquillity on the scaffold, it
may be stated that he addressed the spectators without the least
apparent agitation, using his ordinary gestures; and that his phy-
sician, who touched his pulse, found it heating at the usual rate, cahn
and strong—Sir George M‘Kenzie’s Memoirs of the Affairs of Scot-
land, p. 47. Burnet’s Own Times, vol. i., p. 179.
2 Carstairs’ Dedication of Mr. James Durham’s Posthumous
Treatise on the Ten Commandments “ to the right honourable,
truly noble, and renownedly religious lady, my Lady Marchioness of
Argyll.” In this dedication Carstairs also says, “Madam, being fully
persuaded that this savoury, sound, solid, soul-searching, and soul-
settling treatise will be acceptable to and improved by your ladyship,
for furtherance of this your spiritual good and advantage, beyond
what it will be to and by most others, I find no need of any longr con-
sultation with myself to whom to address its dedication, you having,
in my poor esteem, on many accounts, the deserved preference of
many (to say no more) ladies of honour now living; and since, withal,
I nothing doubt, had the precious and now perfected author been



MARCHIONESS OF ARGYLL.
39


The same writer further says to her, “What pos-
sible loss or want is it that cannot be made up
in Him, who is God all-sufficient, and in whom,
whatever is desirable and excellent amongst the
creatures, is to be found in an eminently transcendent
and infinitely more excellent way ; and from whom,
as the inexhaustibly full fountain, and incomprehen-
sibly vast, immense, storeless, boundless, and bet-
tomless ocean of all delightful, desirable, imaginable,
and possible perfections, the small drops and little
rivulets of seeming and painted perfections, scattered
amongst the creatures, issue forth.” 1
Not much longer than a year after the execution
of the marquis, she met with another trial in her
eldest son, Lord Lorn, who, like his father, was
tried before the Scottish Parliament, and con-
demned to be beheaded, but the sentence was not
executed?
It may be proper here to say something concern-
ing the worldly circumstances of the marchioness,
on her becoming a widow. A little before going
out to the place of execution, the marquis wrote
and subscribed a letter to the king, in which he
casts the desolate condition of his poor wife and
family upon his Majesty’s royal favour ; “ for,” says
he, “whatever maybe your Majesty’s displeasure
against myself, these, I hope, have not done any
thing to procure your Majesty’s indignation. And
since that family have had the honour to be faithful
subjects and serviceable to your royal progenitors,
I humbly beg my faults may not extinguish the
lasting merit and memory of those who have given
so many signal proofs of constant loyalty for many
generations. Orphans and widows, by special pre-
rogative and command from God, are put under
your protection and defence, that you suffer them not
to be wronged.” 3 But notwithstanding this letter,
there is reason to believe that had it been left entirely
to Charles himself, who cared nothing about orphans
and widows, the marchioness and her fatherless chil-
dren would have remained in poverty, and dependent
upon the bounty of others; while Middleton would
have been revelling on the rental of their estates.

Lauderdale, however, whose lady’s niece, as has


been observed before,l was the wife of Lord Lorn,
the eldest son of Argyll, succeeded in obtaining for
the noble widow and her family their rightful pro-
perty. A writer on that period, speaking of the
condemnation, forfeiture, and execution of the mar-
quis, says, “ Nor could all the great power and
interest that the Duke of Lauderdale had at court
ward off this terrible blow, though he procured a
gift of the forfeiture from his Majesty to the Earl
of Argyll and his creditors, to be applied in the
following manner :—1. £15,000 of free yearly rent
was granted to the Earl himself; 2. Allowance was
made for payment of mortgages or proper wad-
setts; 8. For such debts as were owing by the Earl
himself, or for which he was bound jointly with his
father; A. For my lady marchioness’s provision by
her marriage settlement, and for the portions of the
younger children of the family; and the remainder
of the estate was appointed to be equally divided
among the late marquis’s children.” 2
The Marchioness of Argyll was thus placed i1.
such circumstances as rendered her independent,
and put it in her power to exercise liberality to
others to a considerable extent.
She survived the marquis nearly seventeen years,
preserving during that period both the form and
spirit of widowhood. Taking up her residence at
Roseneath, and living for the most part in retire-
ment, she spent the remainder of her days in devo-
tion and good works, conducting her family on the
strictest principles of religion, attending the public
and private means of grace with great regularity,
ministering to the necessities of the diseased, the
poor and the persecuted, with affectionate liberality,
hearing all the afflictions which befel her with
exemplary patience, and giving evidence by her
whole deportment that she was under the influence
of pure and undefiled religion. We are furnished
with an account of the manner in which her widow-
hood was spent, by Mr. Neil Gillies, indulged
minister of the parish in which she resided,3 in a

alive, and minded the publication of it with a dedication to any
noble lady, yourself would have been the person; of whom, I know,
he had a high esteem, having himself, before his death, signified his
purpose of dedicating his piece on the Canticles to your ladyship’s
noble and much noted sister~in-1aw, my Lady Viscountess of Ken~
mure. It needs no epistles of commendation to you, who was so
thoroughly acquainted with its author ; the reading of it will abun-
dantly commend itself, and as a piece, though posthumous, of his
work, commend him in the gates.”
1 Carstairs’ Dedication of Mr. James Durham’s Posthumous
Treatise on the Ten Commandments.
2 See Appendix, no.
3 Wodrow’s History, "01. i., p. 154.
1 See p. 27.
2 Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Locheill, by Mr. John Drum-
I mend, pp. 167, 170, 195.
3 Mr. Neil Gillies had become indulged minister of Roseneath
i preiious to the year 1679. He was afterwards removed to Cardross,
upon a petition of the heritors and inhabitants of that parish to
the Privy Council. (Wodrow’s History, vol. iii, pp. 24, 156.) He
continued in Cardross till 1690, when he was translated to the
Inner High Church of Glasgow. In their reasons for his transla-
tion, the people of Glasgow urge his peculiar fitness on these
grounds :——“ 1st. The acceptahleness of his ministerial gifts to the
people here, who have often heard him—Ed. His converse since he
left the college, these 30 years past, has been not only with the best
but also the greatest, and those in most public employments both in
this kingdom and England, and so he must he more fit for such a
public place as this—3d. His prudence, patience, meekness, and
healing temper, which the animosities and difficulties of this place


110
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


w


letter to a friend after her death. The chief design
of the letter is to give some account of the circum-
stances connected with her last illness; but it is
preceded by the statement of a few facts relating to
her life. After observing that his purpose was not
to give any large account of the Lord’s dealing with
this lady, whom he designates the “truly noble and
worthy, now glorified Lady Marchioness of Argyll,”
in her last sickness, but only some brief hints, the
writer goes on to say, “Neither shall I stay to tell
you before this what is so well known to all who
knew or heard tell of her, how much the Lord had
enabled her to bear many a heavy cross, through a
long tract of time during her widowhood, besides
what had passed the rest of her life, which seldom
wanted some remarkable cross. Of her it might well
be said that she had endured a sore, a tedious, and
constant fight of afflictions (old ones continued and
new ones frequently superadded), yet was she enabled
to bear through with that faith, patience, submis-
sion, and Christian magnanimity that were very
visible, commendable, and exemplary, and (which
I cannot forget, being a thing that I often ad-
mired) such diligence and assiduity in following the
duties of praying, reading, hearing, praise, all the
acts of worship, a constant waiting upon all ordi-
nances and duties, public and private, and even
upon the weekly catechising, at which she delighted
to be present, and by which she confessed that she
had ever profited much; all these she so attended
that it was a rare thing to find her in an omis—
sion as to any of them. And as if a child under
the inspection of a teacher, or one put to task (and
indeed she did task herself), so did she follow and
keep close to these duties, being conscious that she


had one who stood over her head always, that was
witness to all her ways, to whom she must ere long
give an account of herself.
“ The rest of her time she did spend in overseeing
her children or grandchildren (of which there were
still a number about her), and christian entertain-
ment of such as came to visit her, with such exem-
plary gravity and sobriety, and other good entertain-
ment, as was much observed and commended; and
moreover, her cheerfully welcoming and helping
such as came for help or advice for their bodily
diseases. For this she was so famous that they
came frequently and in great numbers. Of such
she never wearied, nor was dissatisfied with their
coming, except in so far as they did disappoint them-
selves (as she in her humility deniedly expressed it)
by putting such confidence in her skill, which she
said was no skill; yet the experience that so many
had, of the Lord’s blessing, with good success, the
advices and helps she gave brought so many to her,
who seldom missed of the intent of their cerning,
and diverse of them would have within some time
returned to show what the Lord had done to them
by her means, and to give her thanks, for which she
was very thankful to Him who had so blessed what
she did. And that she might be the more useful
this way, she had always good store of medicaments
beside her; many of them brought from the apothe-
caries, but most of them she caused make herself,
never adventuring to give anything but what she
knew was safe, and could do no hurt.
“Neither was she behind any in the generation
for charity to the poor distressed, especially to such
as were of the household of faith. Great numbers
of poor people did flock to her; nor could the coldest
weather and most dangerous storms hinder them
to come to her from afar, although they knew
they were to pass over ferries, (the place of her
residence being surrounded with waters,) and it was
the observation of neighbours about, that her being
there brought multitudes on them; but to these
she was so liberal as I need only say, that I am
persuaded she gave with as much christian compas-
sion as any, “ drawing out the soul to the hungry,” 1
&c., and that the receivers themselves were ofttimes
astonished when they got so largely, as that inmany
miles, they get not so much from all as from her
alone, and it was the admiration of many how this
could hold out with her; but God blessed all. And
when sometimes it was told her that many of those
she gave to were but cheats and rogues, (as indeed
many of them were,) she would freely answer,

call so loud for.” They add, “that upon the foresaid accounts, the
late faithful, now glorified Mr. Rogers, who knew both him and this
place so well, did move vigorously for him, while he lived, and on his
death bed, and very near his end, being consulted by the eldership
about his successor, did seriously recommend him as the fittest
he could think upon.” Wodrow MSS., vol. xxviii, 4to, no. 32.
Mr. Gillies died in 1701. He was a very serious and impressive
preacher, as may be gathered from the two following anecdotes
which Wodrow has preserved:—“ One time Mrs. Luke heard him
either preaching on these words, ‘ Good will to men,’ or he cited
them, and enlarged on them in a holy rapture; and was running out
upon the infinite love and condescension in good will to men, and re-
peated it once or twice :—‘ Good will to men, and good will to me! O !
how sweet is this!’ A woman long under distress, but serious, cried
out, ‘And to me also l’-- and this was the beginning of her gracious
outgate,” [her deliverance from despondency.]—Wodrow’s Analecta,
vol. iv., p. 45. At another time, “ when he heard, betwixt sermons on
a Sabbath day, that Mr. Robert Langlands, about a year previous
transported from the Barony to Elgin of Moray, was dead; after
singing, when he began prayer, he said to this purpose: ‘Lord, what
wilt then do with us? It seems Thou art resolved to flit from
among us, when Thou art packing up some of thy best plenishing! ’
And the tears dropped down from his checks on Mr. Simon Kelly,
minister at , then precentor, who relates this. It was 'm
1697 or 1698.”-~Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. p. 336.
1 Isaiah, lviii. 10.



MARCHIONESS OF ABGYLL.
451


While we have opportunity let us do good to all
men, but especially to the household of faith, and
that she gave what she gave to them, not as to
cheats, but as to needy persons; and that if she gave
with a single eye she would be accepted, whatever
they were, and whatever use they made of what she
gave;1 yet did she little regard profane randy
beggars, though even these still got something by
her order; and when she met with any whom she
had ground to believe were of the household of faith,
to these she was most liberal, and gave them with
such compassion and kindness as did show what a
living member of Christ’s body she was.
“While she was daily exercised for most part
as I have now hinted, she did not trouble herself
with household affairs, (except in causing provide
things necessary for house keeping,) having laid
over these matters entirely on some whom she
trusted, of whose skill and fidelity she had long
experience, and her being exonered of this care and
burden she often acknowledged as a great ease to
her, and a great help to her, being taken up with
things of another nature, which was her main work
and delight.” 2
Such is the description given of the ornamental
character of this Lady, by a contemporary who
knew her well. Baptized into the Spirit of Jesus
Christ, who went about doing good, she was not
only attentive to the duties of personal piety, but
unwcaried in the performance of the great duties
of charity and benevolence. When the ear heard
her, then it blessed her; and when the eye saw her,
it gave witness to her; because she delivered the
poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had
none to help him. The blessing of him that was
ready to perish came upon her; and she caused the
widow’s heart to sing for joy. Imitating Him who
“maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the
good, and scndeth rain on the just and on the
unjust,” she made it her business to minister to the
welfare even of the undeserving. Such was the

1 It is obvious that this does not mean that she intended by her
liberality to encourage the idle, who, if willing, might have sup-
ported themselves, or to furnish the vicious with the means of
dissipation; but simply, that when she saw men in misery she felt
herself bound to relieve them, although she could not in every case
prevent them from making a had use of what she gave. Liberality
ought, no doubt, to be exercised with discretion as well as with
kindness,—an important principle to be observed in this department
of well-doing ; for to give without reflection, or capriciously, may do
more harm than good ; may make the idle still more indolent, and the
vicious still more depraved, and may thus increase wretchedness
in the attempt to relieve it. But still, even the profligate and
abandoned, when in misery, must not be left to perish.
2 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxvii, 4to, no. 27. This document is in the
handwriting of Mr. Gillies, as appears from comparing it with
another paper, which Wodrow marks as in the handwriting of that
minister.
temper and conduct inspired by the religion which
she professed, and such was the spirit of the religion
which Charles and his government misrepresented
as fanaticism, sedition, rebellion, and laboured, by
the violence of persecution, to crush and extinguish-
It thus appeared hoW eminently instrumental all
the afliictive events which had befallen this noble
widow, had been in promoting her spiritual improve-
ment. Accompanied by the divine blessing, they were
in her case productive of those happy fruits, which,
left to themselves, they will never naturally produce.
Another minister, Mr. John Carstairs, who was also
personally acquainted with her, addressing her only
four years previous to her death, bears testimony in
like manner to the distinguished progress she had
made in Christian excellence, through the influence
of adverse dispensations. In the document from
which we have before quoted,l after observing that
the King of Saints “has imposed upon every cross
that his people meet with, not excepting (to say so),
vessels of the greatest burden of affliction that sail
up and down the sands, as it were, of the trouble-
some sea of this world, the toll and custom of some
spiritual good to be paid to them,” and after giving
expression to a wish, “that all the graciously sincere
lovers of God, and the effectually called according
to his purpose, might be persuaded and prevailed
with, to set themselves down at the receipt 0/’ tfiese
customs, from the many crosses and afflictions that
come in their way, with a fixed resolution to suffer
none of them to pass without paying the eusz‘om
imposed by the King,” Carstairs goes on to say,
“ It is now, noble madam, a long time, not far from
towards thirty years, (whatever was before,) since
your ladyship was known by some to be helped,
through grace, seriously to sit down at the receipt of
these customs from the cross and afflicting dispensa-
tions which then occurred to you, whereby ye did
observably improve, better and increase your spiri-
tual stock and state, some way to the admiration of
standers-by; and since that time, for most part of it,
you have been, in the holy providence of God, tried
with a tract of tribulations, each of them more try-
ing than another, and some of them that, I think,
(as once the blest author of this treatise, on occasion
of a sad and surprising stroke, the removal of the
desire of his eyes, his gracious and faithful wife,
after a whiles silence, with much gravity and great
composure of spirit, said, ‘Who could persuade me
to believe that this is good if God had not said it P’)
if all the world had said and sworn it, they could
very hardly, if at all, have persuaded you to believe


; 1 Carstairs’ Epistle Dedicatory prefixed to Durham’s Posthumous
Exposition of the Ten Commandments.
F


A2
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


that they were good. But since God, that cannot
lie, hath said it, there is no room left to debate or
doubt of it; let be to deny it. And if your Lady-
ship (as I hope you have,) hath been all this while
gathering up the customs of spiritual good and gain,
upon these many, various and great tribulations,
wherewith the Lord, no doubt in a blessed design
of singular good to you, hath thought fit to exer-
cise you beyond most persons living, at least of
your noble station and extraction, O! what a vast
stock and treasure of rich and soul—enriching pre-
cious experiences of the good and profit of all these
afflictions and tribulations, must you needs have
lying by you 1” He further says, “I could, from my
own particular certain knowledge and observation,
long ago and of late, (having had the honour and
happiness to he often in your company, and at some
of the lowest ebbs of your outward prosperity,) and
from the knowledge of others more knowing and
observing than I, say more of your rich incomes of
gain and advantage, of your improvements, of the
countervailings of your damage, and of the-up-
makings of all your losses this way, than either my
fear of incurring the construction of a flatterer with
such as do not know you as I do, will permit; or
your christian modesty, sobriety, and self-denial
will admit: And to undertake to say all that might
truly, and without complimenting, be said to this
purpose, would be thought by your Ladyship as far
below you to crave or expect, as it would be above
me suitably to perform.”
In private intercourse the conversation of the
marchioness was both edifying and interesting. Her
acquaintance with the Sacred Writings, and with
the subordinate standards of the Church of Scotland,
enabled her to speak intelligently on questions of
theology, and she was able to give a pleasing account
of events which had befallen her family, as well as of
those which had befallen the church and nation,
during the stirring period in which she had lived.
“ I must not,” says Mr. Gillies, “forget to tell that
her acquaintance with the Scriptures, and with our
Confession of Faith, (the book which, next to the
Bible, she was most versed in,) did sufficiently
witness how well she was stored with the know-
ledge of divine mysteries; and although she was
no great reader of polemic divinity, yet when any
head of controversy fell to be spoken of in her pre-
sence, she would, upon the sudden, from the Bible
and Confession, adduce such allegations and testi-
monies as were apposite to the things then spoken
of, so that the most judicious that were about her
were often and much edified by her. She was also
well able to give a good account of things that had


passed during the late troubles, and many remark--
able passages of Providence that fell out in these
times, towards the church and kingdom, and towards
her own family, to the great satisfaction of those
that conversed with her.” It is to be regretted that
neither she herself, nor Mr. Gillies, has chronicled
these “ remarkable passages.”
The marchioness lived to a considerably advanced
age. In her last illness she exhibited the same
pious spirit with which she was animated during
her past life, and her latter end was peace. Only a
few facts, however, relating to her death-bed scene,
and the protracted sickness preceding it, have been
preserved, and these we shall give in the words of
Mr. Gillies, by whom they have been recorded.
“Her disease,” says he, “of which she died, com-
menced in April, 167 7, and continued during the
period of eleven months, till her departure. Yet from
April till November she kept her feet, always waiting
on duties in public and private, as she was wont to
do, bearing the burden of her disease so patiently
that none but those that were nearest her and most
intimate with her could almost know that anything
ailed her. She, however, had death still in view,
and her strength was still diminishing gradually till
November, at which time there was the accession of
a great cold to her former disease, which forced her
to take bed, November 11th. After some days she
got up again, having recovered from the effects of
that cold; but her old disease still continued and in-
creased, so that from that time forth she never went
out of her chamber to the gallery, where she used
to appear in public. She therefore appointed the
daily worship to be performed in her chamber, where
also was performed the Sabbath day’s work and week
day’s sermon, admitting there all that pleased to
come, as she had done in the gallery, never shutting
her gates or doors upon any all these times, what-
ever might be the hazard. During this time she
contracted a great cold in the left side of her head,
which was caused by the leaving a window open to
help the chimney that does not vent well when the
wind is at east. This cold brought that side of her
head to such a distemper as never left her, and did
not a little molest her, while her main sickness did
still increase, yet without impairing her judgment,
memory, or sense (which were fresh and entire
almost unto the last), and without pain or heart
sickness, which was a great wonder to herself, and
oft acknowledged as God’s great mercy to her
in his loosing the pins of her tabernacle so gently,
that she was yet able to attend and go about any
ordinary duty: for all this while she waited on every
duty, most part sitting up (and but seldom lying)



MARCHIONESS OF ARGYLL.
4:5


on her couch in the chamber, going to bed and rising
almost at the ordinary times as when in health, con-
tinuing to join in all acts of worship, and holding
out, in the Sabbath day’s work, without wearying,
to the admiration of all who saw her weakness, and
to her own admiration. And although a heavy dis-
ease” ‘
Here Mr. Gillies’s account of her last sickness
and death abruptly stops. We, however, gather a
few facts respecting the subsequent stages of her
trouble, from a long poetical tribute to her memory,
of his composition, embodying the particulars con-
taincd in his prose account of her, the most of which
we have extracted, and carrying the narrative down
to the moment in which she expired. From this
poem we learn, that after this she was afllicted with
severe and tedious bodily distress, which she bore
with a patience and meekness that beautifully har-
monized with the bright exemplification she had given
of these graces under the multiplied afflictions of her
life. We also learn from it, that after this she suf-
fered severe mental distress. Satan has often been
permitted to disturb the peace of the most eminent
of God’s people on their death-beds, and by setting
their sins, as it were, in array before them, he has
tempted them to yield to the despairing imagination,
that it is presumptuous for them to expect forgive-
ness and salvation from a God of infinite purity and
justice. Such was the temptation with which this
pious lady was assailed in the prospect of eternity.
But looking away from everything about herself, and
trusting to the righteousness of Christ as the only
foundation of her hope of eternal life, she was at
last relieved; and becoming victorious over tempta-
tion and fear, she said, “ O my case is great ; great,
great is my case.” After this she again endured
severe and protracted inward bodily agony. These
agonies, says Mr. Gillies, can hardly be “set forth”
but as they “expressed her worth, and how much
her Saviour had trusted to the grace which he had
strongly planted in her noble heart.” By-standers
were astonished to see one who had suffered so
much during life, tried so severely by her heavenly
Father to the last. But the days of her mourning
were now near an end. Her strength gradually
sunk, and on the 13th of March, 1678, after a long
experience of the trials and vicissitudes of human
life, she breathed out her spirit into the hands of her
God and Saviour, with the greatest peace and tran-
quillity, in the 68th year of her age, bearing testimony
with her dying breath to the goodness of the Lord.2

Among the Wodrow MSS, besides Mr. Gillies’s -

long poem to her memory, from which these par-
ticulars are drawn, there is another by a different
hand, but it is too long to be here inserted, nor has
it any claims to poetical merit. It commemorates
her as distinguished by a “strong heart, a sound
judgment, an active liberal hand,” and “ a mind most
noble.” It celebrates the attractions of her person,
as well as her “ parts, virtues, graces,” and her rare
exemplary character as “a friend, sister, consort,
and mother 5” and pronounces her “a public blessing,
an universal good.” The following lines may be
quoted as a specimen :—~
“ And let us never lose the memory
Of that rich pattern thou wast seen to be
To great and small, he who thy life should view
Saw clear it did the Bible transcript shew,
And who thy steps will follow hard behind
The way to endless bliss is sure to find.
-X~ * -X- * 5(- * i‘
“ You must acknowledge here a light,
A shining star quite carried from our sight,
Never again t’ adorn our sphere, whose rays,
\Yhile here it shone with us, made gladsome days,
Glad were our hearts: how many warmed by thee,
Estccmed thy presence a felicity.
But thou wilt yet once more return again,
As one of the Rcdeerncr’s glorious train.” 1
These notices of the Marchioness of Argyll’s cha-
racter we cannot conclude more appropriately than
in the words of Mr. Gillies, who has summed it up
in a sentence or two. “Her life,” says he, “is well
known to have been filled with godliness, righteous-
ness, sobriety, charity, and all christian virtues, with
a constant adherence to the truths and ways of God,
without any fall or stain upon any part of her life.
Yea, which is admirable, she lived to the age of sixty-
eight, without ever being slurred through her whole
life with any scandal or crime; which the most
blameless saints are liable to, and have been sorely
afflicted with ; yet did none of the worst of her
enemies ever adventure to asperse her with any
shameful thing, nor did they ever tax her with any-
thing but her principles and avowed profession and
practice, her constant open adherence to which was
her glory.” How few the number over whose graves
such a high encomiurn can with truth be pronounced!
How few, through their whole life, from youth to
advanced age, have so conspicuously displayed the
christian virtues, and kept themselves so unspotted
from the defilements of the world, as that their
greatest enemies could find nothing against them
except in the matter of their God!
Besides her eldest daughter, Lady Anne, and her
eldest son, Archibald, ninth Earl of Argyll, formerly
noticed, the marchioness had issue to the marquis:

1Wodrow MSS, vol. xxvii, 4to, no. 27.
8 Ibid., folio, no. so.
1 Wodrcw 3158., vol. xxviL, folio, no. 80.



44 THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.




1. Lord Neil Campbell of Ardmaddie, who, on his
brother’s invasion, was committed prisoner to the
castle of Edinburgh. 2. Lady Jean, who was mar-
ried to Robert Kerr, first Marquis of Lothian, to
whom she had ten children. 3. Lady h'lary, who
was married, first at Roseneath, on the 22d of
September, 1657, to George sixth Earl of Caithness,
by whom she had no issue; and who, after his death,
was married on the 7th of April, 1678, to Sir John
Campbell, first Earl of Breadalbane,l to whom she
had one son.
marquis enumerated in Douglas’s Peerage;2 but
besides these she had to him a daughter named
Lady Isabella, who resided with her sister, the
Countess of Caithness, and who is sometimes men-
tioned in the epistolary correspondence of that lady?

I Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 298. 2 Vol. i., p. 100

3 Law’s Memorials, note by the Editor, p. 10.

MRS. JAMES GUTHRIE, MRS. JAMES DURHAM, AND
MRS. JOHN
WE shall here cluster together some notices of three
excellent women, ministers’ wives, who lived during
the persecution—Jane Ramsay, the widow of Mr.
James Guthrie, who suffered martyrdom in 1661;
Margaret Mure, the widow of Mr. James Durham,
one of the ministers of the High Church, Glasgow;
and Janet Mure, wife of Mr. John Carstairs, also
minister of the High Church, Glasgow. Many facts
or incidents of their lives have not indeed been spared
by the mouldering hand of time ; but even the few
which remain are not without interest, particularly
when we consider the relation in which these ladies
stood to three of the most eminent men who adorned
the Church of Scotland during the 17th century, by
the lustre of their talents, the fervour of their piety,
and their unswerving faithfulness to the cause of
God. These women were in every respect suitable
companions for the eminent men to whom they were
united. Distinguished for enlightened and ardent
piety, they proved main-springs of encouragement
and strength to them in the work of the Lord, by
their conversation, their demeanour and counsel; and
having takenup the cross, instead of tempting them to
unfaithfulness to conscience, when trials and difficul-
ties in doing the will of God arose, they encouraged
them to stedfastness and resolution, exhibiting that
humility, patience, and self-sacrifice, which constitute
the genuine spirit of the cross. All of them suffered
more or less in the cause of Presbytery, and they
thanked God that “unto them it was given in the
behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also
to suffer for his sake.”
Mns. JAMES GUTHRIE was more severely tried
than the other two. She was the second lady,
whom the prelatic persecution made a widow,1 Mr.

1 The Marchioness of Argyll was the first.

CARSTAIRS.
Guthrie having been condemned by the Parliament,
to be hanged at the cross of Edinburgh as a traitor,
on the 1st of June 1661, and his head thereafter
to be struck off and affixed on the Nether Bow;
which sentence was executed in all its parts. The
grounds on which he was condemned, were his
owning the “ Western Remonstrance,” “The Causes
of God’s Wrath,” &c.; but Middleton, who had the
chief hand in urging on the proceedings, was actuated
by personal malice towards Guthrie, who, in 1650,
had carried, in the Commission of the Church, a
motion for his excommunication, and who, by appoint-
ment of the commission, had publicly pronounced
the sentence in his own church at Stirling. On
that occasion Mrs. Guthrie exhibited, what was the
prevalent governing principle of her life, that strict
conscientiousness, which, laying consequences out
of view, looks only to the call of duty. When on
the morning of the Sabbath, on which Mr. Guthrie
was to pronounce the sentence against Middleton, a
messenger from the king, or, according to some, from
a nobleman, arrived at his house, just as he was about
to go to church, desiring him to delay pronouncing
it, she said to him, on observing him perplexed,
“ My heart, what the Lord gives you light and clear-
ness to do, that do, without giving apositive answer
to the messenger.” The high christian character of
this lady is attested in the farewell letter which
Mr. Guthrie addressed to her from his prison, on the
day on which he was executed. This letter is
interesting, both as a relict of a dying martyr, and
as a memorial of the lowly piety and supreme devo-
tion to duty, which characterized the person to whom
it is affectionately written. It also indicates the
sources of comfort suggested to her mind, in her
trying circumstances. It is as follows :—


These are all her children by the '

MRS. JAMES GUTH RIE.
415


“MY HnAn'n—Being within a few hours to lay
down my life for the testimony of Jesus Christ, I do
send these few lines as the last obedience of unfeigned
and spotless affection which I bear unto you, not
only as one flesh, but as a member with me of that
blessed mystical body of the Lord ; for I trust you
are, and that God who hath begun his good work in
you, will also perfect it and bring it to an end, and
give you life and salvation. Whatever may be your
infirmities and weakness, yet the grace of God shall
be sufficient for you, and his strength shall be per-
fected in your weakness. To me you have been a
very kind and faithful yoke-fellow, and not a hinderer
but a helper in the work of the Lord. I do hear
you this testimony as all the recompense I can now
leave you with :—In all the trials I have met with
in the work of the ministry these twenty years past,
which have not been few, and that from aggressors
of many sorts, upon the right hand and upon the
left, you were never a tempter of me to depart away
from the living God, and from the way of my duty
to comply with an evil course, or to hearken ‘to the
counsels of flesh and blood, for avoiding the cross,
and for gaining the profit and preferment of a present
world. You have wrought much with your hands
for furnishing bread to me and to my children, and
was always willing that I should show hospitality,
especially to those that bore the image of God.
These things I mention not to puff you up, but to
encourage you under your present affliction and
distress, being persuaded that God will have regard
unto you and unto the children of my body, which
I leave unto your care, that they may be bred up in
the knowledge of the Lord. Let not your wants
and weaknesses discourage you: there is power,
riches, and abundance with God, both as to the
things of the body and things of the soul; and he
will supply all your wants and carry you through.
It is like to be a most trying time, but cleave you
to God and keep his way, without casting away your
confidence; fear not to be drowned in the depths of
the troubles that may attend this land; God will hide
you under his shadow, and keep you in the hollow
of his hand. Be sober and of a meek spirit; strive
not with Providence, but be subject to him who is
the Father of spirits. Decline not the cross, but
embrace it as your own. Love all that love the
Lord, and delight in their fellowship. Give yourself
unto prayer, and be diligent in reading the Holy
Scriptures. Wait on the ordinances, and have them
in great esteem as the appointed means of God for
your salvation. Join the exercise ‘ of piety and
repentance together, and manifest your faith in the
fruits of sincere obedience and of a gospel conversa-

tion. Value your conscience above your skin. Be
not solicitous, although you know not wherewith to
clothe you and your children, or wherewith to dine;
God’s providences and promises are a true, rich, and
never-failing portion. Jesus Christ be all your
salvation and all your desire! You, I recommend
unto Him, and Him unto you: My Heart! I
recommend you to the eternal love of Jesus Christ.
I am helped of God, and hope I shall be helped to
the end. Pray for me while I am here, and praise
with me hereafter. God be with you !—-I am yours,-
“ JAMES GUTHRIE.”
“Edinburgh Tolbooth, June 1st, 1661.”
This letter was calculated to arm Mrs. Guthrie’s
mind with fortitude and submission under the cruel
and ignominious death of her husband. Other con-
siderations would conspire in bringing into exercise
the same christian graces. Though condemned as a
traitor, he had committed nothing worthy of death,
but fell a martyr for keeping the commandment of
God and the testimony of Jesus Christ. He encoun-
tered death with an unshrinking courage, which
ranks with that of the most heroic of prophets and
apostles. It was an alleviating circumstance, too,
to reflect that his self-devotion in the cause of Christ
procured for him, as it deserved, the affection, honour,
and admiration of the wise and good, who regarded
his death as a judicial murder. Nor were the reli-
gious ladies of that time wanting in paying to him
the tribute of their respectful and admiring homage. '
Though these considerations were fitted to mitigate
her sorrow, yet the tragedy of his death, in all its

1 In proof of this, the following instance may be given. After
Gut-ln'ie had been executed, his headless corpse was put into a coffin
and carried to the old kirk aisle, to be prepared for interment, by
several devout ladies of quality who had tendered their friendly
services. The dressing of the dead is always solemn, but the per-
formance of this duty to the mortal remains of an honoured martyr,
who has sealed the truths of God with his blood, is associated with
feelings of profound veneration. It was so on the present occasion.
Some of the ladies who were so engaged, dipped their napkins in the
blood that flowed from Guthrie’s mangled body. Sir Archibald Prim-
rose, Lord Register, observing what they did, asked them their reason
for so doing, and charged them with imitating the superstition of the
papists, who collect and worship the relicts of saints. “ N0,”said one of
them, “we are not actuated by superstitious motives, we do not intend
to worship the martyr’s blood, but when we go to the throne of grace
we will hold up that blood to God, that it may cry for vengeance on
those who have most cruelly shed it.” During the performance of
their solemn offices, a respectable young gentleman, unknown at
the time to any of them, but afterwards discovered to be Mr. George
Stirling, who became an eminent surgeon in Edinburgh, came in
with a phial of fragrant ointment, and, without uttering a word,
poured upon the corpse the ointment, which diffused through the
whole building a most delightful odour. “ (~iod bless you, Sir,”
exclaimed one of the ladies, “ for this labour of love which you have
shown to the slain body of a servant of Jesus Christ.” Bowing
respectfully to the ladies, he silently retired. “ Janet Bruce,” says
Wodrow, “who was Dr. Sir Thomas Burnet’s lady, if I have not
forgotten, was one of these geutlewomen that put their napkins in
.\I r. Guthrie’s blood.”-—Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. ii., p. 103. M‘Crie’s
Sketches of Scottish Church History, Ed edition, p. 396.


416 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.



appalling circumstances, would tend at first to over~
power the mind, and to exclude from it reflection
on such alleviating topics.
Mrs. Guthrie and her children were left in poor
circumstances. But God, who in his providence exer-
cises a special care over the fatherless children and
widows of his martyred servants, raised up for them
kind friends. Among others, Sir George Maxwell of
Pollock took a particular interest in their temporal
welfare. The following anecdote is highly honour-
able to the liberality of that benevolent gentleman,
and interesting as illustrating the unexpected and
remarkable way in which God has sometimes sup-
plied the wants of the widows and orphans of his
departed saints in their distress. “I am assured,”
says l/Vodrow, “by a good hand that had it from
Mr. George Lang, who was employed, that Sir George
Maxwell of Pollock, a little after Mr. Guthrie’s exe-
cution, hearing his relict was in want, called for
Mr. George Lang, his chaplain, and told him that
he was mighty uneasy since he had heard Mrs.
Guthrie was in straits, and he had little money by
him, but took out a purse of gold, most of it old
Scots coins, of which he was very curious, and told
him he would rather have sent, if he had had it by
him, twice the value of it in ordinary money, but he
could not and would not delay, and gave it him, and
sent him in to Edinburgh express with it and a letter
to Mrs. Guthrie. It was to the value of five hun-
dred or six hundred merks.l Mr. Lang went in by
Glasgow and borrowed five or six hundred merks,
and left the gold in pledge, carried in and delivered
the money to Mrs. Guthrie.” 2
[n the beginning of the year 1666, Mrs. Guthrie
was put to trouble on account of a book entitled
“ An Apologetical Relation of the Particular Suffer-
ings of the Faithful Ministers and Professors of the
Church of Scotland since August, 1660,” which was
written by Mr. John Brown, minister of Wamphray
at the Restoration, and who, on being banished his
majesty’s dominions for faithfully adhering to his prin-
ciples, took refuge in Holland. This able work was
printed in Holland in 1665, and a number of copies
were sent over to this country. The government
being informed of the character of the book, and of its
being circulated in several parts of the kingdom, and
having, upon perusing it themselves, found it, to use
their own language, “ to be full of seditious, trea-
sonable, and rebellious principles, contrived, of pur-
pose, to traduce the king’s authority and government,

1 That is, between £28 and £33 sterling.
2 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., p. 305. Mr. Lang had no authority
to pledge the gold coins, but knowing the value which Sir George
Maxwell set upon them, he did so that they might be recovered
when Sir George got a supply of money.
the proceedings of the late parliament, and the king’s
privy council,” they resolved to put it down. As it
vindicates at length the Marquis of Argyll and Mr.
James Guthrie, the first victims who, after the Resto-
ration, were immolated at the shrine of the Moloch
of personal revenge and arbitrary power, and exposes
the illegality, injustice, and cruelty of the proceed-
ings of the government against them, it was natural
that Mrs. Guthrie should procure a copy of the
book. The copy she had got being found in her
house, probably when it was searched for ‘some of
the Covenanters—such persons, from her relation to
Mr. Guthrie, and from her known character, being
suspected of resorting to or taking shelter under her
roof -she and her daughter, Sophia Guthrie, were
brought before the privy council on the 8th of Febru-
ary, 1666. On appearing before them, they were
required to declare upon oath what they knew as to
the author of the book, and to discover from whom
they had received it. This they refused to do, upon
which the council sentenced them both to be sent to
Shetland, there to be confined during the council’s
pleasure, and to be kept close prisoners till they
should be transported to the place of their banish-
ment. These proceedings were not only harsh, but
illegal. No law had as yet been published against the
“ Apologetical Relation.” It was only on the day on
which this sentence was passed upon Mrs. Guthrie
and her daughter that the council emitted their pro-
clamation against it, ordaining that, upon the 14th of
February instant, it should be publicly burned on the
High-street of Edinburgh, nearto the market cross,
by the hand of the hangman, and that all possessing it
resident on the south of the Tay, should deliver the
same to the sheriffs of the respective shires or their
deputies, to be by them transmitted to the clerk of
the privy council not later than the last day of Febru—
ary instant, and those on the north of Tay not later
than the ‘21st of March next, under the penalty of
two thousand pounds Scots money. It is obvious,
then, that as at the time when the “Apologetical
Relation” was discovered in Mrs. Guthrie’s house,
there was no law in existence forbidding any to have
it, its being found in her possession was no crime
against any existing statute, and that consequently
the sentence pronounced against her and her daughter
was arbitrary and illegal. “ Where no law is, there
is no transgression.”
They lay in prison till the next meeting of the
council, which was on the 2d of March. To that
meeting they presented a petition, praying that their
confinement might be altered to some place upon the
Continent, probably intending, should they be al-

lowed, to remove to Holland, which, from the num-


MRS. JAMES DURHAM. 47




ber of their expatriated countrymen resident there,
as well as from the character of the country itself,
though it is not one of the best of climates, they
would have felt a more eligible place of banishment
than so remote, solitary, cold and unhealthy a part
of the world as Shetland.‘ The council referred their
petition to his majesty’s commissioner, with power
to do in the matter as he should find cause.l
What punishment the commissioner inflicted upon
them we are not directly informed. Mrs. Guthrie,
however, was banished for some years from Edin-
burgh. This appears from a petition which she pre-
sented to the privy council about the beginning of
January, 1669, “showing that her only son was in
Edinburgh under a sad distemper, to the hazard of
his life, and therefore supplicating that, notwith-
standing her confinement, she might be licensed for
some time to come to Edinburgh and wait upon her
son.” The council, at their meeting of the 15th of
January, “upon consideration of this petition, and
of a testimonial subscribed by Dr. Burnet, which
was at the same time presented, allow the petitioner
to come to Edinburgh, and to reside therein until
the fifteenth day of February next, to the effect
above mentioned.” ‘~’
Here we lose sight of Mrs. Guthrie in the history
of the persecution; nor have we discovered how long
she lived subsequently to this period. l/Ve shall there-
fore close this sketch with a brief notice of her only
son referred to above, whose name was lVilliam. At
the time of his father’s death he was a child not
more than four or five years old. Yearning over
him with all the affection of a parent’s heart,
Guthrie, in a last interview, took him upon his knee,
and gave him such religious advices as were suited
to his infant mind. “ 11V illie,” said he, among other
things, “though your comrades should tell you, and
cast it up to you, that your father was hanged, think
not shame of it, for it is upon a good cause.” But
William was so young as not to be aware of the
tragic fate of his father, and as scarcely to be re-
strained from playing in the streets on the very day
of his father’s execution. When, however, he grew
up to boyhood, he became thoughtful and serious.
While other boys were enjoying their youthful sports,
lVilliam was to be seen at the Nether Bow Port,
where the head of his dear father was fixed on a
spike, a monument of the martyr’s heroism, and of
the government’s injustice; and there looking up Q
with rivetted gaze to the manly countenance, the
tragedy of his father’s execution was presented to
his imagination, as if in all its living reality. Often


would he return to the spot and gaze upon the
spectacle, as if he could never become weary of
gazing upon it; and, on returning home to his mother,
when she inquired where he had been, his usual
reply was, “ I have been seeing my father’s head.”
He remembered or was told his father’s last advices
to him; he read his father’s last speech from the
scaffold, a copy of which the martyr subscribed and
sealed, and gave to his friends, to be kept for his son
until he became older; and the mantle of his father
seemed to have fallen upon him. As he grew up,
his habits of seriousness increased; he was much
employed in meditation, study, and prayer.‘ Having
devoted himself to the work of the ministry, he pro-
secuted the preparatory studies with success, and
gave indications of much future usefulness; but,
being always of a delicate constitution, he was cut
off when about to receive license as a preacher of
the gospel. By his early death his mother’s hopes
of seeing him useful in the church below were dis-
appointed. It was not, however, the will of God that
he should be employed in His service on earth, and
she doubtless bowed with submission to the sove-
reign and wise determination of the Supreme Ruler
of all things, finding in this a new influence to attract
her to heaven, and a new motive to quicken her
diligence in making preparation for it.
Mns. JAMES DURHAM, whose maiden name was
Margaret Mure, was the fourth daughter of William
Mure, Esq. of Glanderston, by his first wife Jean
Blair, daughter of a gentleman of that name in the
West?’ She was born August 26, 1618. Enjoying
the inestimable blessing of religious parents, who
both set before her a good example, and trained her
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, she
became at an early period of life the subject of the
saving work of the Holy Spirit. Educated too in the
strictest principles of Presbytery, of which her father

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 7. 2 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
I Wodrow’s Analecia, vol. iii., p. 103. Life of Guthrie in Free
Church Publications, pp. 172-175.
2 Besides M Durham and a daughter, Jean, who died in infancy,
Mr. Mure of Glandcrston had, by his first wife, other two daughters,
Ursula, who was married to William Ralston of that ilk, and Jean,
who was married to Mr. James llamilton of Halleraigs, a nephew of
Lord Claneboy: and by his second wife, Jean Hamilton, sister to
Lord Viscount Claneboy, he had J anet, to be next noticed, who was
married to Mr. John Carstairs; Elizabeth, who was married to
Alexander Dunlop, minister of Paisley; and Agnes, who was married
to William Porterficld of Quarrelton. All these ladies were eminent
for piety in their day. For some notices of Mrs. Ralston, see Wod-
row’s Analeeta, vol. iii. pp. 18, 20; and Mr. John Carstairs’ Letters,
pp. 159-161. In Rutherford’s Letters, White and Kenncdy’s edition,
pubhshcd 1818, there is a letter of Rntlieri‘ord’s to this lady, printed
for the first time (p. 716). Elizabeth, the wife of Mr. Dunlop, Inf
being present at a house conventicle in Edinburgh, in November,
1676, was imprisoned by order of the Privy Council, till she found
caution, under a thousand merks, to remove from the town of Edin-
burgh, and six miles around it.—Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 335.


48
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



was a warm supporter, she continued through life
to maintain them, in honour and dishonour, through
evil report and good report. She was married first
to the famous Mr. Zachary Boyd, minister of the
Barony church of Glasgow, and next to the still
more celebrated Mr. James Durham, as his second
wife. But- she became a widow a second time in
1658, Durham having died on the 25th of June that
year, in the 36th year of his age. She survived him
more than thirty years, living during that long
period in a state of widowhood. Some time after
his death, she appears to have changed the place of
her residence to Edinburgh. At least she was
residing there in 1666,‘ and subsequently during the
period of the persecution.
After Mr. Durham’s death she carefully preserved
his manuscript lectures and sermons, with aview to
their being published for general usefulness, and
many of them were actually published. Among these
may be mentioned his Exposition of the Song of
Solomon, to which she has prefixed an epistle dedi-
catory, signed and apparently written by herself, to
the Viscountess of Kenmure; and his Treatise on
the Ten Commandments. This latter work, from
its very nature, would be regarded with jealousy by
a persecuting government, whose whole policy was
in direct opposition to the law of God, and some
difficulty was experienced when it was first printed,
in obtaining permission to its being circulated in
Scotland, there being then no such thing as the
freedom of the press in our land. Having got it
printed in London, Mrs. Durham presented a peti-
tion to the lords of the privy council, praying them
to allow it to be imported from England and sold in
Scotland. The council’s answer to her petition is
embodied in the following‘ act :—“ Edinburgh, 49th
November, 1675. The lords of his majesty’s privy
council having considered a petition presented by
Margaret Mure, relict of Mr. James Durham, late
minister at Glasgow, do recommend to the Bishop
of Edinburgh to revise a book written by the peti-
tioner’s husband, entitled, A Practical Exposition of
the Ten Commandments, which is already printed
at London, and to report his opinion thereanent to
the council, that thereafter they may give such
order in favour of the petitioner concerning the said
book as they shall think fit, and in the meantime
discharge and prohibit all printers, Stationers, and
others to reprint or import any copies of the said
book, under the pain of confiscation of the same,


and such other pains as the council shall think fit
to inflict, and appoint intimation to be made hereof
to the Stationers, printers, and others, to the efiect
foresaid.” ‘
As might have been expected, Mrs. Durham
adhered to the faithful ministers, who, for noncon.
formity, had been ejected from their charges to make
way for the establishment of prelacy. And maintain—
ing the freedom of Christ’s ambassadors to dispense
the ordinances of the gospel, not only without
licenses from the civil magistrate, but even when
the civil magistrate has peremptorily discharged
them to preach, baptize or perform any of the duties
of the ministerial office, she had too much principle
and spirit not to act upon these sentiments. She
was accordingly not only a frequenter of conventicles,
but an encourager of these interdicted meetings, so
far as to allow them to be held in her own house.
For a considerable time this was not known to the
authorities of Edinburgh, or it was overlooked by the
town major, who was in the habit of accepting money
as a bribe, not to interfere with the private worship-
ping assemblies of the nonconformists in the city.
When, however, the news of the tragical death of
Archbishop Sharp, which took place May 3, 1679,
had reached Edinburgh, the government becoming
greatly alarmed and irritated, such as kept conven-
ticles in their own houses, or frequented them, were
exposed in an increased degree to danger and hard-
ship. On the Ath of May, the day after the Arch-
bishop’s death, a meeting for sermon was held at
night in Mrs. Durham’s house. The number present
was about thirty, and the most of them were her near
relations, their children and servants. The preacher
was Mr. l/Villiam Hamilton, a young gentleman of
eminent piety, and the brother of Mr. James Hamilton
of Hallcraig, who was married to Mrs. Durham’s full
sister Jean. When engaged in religious services
this peaceful meeting was furiously broke in upon
by the town major with a party of soldiers, who,
seizing all present, committed them to prison. Mrs.
Durham and her sister, Mrs. John Carstairs, who
was one of the hearers, were, with the rest, impri-
soned in the tolbooth for some nine or ten days, when
on their petitioning the privy council, an order was
granted for their being set at liberty. The act of the
council is as follows :—“Edinburgh_. 13 May, 1679.
The lords of his majesty’s privy council, having
considered a petition of Margaret Mure, relict of
Mr. James Durham, and Janet Mure, spouse to Mr.
John Carstairs, for themselves and their children
and servants,‘ and divers other persons, prisoners in

1 Mr. William Veitc11,in his Memolrs. (p. 38,) states that when
sent on a perilous mission to Edinburgh by the Covenanters, previous
to the battle of Pentland Hills, he intended to reside all night in the
house of Mrs. Durham, which was in Bristo Street.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.



MRS. JAMES DURHAM.
49


the tolbooth of Edinburgh, for being present at a
conventicle kept in the house of the said Margaret
Mure, upon the 4th instant, supplicating, that in
regard of their miserable and poor condition, the
council would give order for their liberty, the said
lords do declare the petitioners free of any restraint
or imprisonment by their warrant, and remit to the
magistrates of Edinburgh to take such course with
them as they shall think fit.” 1 W odrow observes
that it was with difficulty that some of their friends
got the council to pass this act in their favour.”
For this conventicle the magistrates of Edinburgh
were fined by the privy council in the sum of £50
sterling, according to the fifth act of the second
session, of the second parliament of CharlesIL, by
which act it is expressly provided and declared, that
“ magistrates of burghs are liable, for every conven-
ticle kept in their burghs, to such fines as the lords
of privy council shall think fit to impose.” 3
But the preacher, Mr. Hamilton, was most severely
dealt with. His close imprisonment and harsh
treatment so affected his health, that after some
weeks he became dangerously ill of cholera, and
though his friends presented a petition to the privy
council, praying that he might be allowed to go to
the country for the recovery of his health, and offered
to give bond under whatever penalty they chose for
his compearing, if his life should be spared, yet this
petition, notwithstanding its being accompanied with
the attestations of two physicians as to his extreme
danger, was not only rejected, but the council
assured his friends, that they intended to prosecute
him for house conventicles at their next meeting.
Before, however, the day of that meeting arrived, this
excellent young man died in prison; and thus he
may be said to have fallen a martyr to the free
preaching of the gospel; for the only charge they
could bring against him, was his delivering a sermon
to a few friends in the house of a relative, without
being licensed or authorized by a bishop, and his
death being caused by the inhuman manner in which
he was treated, the guilt of it may be as justly laid
upon the government, as if they had sentenced him
to be hanged at the Grassmarket.‘
The following anecdotes concerning Mrs. Durham,
may not be deemed unworthy of a place in this brief
sketch, as they serve both to illustrate her character
and principles. She was in the habit, it would
appear, of visiting such of her friends and others as
were imprisoned for their stedfast adherence to


Presbytery. Nor were her visits always confined to
those of whose sentiments on religious and ecclesias-
tical questions she could altogether approve. On
one occasion she went to prison to see some females
who belonged to the fanatical sect called “ The
Sweet Singers,” not because she approved of their
opinions and practices, but because she felt for them
as deluded persons, who had been driven to frenzy
by the violence of persecution. In this instance,
however, she was far from meeting with a cordial
reception. Law, when recording the imprisonment
of five men and ten women of this sect, who were
taken about Cather Moor of Borrowstounness, says,
“ These people were so deluded of Satan, as that they
did not work, contrary to that, 1 Thes. iv. 11; nor
would they eat any meat given them by the council,
nor drink anything that paid excise; and when
honest women, ministers’ wives, came to see them,
they began to rail upon them and upbraid them with
the name of Jezebel, and called them reprobates.
Mr. Durham’s wife, and Mr. William Cuthrie’s wife
were so upbraided.” 1 On visiting Mr. Robert
Baillie of J erviswood in prison, she met with a very
different character, and was both refreshed and
instructed by his heavenly spirit and christian con-
versation. “ When Mrs. Durham came to him that
morning before he got his sentence, he said he was
never better, and within a very little time he would
be well beyond conception. He said they are going
to send me in pieces and quarters through all the
country; but let them hagg and hew all my body in
as many pieces as they please, I am not much con-
cerned about that; for I know assuredly there shall
be nothing of me lost, but all these members shall
be wonderfully gathered, and shall all be made like
his glorious body, the body of his glory.” 2
Mrs. Durham was accustomed to attend not only
house conventicles, but also field meetings, which,
as the persecution advanced, became necessary, from
the vast multitudes who assembled to hear the
gospel. The acts of Parliament, and manifold pro-
clamations of the privy council, by which these
meetings were prohibited, did not frighten her from
being present at them; nor did the opprobrious
names of “unlawful conventicles,” “seminaries of
separation,” and “rendezvouses of rebellion,” applied
to them by the government, convince her that it
was criminal to assemble in the open air to hear the
glad tidings of salvation, when she remembered that
her Saviour, in the fields and on the mountain’s
brow, taught the multitudes who crowded around
him to receive the lessons of wisdom from his lips.

lDecreets of Privy Council.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 10.
3 Decreets of Privy Council, 15th May, 1679.
Q Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 54.
1 Law’s Memorials, pp. 185, 186.
2 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iii, p. '79.
G



50
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



The following anecdote, relating to her opinion of
some of the field preachers, has been preserved by
Wodrow z—“MLPatrick Simson,” says he,“ told me
that Mrs. Durham, when reading some sermons of
the high-fliers, and when hearing some of the more
violent of the field preachers, said that she observed
just such a difference between the field preachings
and those she was used to, as she did between the
apocrypha and the bible when she read them.”1
Mrs. Durham seemed to refer to such of the field
preachers as, more zealous than wise, broke forth in
their sermons into bitter invectives and uncharitable
censures against the indulged ministers. She also,
apparently, had an eye to the indigested and super-
ficial theology of their discourses. Theformerwas pro-
voked, though it could not be vindicated, from the pre-
text which the acceptance of the indulgence, by their
more compromising brethren, gave to the govern~
ment to persecute the non-indulged with aggravated
severity. The latter is best apologized for from the
little leisure they had for reading and study, in
consequence of their being constantly driven about
from place to place. It is not, however, alleged
that she pronounced an unfavourable judgment on
all the field preachers,——a sweeping sentence, which
could not have been supported by facts,—the most
of them being far from inclining to extremes, while
many of them, as Welsh, Blackadder, Riddell, and
others, preached the gospel with much acceptance,
as well as with remarkable success, including among
their hearers and converts not a few of the best
educated in the country.
Another anecdote, recorded by the same industri-
ous collector, concerning this lady and two minis-
ters, illustrates how galling and oppressive was the
yoke of arbitrary and prelatic domination to the
Presbyterians, and how ardently they longed for
deliverance. Writing, in 1731, Wodrow says, “ In
the year 1685 or 1686, Mr. Samuel Arnot died at
Edinburgh, after all the persecutions and sufferings
he had gone through since Pentland, in much peace
and joy. There was, generally, much company that
came and saw him on his death bed. Among others,
Mr. James Rowat, minister at Kilmarnock before
the Restoration, came to see him, and, among other
things, he asked Mr. Arnot if he had any hopes the
Church of Scotland would get out from mider this
dark cloud she had been under for twenty-five
years or thereby. The other answered he had, and
he was assured she would. ‘Yea,’ added he, ‘ I
know more, and that is, that you shall live to see
and partake of the church’s delivery.’ And so it


came to pass. Mr. Rowat lived till 1690, or an
year or two later, it may be, and saw that great
work of God at the Revolution. Amongst others
present when this was spoken, that good woman,
Mrs. Durham, relict of Mr. Zachary Boyd and Mr.
James Durham, was there, and she got up and said
to Mr. Rowat, ‘Mr. James, I am younger than you,
I hope I shall see the day of delivery as well as
you,’ and she danced and skipped for joy ; and so it
came about. I was at her burial, at Glasgow, about
the year 1692 or 1693.” ‘
Mas. JOHN CARSTAIRS, sister of the preceding, was
the eldest daughter of William Mure, Esq. of Glan-
derston, by his second wife, Jean Hamilton, a
daughter of Hans Hamilton, vicar of Dunlop, and
sister to Lord Viscount Claneboy. She was born
February 25, 1625. Enjoying, like Mrs. Durham,
the blessing of pious parents, she early devoted
herself to God; and, like her, she also inherited
from them a zealous attachment to Presbyterian
principles. She was married to Mr. John Carstairs
in 1647 or 161l8, when he had been just settled, or
when he was about to be settled minister of Cath-
cart, where, however, he did not long remain, having
been translated to the High Church of Glasgow in
1650. To her eminent christian character Mr.
Carstairs frequently bears testimony, many years
after they were united in marriage. In a letter to
her, dated November 25, 1662, he thus writes :—
“I desire to bless Him that ever He was pleased
to cast our lot to be together, and that he found you
out a help meet for me : you were never a tempta-
tion to me, nor an obstruction to me either in my
ministerial or christian course, though you have
been little furthered and much obstructed by me;
but He can make up out of the riches of his grace
to you what you have been now these fifteen years
at a loss in by me.” 2 And in another letter to
her, dated August 12, 1664:, he pronounces upon
her a still higher encomium :-—-“I desire to bless
the Lord for you ; you have been to me indeed a
meet and faithful help, and if I had more improved
your fellowship and counsel, your discreet and wise
counsel, I am not ashamed to say it to you, I might
have thriven better as a man, as a Christian, and
as a minister. He might very justly, for my sins,
deprive me of such a wife, such a mother, such a
friend, such a counsellor, yea, of all relations, sweetly
centred in such a one.” 3
In the correspondence between Mrs. Carstairs

1 Wodrow’s Analeeta, v01. i., p. 324.
1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iv., 1), 285.
= Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, ac, pp. 91, 9a 8 Ibid., p- 133.


MRS. JOHN
CARSTAIRS. 51



and her husband, after the persecution had com-
menced, we have a fine illustration of resolute ad-
herence to duty amidst great temptations and
dangers. Several of the letters which passed be-
tween them have come down to our day, and while
from these it is manifest that Mr. Carstairs was a
man of fortitude and magnanimity in the cause of
Christ, it is equally apparent from them that Mrs.
Carstairs was not inferior to her husband in these
virtues.
When he began to be molested for his Presbyterian
principles, Mr. Carstairs applied himself to the task of
fortifying her mind for those hardships and sufferings
which, without a direliction of duty, they could not
escape. On receiving a summons, on the 15th of No-
vember, 1662, to appear before the privy council, writ-
ing to her from Halleraig, on the very day on which
he received it, he thus speaks :—“1 hope, my dear,
you can bear, through the grace that hath often
strengthened you in difficulties that have occurred
about me since we came together, to hear without
vexation of mind, that I have this day got a charge
to compear before the council this same day fourteen
days, a double whereof I have sent you. It may be He
will pity me and help me. The cause is good, and
nothing at all disgraceful. O, to have a suitable
frame every way! pray for it, and for sinless and
inoffensive through-bearing. . . . Now, my heart, let
me beseech you to take courage in the Lord, who
hath given you a room in his heart, and will in due
time give you a room amongst them that stand by
the throne. Resolve to endure hardness as a good
soldier of Jesus Christ. WVe may see this storm
blow over, if kept faithful, and meet with higher
and holier things.” ‘ p
In like manner, when on his being summoned to
appear in April, 1664, before the high commission
court, for having been a witness to the dying testi-
mony in favour of Presbytery, which his brother-in-
law, Mr. James Wood, professor of divinity in the
college of St. Andrews, left behind him, he fled, to
escape the fury of Archbishop Sharp, which he had
thus provoked, and hid himself for some time in
Ireland and the west of Scotland, he thus encou-
rages her, in a letter written from the place of his
retreat, dated May 27, 1664 z-“If at this next
meeting [of the privy council] 2 some men shall be
cruel, and others shall disappoint us and prove vanity
and a lie, think it not strange, neither let it trouble
you. It’s like we will have trouble in the world; but


if we shall have peace in Him that hath overcome the
world, we have reason to be of good cheer. Let us
quietly and patiently wait for our sentence in these
courts from God, which though as from men it
should be unjust and cruel, yet as from God it will
be just, holy, and, I hope, good.” 1
The high christian sentiments expressed in these
extracts were not now for the first time presented
to the attention of Mrs. Carstairs. They had long
been familiar to her mind, and amidst the trials of
the past she had practically exemplified them. “It
does not a little satisfy and refresh me,” says Mr.
Carstairs in a letter to her, July 3, 1664‘, “that the
Lord is graciously pleased to keep your own mind
calm and quiet; and indeed it hath been his manner,
to the commendation of his grace be it spoken, to
bless you with somewhat of that mercy in most of
the difficulties you have been in Providence trysted
with since our being together—a mercy indeed, and
highly valuable, without which the least of difficul-
ties will easily embitter a very well accommodated
lot; nay, 'even the very apprehension of a difficulty.” 9
But having counted the cost of self-sacrifice, as well
as estimated the rich reward of present peace and
future glory, in becoming an humble follower of
Christ, she was prepared for the endurance of severer
trials than had hitherto been measured out to her;
and when they befel her she encountered them with
a high and holy heroism. On this subject let us
hear her speak for herself. In a letter she addressed
to Mr. Carstairs, without date, but evidently written
when he was forced to flee for his connection with
Mr. Wood’s dying testimony forPresbytery, we have a
fine illustration of the strength and fearlessness of
mind which true religion and a good cause are so
well fitted to impart. She would not have him
unnecessarily to expose himself to danger, but trusts
that should he fall into the hands of his persecutors,
grace would be given him to witness a good confes-
sion. She encourages him to bear with magnanimity
the inconveniences of his wandering from place to
place—to quit himself like a man and be strong;
and she thanks God for having united her to a hus-
band whom He counted worthy to suffer for His
name’s sake. The following is the letter in which
these noble sentiments are expressed :—
MY Dnxnnsr AND Mosr KIND Fmnmx—It was
refreshing to me to have a line from you, but it
troubled me to find you so heavy. He doeth well
who hath found it meet to put us in heaviness for a
season, finding that there was need of it. It did

1 Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, 8m, pp. 91, 92.
2 Mr. Carstairs, about the end of April, or the beginning of May,
had also been summoned to appear before the privy council.—
Wodrow’s History, "01. i., p. 412. .
1 Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, 8%., p. 120. 3 Ibid., p. 126.


52
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


wound me when I read that in yours—your not
being adverse to come here, which is thought by
your friends very unmeet and unreasonable; for
though you be very clear as to the cause, yet to cast
yourself in such eminent hazard is a wrong, and I
am persuaded you are not called to it, nay, you are
called to the contrary; so hide as well as you can,
and if it please the Lord so to order you be found
out, which I wish may not be, I hope he shall
glorify himself in you and carry you honourably
through. Put not yourself to it While [until] the
Lord bring you to it. I hope my request, which is
so reasonable, shall prevail with you. My dear,
weary not in wandering; it hath been the lot of
many of his worthies to wander in caves and dens of
the earth; and although your accommodation should
be very bad, so that you cannot go about duties as
you would, he counts your wandering better service
to him than your preaching. My dear, a little while
will put an end to all our troubles '; as for myself, 1
had reason always to bless the Lord that ever I knew
you, and this day I desire to bless him more than
ever, that ever 1 was so nearly related to you, and
that 1 have a husband wandering and suffering for
the truth. Let us both bless him together for this.
He might have given me one that was persecuting
the truth. The Lord strengthen and confirm you!
That commodity you desired cannot be gotten for
the present, though they be most willing to give it.
i hope the Lord shall provide another way; the
dearer will show you all other things. The Lord’s
blessing and protection be with you! and may He
be near your soul with the consolations of his Spirit!
-Farewell, my dear, 1 am your own, J. C.” 1
As a farther illustration of the heroic spirit which
animated this lady, we may give another of her let-
ters to Mr. Carstairs, which is without date, but
which, as may be inferred from the allusion in the
commencement, was written in the autumn of the
year 1667, after he had been denounced a rebel and
outlawed. It is as follows :—
“ MY DEAREST ERIEND,—The bearer will show
you how all matters here go. The west country
gentlemen and ministers, who were declared rebels,
are now forfaulted.2 I bless the Lord it nothing


troubles me. A smile from God, and the lifting up
the light of his countenance, can make up, and even
doth make up, all the injuries men can do, so that
‘the lines are fallen to me in a most pleasant place,
and I have a goodly heritage.’ I think my lot very
far above the lot of my adversaries! Blessed be
God, who made the difference ; there being no cause,
but even so because it pleased him. My dear, let
us willingly cleave to him, and suffer for him. We
owe him much. How much are we in his debt, who
hath added this mercy to all the former mercies,
that he has counted us worthy to suffer [for] his
name’s sake? O for grace to be stedfast to the
end, and that he would graciously pardon our un-
faithfulness to him and to his cause and people!
Alas! Zion’s condition lieth not near my heart as
it should. J. C.” ‘
Mrs. Carstairs had issue by her husband three sons
and four daughters. Her son William, who became
principal of the university of Edinburgh after the
Revolution, was one of the most remarkable men of
his day, and from his great influence with King
William, whom he had attended in all his campaigns,
was called at court Cardinal Carstairs. None of
her children had offspring with the exception of her
daughters Jean and Sarah, who have numerous
descendants. Jean married Principal Drew of St.
Lconard’s College, St. Andrews, and from her Prin-
cipals M‘Cormick and Hill derived descent. Sarah,
the fourth daughter, and the youngest of the family,
married her cousin-german, William Dunlop,2 prin-
cipal of Glasgow College; and from her, besides other
eminent men, are descended the present Alexander
Dunlop, Esq, advocate, and the Right Honourable
David Boyle, Lord President'of the Court of Ses-
sion. “ It is somewhat singular how completely
the descendants of Carstairs are mixed, so far as the
distinctions of church politics are concerned; and it
cannot but draw forth a smile from any one versant

1 Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, &c., p. 157.
2 The reference here is to a few country gentlemen in Renfrew-
shire, who had raised a small body of horse, to the number of
about fifty, with the design of joining the Covenanters under Colonel
Wallace, previous to their defeat at Pentland Hills; but who, on
learning that Dalziel was between them and their friends, dispersed.
Among these gentlemen were two of Mrs. Carstairs’ sisters’ husbands,
the Laird of Balston and Porterfield of Quarrelton. The ministers
in this company, besides Mr. Carstairs, were Mr. Gabriel Maxwell,
minister at Dundonald, and Mr. George Ramsay, minister at Kil-
maurs. The greater number of these gentlemen, as well as many
other individuals, and all these ministers, except Mr. Ramsay,
together with several other ministers, were, by proclamation, de-
clared rebels, on the 4th of December, 1666. On their being after-
wards pursued by Sir John Nisbet, his Majesty’s advocate, before
the J usticiary Court, for treason, that court, on the 15th of August,
1667, upon their not compearing, deeerned them “ to be denounced
rebels, and their lands to fall to his majesty’s use, as outlaws and
fugitives from his majesty’s laws ;” and some of the gentlemen,
though none of the ministers, were, on the 16th of that month, for-
feited, in their absence, in life and fortuna—Wodrow’s History,
vol. ii., pp. 28, 36, 66, 67, 73-75.
1 Letters of Mr. John Carstairs, &c., p. 160. See another of Mrs.
Carstairs’ Letters in Appendix, no. iv.
3 Her aunt, Elizabeth Mure, her mother’s sister, was, as we have
said before, married to Mr. Alexander Dunlop, minister of Paisley,
who was the Principal’s father.



DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
53


in these matters in the present day, to observe, on
the same genealogical table, and in very close juxta-
position, the names of Dr. George Cook, professor
of moral philosophy, St. Andrews, and Mr. Alexander
Dunlop, advocate, Edinburgh. Surely none would
have thought, at least from their proceedings in

church courts, that these two distinguished and
opposite leaders of the church were pears of the
same tree.” 1

1 Life of Mr. John Carstairs, prefixed to his Letters, by the Rev-
William Ferrie, p. 9.

LADY ANNE, DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
LADY ANNE, Ducnnss or HAMILTON, was descended
from an ancient and honourable family, which origi-
nally came from Normandy,‘ and which at one time
was for fifty years together presumptive heir to the
crown of Scotland. From the year 1543, when King
James V. died, leaving his only daughter, Queen
Mary, but a few days old, till the year 1593, when
Prince Henry was born, there were only Queen
Mary and her son, King James, of the royal blood ;
and, in the event of their death, the crown would
have fallen by right to the then representative of the
house of Hamilton, who was their nearest kinsman. 2
Lady Anne was born in the year 1630. Her father,
James, third Marquis and first Duke of Hamilton, 3
a distinguished man in his day, espoused with ardent
zeal the cause of Charles I., in which, however, he
was actuated more by personal attachment to Charles
than by a sincere desire to establish prelacy, or to
elevate the royal prerogative. He was his Majesty’s
high commissioner to the famous General Assembly,
which met at Glasgow in 1638, and be dissolved it
abruptly; but the dissolution was disregarded, and
the Assembly continued to sit till they abolished
prelacy. In the subsequent year he was sent down,
by the king’s orders, to Scotland, with a fleet and
three regiments, to subdue the Covenanters, and
appeared in the Firth of Forth. It was on this
occasion that his mother, the Marchioness Dowager
of Hamilton, headed a troop of horse on the shores
of Leith to oppose his landing 4 In 1648, an army
being raised in Scotland with the design of rescuing


Charles from the English Parliament, and restoring
him to liberty and power, without his being required
to make any concessions to his subjects, the duke
was appointed by the Parliament commander-in-
chief, and entered England in July 1648. But the
enterprize, which is usually called “The Engage-
ment,” proving unsuccessful, ultimately brought
him to the block. ‘
The mother of the subject of this sketch was
Lady Mary Fielding, daughter of William, Earl of
Denbigh, and Lady Susanna Villiers, sister to the
Duke of Buckingham. This lady was married to her
father when he was only in the fourteenth year of
his age. “Her person,” says Burnet', “ was noble
and graceful, like the handsome race of the Villiers;
but, to such as knew her well, the virtues of her
mind were far more shining. She was educated from
a child in the court, and esteemed and honoured by
all in it.... ...She was lady of the queen’s bed-cham-
ber, and admitted by her majesty into an entire con-
tidence and friendship; and not only was her honour
unstained, but even her fame continued untouched
with calumny, she being so strict lo the severest
rules as never to admit of those follies which pass
in that style for gallantry.” But her crowning
excellence was her genuine piety. Though living
in a court, she allowed no day to pass over her in
which she did not spend large portions of her time
in devotional exercises in her closet. She had to
the marquis first three daughters, Mary, Anne, and
Susanna; and then three sons, Charles, James, and
William; but all her sons and her eldest daughter
died young. A year before her death she was in a
languishing condition, and at last fell into a con-
sumption, which, after a few months’ sickness, carried
her off. About a month previous to the great change,
calling for her children, she gave them her last bles-
sing and embraces, and ordered that they might not
be brought near her again, lest the sight of them

‘ Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i., p. 689.
2 Burnet’s Preface to his Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton.
3 He was created Duke of Hamilton, Marquis of Clydesdale, Earl
of Arran and Cambridge, Lord Avon and Innerdale, by patent, dated
at Oxford, 12th April, 1643, to him and the heirs male of his body,
which failing, to his brother and the heirs male of his body, which
failing, to the eldest heir female of the Marquis’s body, without divi-
sion, and the heirs male of the body of such heir female, they bearing
the name and arms of Hamilton, which all failing, to the nearest
legitimate heir whatsoever of the Marquis.-—Douglas’s Peerage of
Scotland, vol. 1., p. 704.
‘ See p. 5.
1 Douglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i., p. 704, 705.


54
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


should kindle too much tenderness in her mind,
which she was then studying to raise above all
created objects, and to fix upon the things of eter-
nity. She died on the 10th of May, 1638. 1
Thus Lady Anne, in the eighth year of her age,
was bereaved of a valuable mother, from whose
instructions and example, her opening mind, as may
reasonably be supposed, might have derived the
greatest advantage. Her religious education does
not, however, appear to have been neglected. Her
father, who had been trained up by a pious mother,
and who, there is reason to hope, notwithstanding
the errors of his public life, into which he was
betrayed by his warm loyalty and ardent ambition,
had not ceased to make religion a matter of personal
concern, always recommended to her the fear and
love of God, as that in which he himself had found
his only joy and repose. The following words are a
part of one of his letters to her and her sister, Lady
Susanna, which he wrote a little before his going to
England on the fatal enterprize of the Engagement :
“ In all crosses even of the highest nature, there is
no other remedy but patience, and with alacrity to
submit to the good will and pleasure of our glorious
Creator, and be contented therewith, which I advise
you to learn in your tender age, having enjoyed that
blessing myself, and found great comfort in it while
involved in the midst of infinite dangers.” 2
When only a child, she was promised in marriage
to Lord Lorn, eldest son of the Marquis of Argyll,
who suffered in 1661. About the eleventh year of
her age, in 1641 or 1642, a contract of marriage was
agreed to betwixt her father on her part, and the
Marquis of Argyll on the part of his son, Lord Lorn,
to be celebrated when the two children should be of
age. The marriage portion is a hundred thousand
merks, the yearly jointure fifteen thousand merks,
and the penalty to him who resiled thirty-six thou-
sand merks, all remedy of law excluded? These
two noblemen were then, and had been for a consi-
derable time before, on terms of very intimate friend-
ship, but shortly after this contract was signed, “their
sweetest wine became their sourest vinegar;”4for
they fell out and assumed positions of mutual hos-
tility. Hamilton supported Charles: Argyll, chang-
ing his opinions, became the uncompromising cham-
pion of the Covenanters. Two great parties thus
came to be formed in the nation, of which these two
noblemen were the respective heads; the one called
the Hamiltons, the other, the Campbells; and the



Engagement was the great point upon which they
were divided. In consequence of these differences,
the contemplated marriage between Lady Anne and
Lord Lorn never took place.1
In times of civil commotion like those which then
passed over Scotland and England, the leaders of
the contending parties are peculiarly exposed to the
risk of falling a sacrifice to the fury of one another;
and Lady Anne was doomed to undergo the trial of
seeing her father, upon the disastrous issue of the
Engagement, condemned to suffer a violent death.
His forces being routed by the English at Preston,
. on the 20th of August, he surrendered himself to
Lambert, at Uttoxeter, on the 25th of that month,
and was imprisoned at Windsor. He succeeded in
| . . . _
‘ making lns escape, but was retaken 1n Southwark,


and committed to prison at St. J ames’s. While he
lay there, urgent applications were made to the
Marquis of Argyll, who had then the chief power in
Scotland, that the Committee of Estates would, as a
means of saving at least his life, own that what he
i did was by the authority of that kingdom ; but Argyll
declined to interfere. Lady Anne herself left no
means untried to prevail with him to interpose for
the life of her father; but her exertions were with-
out effect; for, he said, that since the English had
murdered their king, notwithstanding the protest of -
the Scottish commissioners against the deed. it was
1 not to be expected that the interposition of the most
influential in Scotland in other things would be of
any weight; nor was it fit they should any more
address the murderers of their sovereign.
On the 6th of February, 1649, her father was
brought to trial before the same court which had
condemned Charles to the block, and on the 6th of
March he was sentenced to be beheaded on Friday,
the 9th of that month. In terms of the sentence,
he was executed in Palace Yard, Westminster, in
the 43d year of his age. He died in a very pious
manner, and with much fortitude. Having delivered
his last speech on the scaffold, he uttered a most
fervent prayer, concluding with these words, “ O
glorious God! 0 blessed Father! O holy Redeemer!
O gracious Comforter ! O holy and blessed Trinity ! __
I do render up my soul into thy hands, and commit
it to the mediation of my Redeemer, praising thee
' for all thy dispensations, that it hath pleased thee
to confer upon me, and even for this. Praise and
honour, and thanks be to thee from this time forth,
and for evermore! ” After some religious discourse
with Dr. Sibbald, whom he chose as his chaplain,
on the scaffold, and who exhorted him to look to the

1 Burnet’s Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, p. 407.
2 Ibid., p. 4.04.‘.
3 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 202.
4 Scot of Scotstarvet’s Staggering State of Scots Statesmen.
1 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, pp. 178, 192, 198. Burnet's Memoirs
of the Dukes of Hamilton, p. 204.



DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
55


fountain of the blood of Christ as his only hope, he
embraced his servants who were present, commend-
ing their fidelity to him, and praying the Lord to
bless them. He then turned to the executioner and
told him he was to engage shortly in prayer while
he lay with his head on the block, after which he
should give him a sign, by stretching out his right
hand, telling him, at the same time, that he freely
forgave him, as he did all the world. Upon the
giving of the sign, the executioner at one blow
severed the head of the unfortunate nobleman from
his body, which was received in a crimson-taffety
scarf, by two of his servants kneeling by him, and
was, together with his body, immediately put in a
coffin, which was ready on the scaffold, and, according
to his orders, sent down by sea to Scotland, and
interred in his family burial place at Hamilton.1
To Lady Anne, who was now in the 19th year of
her age, and to her sister, Susanna, who was some-
what younger, this was a great affliction. The loss
of a father who loved them with an almost unequalled
parental tenderness, and to whom they reeiprocated
the tenderest filial affection, was calculated, consi-
dered in all its distressing circumstances, to lacerate
their feelings in the most painful manner; and the
more especially at their green age, when the feelings
were most tender, and when, consequently, the be-
reavement would pierce the heart with the intensest
agony. It was happy for them that in their uncle,
Duke IVilliam,2 who was distinguished for his per-
sonal piety, as well as for his accurate views of divine
truth, they found a relative both affectionately dis-
posed, and well qualified to administer to them the
religious comfort they needed, and to take the place
of their father in caring for them. Lady Anne, who
had already given evidence of the pious temper of
her mind, sought under this dispensation consolation
in religion; and, by divine grace, she was enabled
to exercise that Christian resignation and submission
to the will of God, which is our bounden duty under
the greatest trials of life.
The last memorial she and her sister received of
their father’s affection for them, was a letter which
he wrote to them on the day of his execution, but
which would not come to their hands till he had
passed from time into eternity. It is as follows :—
“Mr MOST DEAR CHILDREN,—It hath pleased
God to dispose of me, as I am immediately to part
with this miserable life for a better; so that I can-
not take that care of you which I both ought and


would, if it had pleased my gracious Creator to have
given me longer days : but his will be done, and I
with alacrity submit to it, desiring you to do so,
and that above all things you apply your hearts to
seek him, to fear, serve, and love him; and, then,
doubt not but he will be a loving father to you
while you are on earth, and thereafter crown you
with eternal happiness. Time will permit me to say
no more, so the Lord bless, guide, and preserve you,
which is the prayer of your most loving father,
“ HAMILTON.
“ St. James’s, 9th March, 1M9.
“Let this remember me to my dear sisters,
brothers, and other friends, for it is all I write.” ‘
On the day preceding his execution, he had writ-
ten a letter to his brother "William, requesting him
to be a father to his two daughters, that they might
not be forced to marry against their wills. Nor did
Duke William fail in the duty he owed to these
orphans. “He entailed his friendship for him,”
[his brother,] says Burnet, “ on his daughters, who
have desired me to acknowledge to the world that
in him they met with the tenderness of a father, the
kindness of a friend, and every thing that was gener-
ously noble and obliging.” So high was the opinion
he formed of Lady Anne that, at his going to Eng-
land, he professed he was glad he had no sons to lie
in her way to the enjoyment of her father’s estates
and honours, adding, that if he had forty sons, he
rather wished it to her than he could do to any of
them. On his part, nothing was wanting to pro-
mote her happiness : whatever his estates could pro-
cure was at her command, and the authority with
which he invested her at so early an age, indicates
the confidence he placed in her judgment and dis-
cretion. Writing to her from Camphcer, 10th June,
1649, he says, “ Dear Niece,—Amongst all my just
afflictions, there is none lies so heavy upon me as
that I am still made incapable of paying that duty
to you which I owe you. It is the greatest debt I
owe on earth, and which would most joy me to
pay, as well from inclination as from nature and
obligations; but all happiness being denied me, I
cannot hope for that which would be the greatest.
Before this I hope you are settled in Hamilton,
where you have, as is most just, the same power
your father had, and I beseech you to‘ dispose as
absolutely upon every thing that is there. All I
have interest in, so long as they will acknowledge

1 Burnet’s Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, pp. 401-405.
2 Their father was succeeded in his titles and estates, in terms of
the patent, by his brother William.
' me, will obey you; and I shall earnestly beg, that,
l Burnet’s Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, p. 397.


56
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




if there be any failings, (either from persons, or in
providing what you shall think fit to call for, which
the fortune can procure,) you advertise me thereof,
and if it be not helped, (so my fortune can do it,)
let me be as infamous as I am unfortunate. I will
trouble you no longer, but pray the Lord to bless
you with comfort and health—Dear Niece, your
real servant, “ HAMILTON.” 1
As a farther proof of his esteem and affection for her,
be nominated and appointed her (failing heirs male
of his own body) his sole executrix, in his last will,
written by himself, at the Hague, in Holland, on the
28th day of May, 1650, and freely bequeathed to
her “ all his jewels, silver plate, hangings, picture
broads, and whatsoever goods were his to be dis-
posed of.” And after nominating and appointing,
in the event of her removal by death before himself,
her sister, Susanna, his sole executrix, and freely
bequeathing to her the foresaid articles, he recom-
mends the care of his five daughters to such of
his nieces as should succeed to his dignity and
estate, expressing his confidence that they would
be careful of their education and faithful in paying
them what had been provided for them.2
We shall quote at length another of the letters of
this amiable man to Lady Anne, both because it
affords a pleasing illustration of his own christian
character, and because, from its tone, it is evident
that she had then been brought, in good earnest,
to attend to the things of God and eternity. The
letter was written only eight days after the terrible
defeat and slaughter which the Scottish royalists
sustained, on Sabbath, July 20, 1651, at Inver-
keithing in Fife, from the English parliamentary
army under Cromwell.3 This disaster greatly discou-
raged the royalists ; and what rendered their condi-
tion still more desperate was, that Cromwell was
now betwixt the king and the northern counties of
Scotland, which were most devoted to the king’s
interest, and from which he expected provisions and
supplies of men. It being thus impossible to main-
tain the war longer in Scotland, his majesty resolved
to march into England, where he hoped for large
additional forces. But many of his soldiers, and
some of his officers, broken in spirit by their late
defeat, and despairing of future success, deserted


the army. It was in these circumstances, and when
about to march into England, that Duke William
wrote the following letter :— 1
“DEAR N1EoE,—-Indeed I know not what to
say to you; I would fain say something more encou-
raging than my last was, but I cannot lie; our con-
dition is no better, and since that time we have a
thousand men (I fear twice that number) run from
our army. Since the enemy shuns fighting with us,
except upon advantage, we must either starve, dis-
band, or go with a handful of men into England.
This last seems to be the least ill, yet it appears
very desperate to me, for more reasons than I would
trouble you with : I fear your own reason will afford
you too many. Dear niece, it is not your courage
I will desire you to make use of in this extremity ;
look for strength to bear it from a higher power; all
your natural virtues will not resist it; therefore,
look to Him who hath in former times assisted you
to resist a great affliction, and can do it again, if
you seek to him aright ; you have already lost so
much, that all other worldly losses were drowned
in that. Those you meet with now are christian
exercises, wherewith, ofttimes, the Lord visits his
own, to wean their affections from things here
below, that we may place them upon himself, in
whom we have all things; and if we could, as we
ought, set our hearts upon him, we should find our
selves very little concerned in most things which
bring us greatest trouble here on earth, where we
are but for a minute in our way to eternity. O!
consider that word ETERNITY, and you will find we
struggle here for that, that’s even less than nothing;
why trouble we ourselves for earthly losses? for
when we have lost all we have, there are thousands
as dear to God as we, as poor as we. We are rich
though we lose the whole world if we gain him:
let us set before our eyes the example of those,
who, to give testimony to the truth, rejoiced to lay
down their lives; nay, let us, with humble pre-
sumption, follow the pattern of our blessed Saviour,
who for our sakes suffered more than man can think
on, the burden of all our sins, and the wrath of his
Father : and shall we then repine to lay down our
lives for him when he calls for it from us, to give
us a nearer admittance to Him than we can hope for
while we are clogged with our clay tenements.
Dear niece, I should never be weary to talk with
you, though this be a subject, I confess, I cannot
speak of well; but even that happiness is bereft me,
by the importunity of a crowd of persons that are

1 Burnet’s Memolrs of the Dukes of Hamilton.
2 Commissariot of Edinburgh, 28th September, 1652, MS. in her
Mnjest-y’s Register House, Edinburgh. In that Record, the will of
the Duke is recorded at length. It is a very interesting document,
from the remarkably pious spirit which it breathes throughout.
8 So prodigious was the slaughter, that a rill, at the scene of action,
called Pinkerton Burn, is said to have run red with blood for three
days
1 Burnet’s Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, p. 426.


DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
57




.__
now in the room with me, grudging the time I take
in telling you that while I am, I am yours, 850.
II“ Hammon]
“ Stirling, 28th July, 1651.” 1
Duke lVilliam, having proceeded to England and
engaged in battle with Cromwell’s forces at Wor-
eester, was mortally wounded. After receiving the
wound, and feeling that his end was approaching, he

wrote to his lady a letter, which contains the follow-
ing reference to Lady Anne and her sister :—“I‘
will not so much as in a letter divide my dear nieces
The Lord grant you may be eonstantl
and you.
comforts to one another in this life, and give you all
gratitude to her affectionate domestic by the sub-
stantial gift of a piece of land, near Lesmahago, suf-
ficient to maintain her in ease and comfort all the
rest of her life.” 1
During Cromwell’s administration she resided
alternately at Brodwich castle in Arran, and Strath-
aven castle, which was from an early period one of
the seats of the Hamilton family.2 The castle of
Strathaven, or Avondale, stands upon a rocky emi-
, nence at the town of Strathaveu, on the banks of a
l
l
l
eternal happiness with your Saviour in the life to i
come ! To both of your cares I recommend my poor I
children. Let your great work be to make them
early acquainted with God, and their duties to him ;
and though they may suffer many wants here before
removal from hence, yet they will find an inexhaus-
tible treasure in the love of Christ.”
This nobleman died 011 the 12th of the month on
which the above letter is dated, nine days after he had
received the wound, in the 35th year of his age, and
was interred in the cathedral church of 'Worcester. 9
After her uncle’s death, Lady Anne, who succeeded
him in his titles and estates, experienced the vicissi-
tudes of fortune to which many of the Scottish nobi-
lity were subjected for their opposition to Cromwell,
who had now laid Scotland prostrate at his feet.
Her father was excepted from the benefit of Crom-
well’s act of grace and pardon in 165;}, and his
estates were forfeited, £400 a-year being reserved
out of them to Lady Anne, and £200 a-year to her
sister.8 This was no doubt sufiicient to secure them
from privat-ion; but for a family to be thus reduced

which once possessed ample revenues, and was at
one time presumptive heir to the Scottish throne,
afforded a striking instance of the mutability of
worldly wealth and greatness. Whether even this
sum was regularly paid we do not know; but it is affirmed by tradition that, for a series of years“
she was in so impoverished a condition as to have been dependent upon a faithful female servant,—the
only one that remained with hen—who employed
herself incessantly in spinning to procure the means P
of subsistence for her Grace.4 It is pleasing, on the
same authority, to record that, when the Restoration ’
put an end to the misfortunes of the duchess byl
re-investing her with her estates, she “ expressed her


Strathaven Castle.
small rivulet called Pomilion, which winds round the
; greater part of it, and falls into the Avon about
a mile below. Though now in a very dilapidated
state, it was then in good condition and a place of
considerable strength, being surrounded by a strong
wall, with turrets at certain distances, and having
the entrance secured by a drawbridge. A tradition
is still current in Clydesdale respecting the duchess,
while she resided in this castle in the time of Crom-
well, which places her fortitude in adversity in a
very interesting light, and reminds us of the fearless
spirit of her grandmother. To the hero of the Com-

1 Burnet’s Memoirs of the Dukes of Hamilton, p. 426.
2 Andersou’s Memoirs of the House of Hamilton, p. 145.
3 l>ouglas’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i., p. 706.
‘ Tradition, in this instance, has probably to some extent exagge-
rated the facts of the case.
1 Chambers’ Picture of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 349, 350. v
2 It is said to have been built by Andrew Stewart, grandson of
Murdoch, Duke of Albany.—l\'ew Statistical Account of Scotland,
Lanarkshire, Avondale.
H


‘.38
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




monwealth, whose vengeance was directed against
her family on account of that determined opposition
to him which had issued fatally both as to her father
and uncle, she had, as might be anticipated, no
friendly feelings; and it is said that when one of
his generals passed the castle with some military
going from Hamilton to Ayrshire, she gave orders
to fire upon him as he approached the town of
Strathaven. The general inquired who lived there,
and being told it was a lady, he replied, “ She must
be a bold woman indeed.”l In the days of her
adversity, her tenants and vassals in that neighbour-
hood showed to her ardent friendship and attach-
ment. This she never forgot, when favoured With
more prosperous days ; and she made an annual visit
to Strathaven at the celebration of the Lord’s Supper,
till she was prevented by the infirmities of old age. 2
In the year 1656, she was married to Lord I/Vil-
liam Douglas, eldest son of William, first Marquis
of Douglas. He was born 24th December, 1634,
and created Earl of Selkirk, Lord Daer and Short-
cleuch, by patent, dated 4th August, 1646, to him
and his males heir whatsoever. He was fined £1000
by Cromwell’s act of grace and pardon, 1654. The
minutes of a contract of marriage between the
duchess and this nobleman, with consent of his
father, the Marquis of Douglas, dated 1656, are still
preserved among the Hamilton Papers.3 After the
Restoration, in consequence of a petition from the
duchess, he had, by letters patent, on the 20th of
September, 1660, superadded to his own honours
the title and precedency of the Duke of Hamilton,
and other titles, in right of his wife, on whom these
honours had devolved.4
As might naturally be expected, the duchess hailed
the restoration of Charles II. with satisfaction and
joy; for it put her in possession of her father’s
estates and honours, of which she had been deprived
by Cromwell. But the policy of the government of
Charles in overthrowing the Presbyterian Church of
Scotland, and in ejecting the nonconforming minis-
ters from their churches, she contemplated with dif-
ferent feelings. This measure she perceived to be at


once unwise in principle, and destructive in tendency.
The duke, her husband, at a meeting of the Scottish
council, held at London after the Restoration, to
determine as to the ecclesiastical government to be
established in Scotland, reasoned against the setting
up of bishops.1 He also opposed in the privy
council, the act which they passed at Glasgow,
October 1, 1662, requiring all ministers who had
not conformed to prelacy, to desist from preaching,
and to withdraw immediately from their parishes.
He told the council that the numerous ministers
liable to ejectment, were highly esteemed and be-
loved by their people ; and that it would be impos-
sible to find a competent number of well qualified
men to fill their places.2 The duchess was precisely
of the same sentiments. She may not have studied,
and Bishop Burnet informs us that she told him she
had not studied, the subject of church government,
and arrived at the same enlightened and thorough
conviction of the jZlS dim'mmz of Presbytery, to which
she had arrived on other points. But she saw that
the ministers to be visited by ejectment were men
of distinguished piety, of great diligence in the dis-
charge of their ministerial duties, and of extensive
usefulness in promoting religion and good order
among the people. Not to speak, then, of her lean-
ing to the side of the Presbyterian faith, which is
manifest from her adhering to, and favouring it
during her whole life, through evil report as well as
good report; as a woman of piety, and a friend of
public order, she regretted the ejectment of such men
as the infliction of a great calamity on the country.3
The duchess, who had much influence upon the
duke, greatly contributed, there is little doubt, to
infuse into his mind favourable feelings towards the
Covenanters, and to dispose him to make exertions
for mitigating‘ the oppressions under which they
groaned. Such feelings he entertained, and such
exertions he made. After the Restoration, he op-
posed, as we have seen, the setting up of bishops,
and the act of Glasgow, by which some hundreds of
ministers were ejected from their charges. During
the persecution, he often acted as a drag chain
upon the more violent of the members of the privy
council, advocating a moderate and pacific policy,
and opposing the terrible measures which were
madly adopted against religion and liberty by the
ruling party. In the parliament of 167 3, be dis-
tinguished himself by his opposition to Lauderdale,
whose rapacity, tyranny, and oppression were be-
come intolerable, demanding that the state of the

1 Anderson’s Memoirs of the House of Hamilton, p. 150. After
the death of the duchess in 1716, the castle of Strathaven was
allowed to fall into disrepair; and, as Chambers says, it now “ over-
hangs the town of Strathaven, with its shattered and haggard walls,
like the spirit of Fingal represented by Ossian, as looking down from
the clouds upon his living descendants.”—Picture of Scotland, v01. 1.,
p. 349. “Though now in ruins, the castle is still a beautiful feature
in our landscape.”-—New Statistical Account of Scotland, Lanark-
shire, Avondalc.
2 Anderson’s Memoirs of the House of Hamilton, p. 150.
3 Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany of the
Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 202. '
4 Ibid., vol. iv., p. 172.
1 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 390.
3 Burnet’s History of His Own Times, vol. i., p. 261.
8 Ibid., vol. i., p. 480.



DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
59


nation should be examined, and its grievances repre-
sented to the king, before the supplies were granted.
On repairing to court towards the end of November,
1675, he earnestly dealt with the king for a more
ample indulgence to the nonconforming ministers,
by which he greatly displeased his majesty, who
told him he had been informed of his too great
kindness to, and compliance with, the nonconformists
of Scotland.1 In 167 6, he was removed from his
place in the privy council, for his manly and spirited
opposition to the oppressive sentence of the council
against the pious and patriotic Baillie of Jerviswood,
who, for simply rescuing his brother-in-law, Mr.
James Kirkton, from Captain Carstairs, was fined
£500 sterling, and ordained to lie in prison till the
fine was paid? He was also prohibited to leave
Scotland, but, notwithstanding this prohibition, he
and thirteen others went up to court in March, 1678,
to complain of the arbitrary and oppressive adminis-
tration of Lauderdale in regard to the Highland host,
the imposition of the bond, the charging them with
law-borrows, and the other grievances under which
the country laboured. On the breaking out of the
insurrection in Scotland in May, 167 9, he and the
other Scottish lords of his party, then in London,
ofifered,—an offer which was rejected, -to restore
peace to the country without having recourse to
force or the effusion of blood, provided the suffer-
ings of the people were alleviated.8 To these notices
other facts of a similar kind, equally favourable to
the patriotism and humanity of the duke, might be
added. But we shall only farther state, that when
some were tortured in 1684:, in reference to the
Earl of Argyll’s conspiracy, he opposed such cruel
proceedings, alleging, that, at this rate, they might,
without accusers or witnesses, take any person off
the street and torture him ; and he immediately
retired, refusing to be present, on the ground, that
if the party should die in the torture, the judges
were liable for murder, or at least severely culpable.‘

Nor was the Duchess of Hamilton alone, among
ladies of high life, in moderating the persecution by the influence they exerted over those most nearly .
related to them. The ladies and other female rela- .
tives of several others of the members of his Majesty’s '
government were friendly to the persecuted cause ; and by their influence, as well as by the deference ;
shown to their predileetions, individuals were often

1 Burnet’s History of His Own Times, "01. i., p. 565. Descriptive
Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany of the Maitland
Club, vol. iv., p. 178.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., 327.
3 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. 1., p. 708.
4 Fountainhall’s Notes, p. 103. See also Macaulay’s History of

England, vol. 11., pp. 118, 119, 121, 122.
exempted from the hardships into which they would
otherwise have been brought, while the violence of
the persecution was sometimes considerably miti-
gated. Of this class were the first wife of the Duke
of Lauderdale,1 the Duchess of Rothes,Q both the
first and the second wives of the Earl of Argyll,3 the
Countess of Dundonald and others.“L
After the Restoration, Hamilton Palace, which is
situated in a valley between the town of Hamilton
and the Clyde, was the chief place of the residence
of the duchess. Since the time she dwelt in that
princely mansion, its aspect has very much changed.
Great additions, in the best architectural style, were
made to it in the year 1826, and, as a whole, it is
now considered the most magnificent residence in
Scotland, being extremely splendid in its interior,
and having a picture gallery peculiarly rich in paint-
ings by the greatest Italian masters. In the time
of the duehess, it was a large building of moderate
external elegance.
The town of Hamilton being in the vicinity of her
place of residence, she at all times made the welfare,
both temporal and spiritual, of the inhabitants of
that town and parish the object of her special con-
cern. As an instance of her desire to promote their
spiritual good, as well as of her pious care for the
sanctity of the Sabbath, it may be mentioned that,
in co-operation with the duke her husband, and the
baillies of Hamilton, she obtained, in 1661, an act of
parliament changing the fairs of Hamilton from
Saturday to Thursday, and its weekly markets from
Saturday to Friday. The reason inducing the par-
ties to apply for this act was, as is stated in the act
itself, their “ observing the daily inconveniences
arising through the weekly market being upon the
Saturday, whereby the people resorting to it were
much occasioned in their return homewards to be
late in the night, and sometime to encroach upon
the Lord’s day next ensuing, and so scandalous to
God’s worship therein.” 5

1 Lady Anne Home, second daughter of Alexander, first Earl of
Home. She was a great means of softening the spirit of Lauderdale,
who during her lifetime was more moderate than after her death.
From Sir George Mackenzie’s Memoirs of Affairs in Scotland, we
learn that she promised to procure indulgences for Welsh and the
other Presbyterian ministers—Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. .244.
She died at Paris about 1671.
2 Lady Anne Lindsay, daughter of the Earl of Crawford and
Lindsay. A notice of this Lady is given afterwards.
3 His first wife was Lady Mary Stuart, eldest daughter of James,
fifth Earl of Moray. She died in May, 1668. His second wife was
Lady Anne M‘Kenzie, second daughter of Colin, first Earl of Sea-
forth, and relict of Alexander, first Earl of Balcarres. A sketch of
this Lady also is given afterwards.
4 This Lady was Euphemia, daughter of Sir William Scot of Ardross.
She attended field conventicles, and entertained the field preachers
at her palace at Paisley.—Blackadder’s Memoirs, MS. copy in Adv.
Library.
5 Acts of Scottish Parliament.


60
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


i
To her zeal for the temporal good of the town of
Hamilton, ample testimony is borne by the town
council records. In 1668, Charles II. granted a
charter to her, and in 1670 the magistrates then in
oflice accepted a charter from her, with consent of
her husband, by which Hamilton was constituted
the chief burgh of the regality and dukedom of
Hamilton.1 And “during the course of her long
life she was a benefactor to the town of Hamilton,
as she endeavoured to ameliorate the condition of
the inhabitants, and always acted strictly in confor-
mity to the charter.
council seem at all times to have looked up to her
with a kind of filial respect, and were always ready
to comply with her requests, which indeed were never
incompatible with the interests of the community.” 2
During the persecution, applications were often
made to her to employ her interest in behalf of the
persecuted. To such applications she always listened
with christian sympathy, and was ever ready to do
all in her power to afford assistance and relief to the
oppressed. The trials she had passed through in
early life, had exerted the most beneficial influence
in the formation of her character. The loss of an
affectionate and beloved father, in circumstances so
deeply distressing, and the death of an endeared
uncle, also in painful circumstances, had chastened
her spirit and strengthened that compassion for the
sufiering, and that benevolent interest in the wel-
fare and happiness of others which she exemplified
throughout life.
In the fate of the youthful Hugh M‘Kail, who
suffered martyrdom in 1666, she took a particu-
lar interest. His youth, his amiable dispositions,
his eminent piety, and his promising usefulness as
a minister of the gospel, as well as the excellent
character of his father, excited her compassion, and
after he had been tortured and indicted to stand
trial for treason before the court of justiciary, she
sent with his brother, Mr. Matthew, ten days before
his trial commenced, a letter to the Duke of Rothes,
his majesty’s high commissioner, earnestly beseech-
ing him to do what he could to save the life of this
excellent young man. With this letter, and another
to the commissioner, from the Lady Marchioness of
Douglas, her mother-in-law, his brother went, on

1 taking effect, through the baseness of Archbishop
Hence the baillies and town

the 8th of December, from Edinburgh to Glasgow,
where the commissioner was at that time on a visit.
What effect the intercessions of these ladies had
upon the duke, or whether they moved him to write
to the king on the subject, we have not ascertained.
His majesty, however, not long after this, and pre-
vious to the execution of M‘Kail, sent down a par-
don to the prisoners concerned in the Pentland
rising, who were not executed, and ordered them
to be sent to Barbadoes. But the pardon failed of
Sharp, who, besides feeling towards the Presbyte-
rians that inveterate malignity which has, in every
age, been characteristic of apostates, never forgot
the terms in which he fancied M‘Kail had spoken
concerning him in a sermon.‘ The prelate, who had
been biding his time, had new full opportunity given
him of gratifying his mortal hatred and revenge, and
determined that, whoever was spared, M‘Kail should
not escape, he concealed the king’s pardon till M‘Kail
and other four with him were executed.2
Another sufferer, on whose side the sympathies
of the duchess were enlisted, was Mr. James Mit-
chell, who had attempted the assassination of Arch-
bishop Sharp. It cannot be supposed that Mitchell’s
attempt, which was condemned by the great body of
the Presbyterians, was approved of by a lady so
well informed, and so opposed to all extreme courses
as was the duchess. Still the severity with which
he was treated excited commiseration in many who
condemned his rash and criminal act; and after he
was laid in prison, some of this class of the Presby-
terians were very active in endeavouring to obtain
his liberation, and the more especially as they
entertained apprehensions which, as was afterwards
proved, were too well founded, that he would be
brought to the scaffold, a punishment for his offence,
in their estimation, unduly severe. Among other
means, one of them, a lady, applied to the duchess


1 By this charter the family of Hamilton has the right of appoint-
ing a town clerk, and of electing two baillies annually, from a list of
six names chosen by the council, (but including the baillies of the
former year,) from their own number. The duke and duchess
elected the first council, but the right of electing a new council
annually in future, was vested for ever in the council of the preced-
ing year. In the old deeds, the duchess is styled “high and mighty
princess.”
2 Anderson’s Memoirs of the House of Hamilton, pp. 488, 489.
Solomon, chap. i. verse 7. The passage which proved so offensive
was an elegant apostrophe, in which the preacher appealed to per-
secutors of past ages, whether God had not proved faithful to his
threatenin gs against persecutors, as well as to his promises of deliver-
ance to his church and people. “ Let Pharaoh,” said he, “let Haman,
let Judas, let Herod, let each of them speak from experience of God’s
faithfulness ! Let all, then, have ears to hear, and hearing, acknow-
ledge that those who have made themselves remarkable for perse-
cution, God has stigmatized by his judgments ” The malicious gloss
which the party then in power put upon these words was, that the
preacher had publicly marked out and threatened or stigmatized the ,
King, Commissioner Middleton, Archbishop Sharp, and the Duke of i
York, the King’s brother, under the characters of Pharaoh, Haman, I‘
Judas, and Herod.-—Coltness Collections, p. 47. Sharp was pecu- l
liarly sensitive to the slightest allusion, real or supposed, to the i
subject of his perfidy and apostacy; nor did he fail, when he found \
1 M‘Kail’s sermon referred to was preached from the Song of i
l
opportunity, to revenge himself on such as ofl’ended him on this score.
2 Naphtali, p. 363. M‘Crie’s Memoirs of Veitch, &c ,p. 36. ROW’B
Life of Robert Blair, p. 506


DUCHESS OF HAMILTON .
61


when she passed through Edinburgh, in November,
1675, on her way to London, requesting her to to me she never entered into the points of contro-
exert her influence at court to procure his liberty,
or secure his personal safety. She received the,
application with much courtesy, and expressed her'
1
l
readiness to do everything in her power in behalf
of Mitchell, who had then been imprisoned for
nearly two years.
to Mr. Robert M‘Ward, dated November 29, 1675,
speaking on this subject, says, “D. H. [Duke
Hamilton] passed here [Edinburgh] with his lady
and eldest daughter, for London, Monday last. . .
. . . My friend ‘ spoke to her [the duchess] about
our friend [Mitchell]. She was very civil, and told
her there needed no interposing, if there should be
any access to deal for that person.” 2 But though
Charles had considerable respect for the duchess, and,
ungrateful though he was, sometimes expressed to
her, and probably in some measure felt, the obliga-
tions under which he lay to her father and her uncle,
who had sacrificed their lives in his cause, yet, at this
time, her patronage of the Presbyterians had lowered
her in the scale of the royal favour; and her inter-
cessions were besides resisted, and again rendered
ineffectual by Archbishop Sharp, whose vengeance
would be appeased with nothing less than the blood
of the man who had made an attempt on his life.
In 1670, when Archbishop Leighton proposed
his scheme of accommodation between the Episco-
palians and the Presbyterians, of which, among all
his party, Dr. Burnet was the most zealous sup-
porter, it was considered highly desirable to secure
the mediating influence of the Duchess of Hamilton,
in consequence of the high esteem in which she was
held by the Presbyterians, and the great weight she
had among them. Leighton sent to the western
counties six of the most popular prelatic ministers
he could engage, to go round the country to preach
in vacant churches, and to argue in support of the
accommodation with such as should come to hear
them. Burnet, the most eminent of them, on his
services being secured, went as if on a visit to the
Duke of Hamilton, but in reality with the view of
gaining over the duchess to the plan, and of pre-
vailing with her to use her influence in inducing
the Presbyterian ministers to embrace it. “I was
desired,” says he, “to go into the western parts,
and to give a true account of matters, as I found
them there. So I went as on a visit to the Duke
of Hamilton, whose duchess was a woman of great
piety and great parts. She had much credit among
them [the Presbyterians] ; for she passed for a zeal-

Mr. John Carstairs, in a letter.
I
ous Presbyterian, though,” he adds, “she protested
versy, and had no settled opinion about forms of
government; only she thought their ministers were
good men, who kept the country in great quiet and
order: they were, she said, blameless in their lives,
devout in their way, and diligent in their labours.” 1
The duchess cordially approved of the plan pro-
posed in the accommodation of admitting the Pres-
byterian ministers to the vacant churches. “The
people were all in a phrenzy,” says Burnet, “and
were in no disposition to any treaty. The furiousest
men among them were busy in conventicles, inflam-
ing them against all agreements : so she thought that
if the more moderate Presbyterians were put in
vacant churches, the people would grow tamer, and
be taken out of the hands of the mad preachers that
were then most in vogue: this,” she added, “ would
likewise create confidence in them in the govern-
ment; for they were now so possessed with preju-
dice as to believe that all that was proposed was only
an artifice, to make them fall out among themselves,
and deceive them at last.” 2 She got many of the
more moderate of the Presbyterian ministers to come
to Burnet, and they all talked in a similar strain.
From the manner in which the terms of the acconr
modation were represented to her by Burnet, and from
her not having closely turned her attention to the study
of church government, she did not, however, perceive
that the scheme, being at variance with Presbyterian
principles, would have ultimately secured the triumph
of prelacy, and could not therefore be conscien~
tiously accepted by the Presbyterians. Even after

1 Might not this be Mrs. James Durham?
9 Wodrow MSS., vol. lix., folio, no. 38.
1 Burnet’s History of His Own Times, v01. i., pp. 480, 481, 508.
In this, and in the subsequent accounts given by Burnet of what
the duchess said in reference to the Presbyterian ministers, there
may, without questioning his veracity, be room for thinking that,
unintentionally no doubt, he gives to her speeches a colouring
derived from his own peculiar leanings and sentiments, just as we
every day see the narration of facts deriving a colouring from the
same cause. For example, we have some doubt whether the duchess,
in speaking of the Presbyterian ministers, would say in these pre-
cise terms, that they were “ devout in flzeirway,” as if her own per-
sonal piety was of a different type from theirs; the fact being that
it was similar in character to that of the strictest of the Covenanters,
—to that of such men as Durham, Binning, and the Guthries,—
and that her views of doctrine, like theirs, were strictly Calvinistic.
Such were the piety and religious sentiments of her uncle, Duke
William, from whom she derived much religious instruction and
spiritual profit, and such were the piety and religious sentiments of
her daughter Catherine, Duchess of Atholl, who was educated under
her ownveye. Indeed, it appears that it was her personal piety and
her Calvinistic views of doctrine, more than any settled opinion
she had as to church government, which caused her decided pre-
ference of the preaching of the ejected ministers. The probability
then is, that she simply said that they were devout, and that Burnet
influenced in his ideas of personal piety by his Arminian sentiments,
unconsciously represented her as saying that they were “ devout in
their way.”
2 Ibid , vol. 1., p. 481.


62
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES OF



the Presbyterian ministers had held meetings on
the subject, and had rejected the proposed mea-
sure as inconsistent with their principles, she endea-
voured to prevail with them to embrace it. She
“ sent for some of them, [and for] Hutchison in par-
ticular. She said she did not pretend to understand
nice distinctions, and the terms of dispute: here
was plain sense : the country might be again at quiet,
and the rest of those that were outed admitted to
churches on terms that seemed to all reasonable
men very easy: their rejecting this would give a
very bad character of them, and would have very
bad effects, of which they might see cause to repent
when it would be too late.”1 But, fortunately, the
advice of the duchess, which was, in fact, though
she might not perceive it, to advise them to give up
without a struggle the cause for which they had all
suffered, and for which not a few of their countrymen
had already sacrificed their lives, was not complied
with, and thus the Presbyterian ministers proved
true to their own consistency, and to the cause
which they had vowed to defend. After conversing
with Hutchison, and urging upon his attention the
considerations already mentioned, she found that
there was no chance of the scheme being accepted,
and told Burnet that all she could draw from
him was that he saw the generality of his brethren
were resolved not to enter into it; that it would
prove a bone of contention, and instead of healing
old breaches would create new ones.2 Thus the
whole negotiation about the accommodation ended
in nothing. There is, however, no doubt that the
great anxiety of the duchess to get the Presbyterians
to embrace the accommodation, proceeded from her
sincere desire to see them delivered from the tyranny
and oppression under which they had so long groaned.
In testimony of the same amiable features of her
character, the following passage from a letter written
by Mr. John Carstairs to Mr. Robert M‘Ward,
November 29, 1675, may be quoted :—“ Things,”
says he, “have still a sad aspect on us, and that
disappointing parliament being prorogued, it’s like
we shall tyrannise it here at the old rate. D. H.
[Duke Hamilton] went here, with his lady and eldest
daughter, for London, Monday last, not sent for by
the king, but it’s like to see what he could do for
the advocates. His lady told a person of honour,
as I heard, that it should be seen that they went
upon no account of their own, but for the good of
the country, and of religion, though without all
hope of coming speed as to any thing, and desired
that friends might remember them.” 3 The duke, on


this visit to the court, urged upon the king, as we
have seen before, the granting of a larger indulgence
as the most effectual means of quieting the country;
a proposal with which his majesty, guided by his
infamous adviser Lauderdale, refused to comply,
taunting the duke as a favourer of nonconformists.
One thing which recommended Burnet to the
duchess, besides his talents, was his tolerant sen-
timents in regard to matters of religion; ‘ for
although connected with the prelatic church, and
from principle a supporter of prelacy, his temper was
moderate, and, like Leighton, he was an enemy to
persecution. In the family of Hamilton the suffer-
ings of the Presbyterians, for adhering to their cove-
nants, were not unfrequently the subject of conver-
sation; and, when present on such occasions, Burnet
was accustomed to speak in terms of high respect
of several of the ejected ministers and sufferers, as
well as of commiseration for them, and even ex-
pressed so high an opinion of the national covenant
which abjured popery, as to afiirm it to be his con-
viction, that it would never be well with Scotland
until it was renewed. This spirit, so very different
from that which animated the great body of the
prelatic clergy, was highly gratifying to her Grace,
with whose feelings and sentiments it so closely
harmonized.‘2
Though the duchess may not have desisted from
hearing the curates of Hamilton, the parish in which
she usually resided,—for on the subject of hearing
the curates the Presbyterians were divided in sen-
timent, and she confessedly belonged to the less
rigid portion of the body,—yet she frequented the
ministrations of the ejected ministers, taking her


1 Burnet’s History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 511. 2 Ibid.
8 Wodrow MSS., vol, lix. folio, no. 38.
1 So high was the opinion she formed of the talents and moderation
of Burnet that she engaged him to undertake the task of compiling
memoirs of her father and uncle, from the many papers in her pos-
session relating both to their public conduct and to their personal
character. These papers she had carefully preserved, her uncle
\Villiam having charged her to keep them with the same care as she
kept the writings of her estate, as they would be found to contain
a full justification of her father’s as well as his own public actings;
and desirous to vindicate the memory of these beloved relatives,
who, notwithstanding the errors of their political lives, possessed
many estimable qualities, she put all these documents into Burnet’s
hands. “This,” says he, “was a very great trust, and I made no
ill use of it. 1 found there materials for a very l. rge history. I
wrote it with great sincerity, and concealed none of their errors. I
did indeed conceal several things that related to the king. 1 left
out some passages that were in his letters, in some of which was
too much weakness, and in others too much craft and anger.”
(Burnet’s History of his Own Times, vol. i., p. 516 ) The work was
printed at London in 1677, and the Epistle Dedicatory, which is
addressed to the king, is dated London, 21st October, 1673. It
brings out the character of the duchess’s father in a much more
favourable light than Clarendon brings it out in his History of the
Rebellion, but that history, which was not published for many
years after its author’s death, has, not without ground, been sus-
pected of having been corrupted by the Oxford gentlemen who pub-
lished it. See Appendix, no. v.
2 Wodrow’s Analccta, vol. ii., p. 282: and his History, vol. iv.,
p. 271.


DUCHESS OF HAMILTON.
63


children along with her; and she was in the habit
of attending the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper
as administered by them, in various parts of the
country. When Mr. IVilliam Violant became in-
dulged minister at Cambusnethan, the Lord’s Supper
was frequently administered in that place, and was
resorted to by people from all quarters. Among
others, the duchess regularly went over to observe
the ordinance, and, on such occasions, it was her
practice to reside at Coltness, in the family of Sir
Thomas Stewart of Coltness, who was himself a man
of sincere piety, and whose lady was distinguished,
in no ordinary degree, for her christian virtues and
graces.1
In attending the indulged minsters, she was keeping
within the strict limits of law; but, breaking through
the fences of the law, she sometimes also counte-
nanced conventicles with her presence. This was one
main reason of the strong opposition which her hus-
band, the duke, made to the bond, which, by an act
of privy council, August 2, 1677, all heritors, wood-
setters, and life-renters were required to subscribe,
engaging that neither they themselves, their wives,
their children, their servants, nor their tenants should
assemble at conventicles, or afford encouragement and
protection to those who frequented them, or employ
any outed minister in baptising their children, and
that under the highest penalties appointed by former
laws, which are repeated in the proclamation. After
recording the alarm which this bond created in the
west, and giving an account of a meeting of noble-
men, gentlemen, and heritors in the shire of Ayr,
against it, presided over by the Earl of London,
Kirkton adds, “ The bond found no better reception
in Clydesdale, where there was a great meeting of
heritors at Hamilton; and the Duke of Hamilton
being at this time highly displeased with the pro-
ceedings of the council, and a great enemy to the
bond, knowing well he could not answer for his own
family, the bond was rejected even by those who
were of no principle, but to save their estate.” 2
This opposition, however, proved unavailing. It
raised Lauderdale’s fury to such a pitch that, at the
council table, he made bare his arm above his elbow,
and swore by Jehovah he would make the refractory
landholders enter into it. F or the purpose of coer-
cing them he brought down upon the West of Scot-
land, in 1678, a host of rapacious highlanders, to the
number of not less than'ten thousand.3 Another
species of oppression to which the gentlemen who
refused to subscribe the bond were subjected, was


the serving upon them a writ of lawborrows. The
term lawéorrows is from burg/1 or corrow, an old Scotch
word for caution, or surety, and means security given
to do nothing contrary to law. The import of a
lawborrows in Scotland is, that when two neighbours
are at such variance that the one dreads bodily harm
from the other, he procures from the justiciary (for-
merly from the council) or any other judges compe-
tent, letters charging the other to find caution or
security that the complainer, his wife, bairns, &c.,
shall be skaithlcss from the person complained of,
his wife, bairns, &c., in their body, lands, heritages,
850.; but before such letters can be granted, the
complainer must give his oath that he dreads bodily
harm, ‘trouble, or molestation from the person against
whom he complains. The propriety of magistrates
issuing such a writ in the case of private individuals
may be admitted; but its being issued at the suit of
the sovereign against his subjects, simply on account
of their refusing an unreasonable bond, was the
height of oppression.1
Yet, under the operation of this writ, the Duchess
of Hamilton was threatened to be brought; and had
Lauderdale succeeded in his wishes, she would have
been subjected to its restraints and penalties ; for
the Duke of Hamilton had intimation sent him that
it was designed to serve it upon him; 2 in other
words, that he was to be obliged, according to the
tenor of the act for serving lawborrows on the
refusers of the bond, to enact himself in the books
of the privy council, that he himself, the duchess,
their children and their tenants, should keep his
Majesty’s peace, and particularly that they should
not go to field conventicles, nor harbour nor com-
mune with rebels or persons intercommuned, and that
under the penalty of the double of his yearly valued
rent, or such other penalties as should be thought
convenient by the lords of the privy council or their
committee.3 Lauderdale, however, was compelled to
abandon his intentions. The ravages of the High-
land host, and the enactment in reference to law-
borrows, “ which looked like French or rather like
Turkish government,” created universal indignation.
The Duke of Hamilton, and ten or twelve of the
nobility, with about fifty gentlemen of quality, went
up to London to complain, and the storm of oppo-
sition became so violent that Lauderdale was glad
to recall the Highland host, and to suspend the
execution of writs of lawborrows.‘
Residing almost constantly at the palace of Hamil-

1 Coltness Collections, p. 68. 2 Kirkton’s History, pp. 377, 378-
3Burnet, in his “Own Times,” says 8000, (vol. ii., p. 134.)
Crookshank. in his History, more correctly makes them 10,000;
(vol. 1., p. 428.)
! Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 401, 403. Crookshank’s History,
vol. 1., p. 434-.
2 Bnrnet’s History of his Own Times, v01 ii., p. 135.
8 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii , p. 401.
* Burnet’s Own Times. vol. ii., p. 135.



6%
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES 01“




ten, the duchess had full opportunity of learning the
state of affairs in the district; and she entered much
into the feelings of the people in the dlstressing and
turbulent times in which she lived. She especially
took a great interest in the welfare and comfort of
her tenantry, and when, like others, they were exposed
to persecution and lawless violence, she was always
prepared, according to her ability, to throw the shield
of protection over them. In proof of this, we may
refer to the manner in which she acted when, in
1678, the Highland host, now adverted to, was let
loose, like an army of locusts, to lay waste the west-
ern parts of the country. The injury done by the
host to her tenantry was considerable, though per-
haps less than that suffered by many others. In the
parish of Strathaven, of which she was chief proprie-
tor, by an account taken up a considerable number
of years after the Revolution, from such sufferers as
were then alive, there was lost, by free quarters and
other extortions, the sum of 1700!. 1:28. ; “ and,” as
IVodrow remarks, “we may, without any stretch,
double it, considering that many were dead in thirty
years and more, after the Highland host were among
them.” In the small parish of Cambuslang, one
tenant had fifty Highlanders of Atholl’s men, with a
lieutenant and quarter-master, quartered on him for
eight days; another had sixteen quartered on him,
also for eight days ; and other three had each twenty-
two quartered on him during the same period. In
the return of the host from the more western parts,
one lieutenant Stewart, and quarter-master Leckie,
came to that parish with eighteen men, continuing
five weeks in it during seedtime ; and they told the
parish that they had orders to quarter eighty menJ
though they never showed their order. No more
than eighteen of their men ever came, but they
exacted from the parish money equivalent to free
quarters for eighty, which amounted to 861Z., and
whoever refused to pay had their houses rifled, and
were forced to buy back their goods at a much larger
sum than the sum for quarters would have amounted
to. The tenantry in Hamilton parish were also
sufferers from the same cause.
Indignant at these oppressions and hardships to
which her tenants were subjected, the duchess
instantly complained, and adopted measures for
obtaining redress. Upon the 5th of April, she
took an instrument against the Earl of Strathmore,
insisting for the restoration of what had been ille-
gally exacted from her tenants, in the parish of
Hamilton, by his soldiers. This instrument bears,
that on the 5th of April, in presence of a public
notary and witnesses, John Baillie, her chamberlain,
went to Patrick, Earl of Strathmore, who was for

the time in the dwelling-house of William Hamilton,
maltman, burgess of Hamilton, and there, in her name
and behalf, showed the Earl that neither she nor
William Duke of Hamilton, her husband, had ever
seen any orders allowing any OfilOCI‘S or soldiers in
any troops or regiments for the time within the shire
of Lanark, to have free quarters upon any person or
persons of whatever class ; and that, notwithstanding
thereof, a considerable part of the regiment of feet,
under the command of the Earl, some times more
and sometimes fewer, had quartered upon her lands
and property, within the parish of Hamilton, from
the 16th day of March last bypast to this present day
inclusive, without payment of any sums of money:
as also, that the said soldiers had exacted diverse
sums of money, or dry quarters (as they termed
these exactions), from several of her tenants, and
that over and above the entertainment of meat,
drink, and bedding they had in the places where
they were quartered. For this reason, and in respect
no order had been shown for free quarters, or levy-
ing of money, over and above the same, Mr. Baillie,
in name and behalf, and at command of the duchess,
desired the earl either to pay, or cause payment to
be made, to her respective tenants, for the quarters
his soldiers had upon her respective tenants during
the period of time above written; and also that the
said tenants might be reimbursed of all exact-ions
made by his soldiers from them, To this it was
answered by the earl, that the bringing such of his
regiment into Hamilton parish was at the command of
his majesty’s privy council, founded upon his maj esty’s
warrant; that the way in which he had quartered
them was conformably to orders from the major-
general; that he had never commanded or allowed
any exactions of any kind besides their quarters 5 and
that such other exactions (if any were made), were
expressly contrary to his orders. Upon which, this
answer being judged unsatisfactory, Mr. Baillie, in
name and at command of the duchess, as also the
Earl of Strathmore, took instruments in the hands
of a public notary.l Whether these tenants were
reimbursed for their losses does not appear. The
probability is that they were not, but the represen-
tations made by the duchess, the duke and others in
reference to the proceedings of the Highland host,
so far succeeded, that these savages, after having
ravaged the country for two months, were recalled.
The duchess was residing at Hamilton palace
when the Covenanters, and the king’s troops, under
the command of the Duke of Monmouth, fought at
Bothwell Bridge, on Sabbath the 22d of June, 1679.

l Wodrow’s History, v01. ii., p. 430.


DUCHESS OF
HAMILTON. 65



The result of this unfortunate engagement is well
known. The Covenanters were defeated and put to
flight. Few of them were slain in the encounter,
but some hundreds were slaughtered in the most
barbarous manner in the neighbouring fields, whither

they had fled. A great number of them sought for
concealment in the wooded parks around Hamilton
palace; and here they found effectual shelter; for
the humane duchess, on being informed that many 1
of the insurgents who had been defeated were lurk-
ing in her policies, and that the royal army was
pursuing them, sent a message to the Duke of
Monmouth, desiring that he would prevent his sol-
diers from trespassing upon her grounds. With this
request Monmouth, whose humanity in restraining
the soldiers is deserving of commendation, instantly
complied by giving orders to that effect ; and thus
none of the fugitives who had taken refuge in her
plantations were farther molested. ‘
In additionto her humanity, the duchess possessed
a nice sense of the honourable and just in spirit and
in conduct. And as by such principles she herself was
uniformly regulated, it afforded her much satisfaction
to meet with them in others. Of this we have a fine
illustration in an interesting correspondence which
took place in 1687, between her and Thomas Rokeby,
son of Major Rokeby, for whose use part of the estate
of Hamilton had been sold in Cromwell’s time. This
gentleman writes to her, informing her that he was
the ninth son of Major ltokeby; that after much
reflection with himself, he had come to the conclusion
that Cromwell had no power to give away what was
not his own; that by his father’s death a tenth part
of the price (two hundred and twenty-five pounds
sterling) had come to him, when a boy, which was
the only part he had in the injury; and that, having
suffered many hard conflicts with himself on that
account, he had resolved to make restitution, as the
first step to forgiveness, first from God, and then
from her Grace. He wrote to her five letters on this
subject. With these communications the duchess
was much gratified, not indeed because she attached
any importance to the amount of his share of her
spoils which he was so anxious to restore, but
because of the indication they gave of a high sense of
honour and a scrupulous regard to justice, which, in
such matters, is not very common, and of which she
probably never met, during her long life, with a similar
instance. In her answers to his letters she says little
about the money, telling him that the duke took care
of that; but she expresses her admiration at his
conduct, “falling almost before him as a votary,”


and earnestly desires an interest in the prayers of a
person endowed, in her estimation, with such supe-
rior excellence of character. These letters are pre-
served among the state papers and other documents
in the palace of Hamilton, and Mr. George Chalmers,
the well-known author of Caledonia, who had read
them, says, “The beautiful simplicity that runs
through this correspondence cannot be seen but in
the letters themselves.” ‘
Of the Revolution which took place in 1688, the
duchess was a warm friend, both because it delivered
these nations from tyranny and popery, and restored
the Presbyterian Church of Scotland to her rights
and liberties. Lockhart styles her “ a staunch Pres-
byterian, and hearty revolutioner.”2 Her zeal in
the cause of the church was well known to King
William, who delicately jested her on the subject;
as we learn from the following anecdote, recorded
by Wodrow. Writing, October 3, 1710, he says,
“ I hear that a little after the revolution, when this
present Duchess of Hamilton was coming down from
court, and had taken her leave of the queen, and
took leave of King ‘William, he, smiling, said, ‘ You
are going down to take care of the kirk.’ ‘Yes,
Sir,’ she replied, ‘ I own myself a Presbyterian,’ and
offered to kneel to kiss his hand. The king pre-
sently supported her, and, as I think, did not suffer
her to kneel, but said, ‘Madam, I am likewise a
Presbyterian.’ This I have from one that was wit-
ness to it, and another good band that had it from
the duchess.” 3
The duke, her husband, was also a zealous sup-
porter of the revolution government; but her son,
the Earl of Arran, devotedly adhered to James VII.
He had been much courted by that monarch, who
had conferred upon him various lucrative and hon-
ourable situations, such as the office of his majesty’s
lieutenant and sheriff in the shires of West Lothian,
Lanark, Renfrew, and Dumbarton ; the office of
groom of the stole, and first gentleman of the bed:
chamber; the office of colonel of a royal regiment
of horse, and of brigadier-general of all the horse;
as well as the honour of a knight of the thistle. 4
Gained by these marks of royal favour, he supported
James in opposition to the government of William ;
and, having been engaged in a plot for the restoration
of James, he was twice committed prisoner to the
Tower of London, where he remained for many
months, but was at length discharged without pro-

1 Chambers’ Picture of Scotland, vol. i., p. 357. New Statistical
Account of Scotland, Hamilton, in Lanarkshire, p ‘266. 1
1 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv., pp. 133, 154.
2 Lockhart’s Papers, vol. i., p. 602.
3 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., p. 304.
4 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
0f the Maitland Club, vol.iv., p. I33.



I
66
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



i

secution. While he lay in prison, the duchess, though
disapproving of his conduct, naturally felt for her
son, and wrote to the Earl of Melville interceding in
his behalf, as she had often before interceded with
men in high places, in behalf of those who had suffered
in a better cause. The letter is as follows :—
“MY Lonn,—The receipt of yours of the 4th,
was a great surprise to me, to find, after so long a
delay of that affair I commended so earnestly to your
lordship, that there is so little done in it. I doubt
not, but as you write, and as I am otherwise in-
formed, the stop has not lain at your door, though
there are who say it has, but I wish it were made
evident who have been the obstructors. I hope my
son’s peaceable behaviour all this time will render
his circumstances something more favourable than
[ those of] some others,‘ and, when his majesty con-
siders the service his father has done, will move him
to renew the same favour he granted before to my
son, his liberty 011 bail, which will be received as a
great favour to all concerned; and if the ill condi-
tion of his health were known, it would plead com-
passion for him. But I have not time to add more,
but my lord’s humble service to you, and that I am,
my lord, your lordship’s most humble servant,
“ HAMILTON.
“ Holyroodhouse, 19 December, 1690.” 1
In the year 1706, when the question of the union
of the kingdoms of Scotland and England was so
keenly agitated, the duchess was a very zealous
opponent of the measure. The union was indeed
in the highest degree unpopular among all parties.
The Cavaliers or J acobites, perceiving that it would
destroy all hopes of the restoration of the pretender,
violently obstructed it in every stage of its progress.
The Presbyterians, too, whose opposition was much
more formidable, opposed it, though from very
diflerent views, dreading that the consequence would
be the supplanting of their favourite Presbyterian
church government, by the prelatic form established
in. England; and so strong was this apprehension,
that it could not be removed by all the offers made
of securii y to the established Presbyterian church.
Burnet,who was then Bishop of Salisbury, and a great
courtier, says that these fears were “infused in
them chiefly by the old duchess of Hamilton, who
had great credit with them.” 2 But this is perhaps
ascribing to her Grace a larger amount of weight
in the Church of Scotland, than, notwithstanding
the great respect entertained for her, she actually


possessed. Altogether independent of her opinion
or influence, the intrinsic importance of the question
itself roused the attention of the Presbyterians ; and
they considered that good affection and zeal for the
just rights and liberties, both of the nation and of
the Presbyterian government of the Church of
Scotland, as then by law established, bound them
to oppose the union. The duchess, however, did all
in her power to prevail on her friends to set them-
selves against it. Among the Hamilton Papers
there are still preserved several letters she wrote to
her son the duke, inciting him to oppose it as
ruinous to his country, and stedfastly to concur
with the Duke of Atholl and those in the opposi-
tion.I Burnet states that “it was suggested that
she and her son had particular views, as hoping that,
if Scotland should continue a separate kingdom, the
crown might come into their family, they being the
next in blood after king James’s posterity.” But
such an insinuation is altogether gratuitous. The
love of country, and attachment to the doctrine and
government of the Church of Scotland, were the
avowed reasons of her hostility to the union. That
her motives were family considerations was the
surmise of her enemies, which they could not support
by a single word she had ever uttered or written, or
by a single action she had ever performed.
Upon the preaching of the gospel and the public
ordinances of religion the duchess set a high value.
She attended with exemplary regularity public wor-
ship on the Lord’s day; and after the Revolution,
when the church was settled in a manner more con-
sonant to her inclinations than before, she took a
christian interest in the efficiency and success of the
gospel ministry. To secure to the parishes where
her influence extended, such probationers as, upon
the best inquiry, were found to be acceptable to all
ranks in the parish, was her great object. To the
external comfort of the ministers of these as well as
other parishes, she was ever ready to minister, and
in other ways to encourage them in the faithful
discharge of their pastoral duties. To provide more
extensively the means of grace to the inhabitants of
the district where she lived, and to the tenantry on
her estate, was also her anxious desire. In testimony
of this, she endowed a second minister in Hamilton,
and another in Lesmahago.3 She endowed a catechist,
or preacher of the gospel, for Strathaven, who is
always a licentiate of the Church of Scotland, and
assists the parish minister by visiting the sick, cate-

1 The Leven and Melville Papers, p. 587.
2 Burnct’s History of his Own Times, vol. vi., p. 277.
1 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 201.
2 Burnet’s History of his Own Times, vol. vi., p. 277.
3 Scots Magazine for 1773, pp 5, 6. Chalmers’ Caledonia, vol. iii.,


DUCHESS OF HAMILTON. . 67





chising the parish, and preaching one half of the I marks of attention and respect, prevented her, say-
ycar. By her deed of mortification, dated 1st April, 1 ing, “ Step forward, honest woman, there is no dis-
1710, the annual income secured to him is 500 tinction of ranks here.” ‘
merks, and his appointment is vested in the noblei The other feature of her character worthy of
family of Hamilton.1 To the stipend of the parish special notice, is her pains-taking endeavours to
minister of Strathaven she added, by mortification, ' train up her children in the nurture and admonition
the annual sum of £5, which is regularly paid by t of the Lord. “There is nothing,” as has been justly
the Duke of Hamilton? She mortified, 15th August, observed, “which presents the duchess’s character in
1715, a piece of ground and a barn, for the use of a more favourable light, and recommends her more
the minister of Borrowstounness and his successors for imitation, than the decided interest she took in
for ever. 3 She also mortified, 13th October, 16%, ‘ the religious education of her own family. To over-
to the university of Glasgow, the sum of 18,000 look all concern about having religious principles
merks for the use of three theologues, from time to instilled into the minds of their children, has been
time, to be presented by the family of Hamilton. 4 often too common with those in conspicuous ranks,
Besides these deeds of liberality, “she founded and and their principal care has been to provide for them
endowed several schools, built bridges, and performed every facility of acquiring fashionable and polite
many acts of benevolence, which make her name to accomplishments. A suitable care that her family
be revered in Clydesdale to this day.” 5 might not be without the accomplishments becoming
We shall only advert to two other features of this their high rank in society, was not overlooked by
lady’s christian character. The one is, the senti- her Grace. But she also considered that it was a
ments of humility which pervaded her spirit in the 1 matter of the first, and of vital importance, that true
house of God. In other places, and at other times, ' religion should be understood, esteemed, and dili-
she was not unwilling to receive the honour due to gently practised in her family. Her children were
her rank; but there, sisted in the presence of the l much under her eye, and had a great respect and
Divine Majesty, to whom all the temporary distinc- affection for her, especially her daughter, Lady
tions of life are nothing, she wished to appear on Catherine,2 who became the wife of the Duke of
the same footing with the poorest, feeling that she Atholl. There is every evidence, from the Diary of
laboured under the same necessities as a rational Lady Catherine, that, besides other means of infor-
and an immortal being; that she had equally merited mation and improvement to which she had access,
God’s wrath, and equally stood in need of his mercy. the instructions and example of her esteemed mother
An instanceof this pious humilitywhich she cherished were of great use, by the blessing of God, in dis‘
in the place of public worship is still preserved. At posing her mind to that love of charity and religion
the stated times for the celebration of the Lord’s which took deep root in her heart, and to that faith-
Supper, in the parish of Hamilton, she was a regular ful discharge of her duties as a wife, a parent, and
communicant ; and 011 one of these occasions, when a Christian, for which she was so distinguished.”3
she was coming forward to the table of the Lord, The duchess lived to a very advanced age, retain-
a plain decent aged woman, who was just taking her . ing the possession of her mental faculties to the
l
seat at the table, on observing her, was about to last; and exhibiting the most exemplary christian
step aside to give her the precedency; but the - patience under the infirmities of declining years.
duchess, unwilling to receive in that place such Mr. Robert Wylie, minister of Hamilton, in a letter
to Bishop Burnet, her old friend, dated October 29,
p. 723. The parish of Lesmahago was served by two ministers long 1714, says, “ The g‘OOtl Old (111011653 13 513111 alive,
before this period. The second minister was estal'ilishedaconsider- entire in her judgment and Senses, and labouring
able time before the Restoration, but from what source his stipend _ _ _ _
was then paid does not appear. The writer in the Scots Magazine, Wlllll a lllOSt exemplary pat1ence and resignation
in recording the liberality of the duchess in endowing the second
minister in the parish of Lesmahago, adds: “ This is but one instance
1 have mentioned of her piety and generosity. It would be impos-
sible to enumerate them all. On this account her memory will be
revered, not only in Lesmahago, where she was so well known, but ;
by all acquainted with her character, as long as a sense of virtue
and religion remain in the world.”
1 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
(f the Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 206.
2 New Statistical Account of Scotland, Lanarkshire, Avondale.
3 Descriptive Catalogue of the Hamilton Papers in the Miscellany
of the Maitland Club, vol. iv., p. 206.
4 Ibid.
6 Anderson’s Memoirs of the House of Hamilton, p. 150.
1This anecdote is taken from a MS. volume entitled “Memoirs 0!
Catherine, Duchess of Atholl, in form of a Diary, Originally written
by Herself. To which are prefixed, Biographical Notices of the
Duchess’s Parents, William, Third Duke, and Anne, Duchess of
Hamilton; Of her Husband, John, First Duke of Atholl, and of
Duchess Catherine herself.” By the late Rev. Mr. Moncrieif, n1in~
ister of the United Secession Church in Hamilton. The Notice 01
Duchess Anne is short, but interesting. I cannot here omit ex-
pressing my obligations to the Rev. W. G. Moncrieif, Musselburgb,
who in the kindest manner favoured me with a perusal of that work
by his father, with full permission to make full use of its contents.
2 A Notice of this Lady is given in the close of this volume.
3 111'. Moncrieif’s MS.



68 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT~




under the infirmities of old age and frequent con-
flicts with the gout.”l This was very nearly two
years before her death; which took place at the
palace of Hamilton, on Wednesday, October 17,
1716, at six o’clock at night. The Scots Courant of
that year, in recording her death, states that she was
then in the 86th year of her age, adding that she
“ was apious and virtuous lady, and is much lament-
ed.” Her mortal remains were deposited beside
those of her husband, father and ancestors, in the
family burying vault at Hamilton.
The particulars of her last illness have not been
recorded; but the manner in which she had spent a
long life, had been such as to form the best pre-
paration for another world, and it cannot be doubted
that her latter end was peace. She came to the
grave in a good old age, like as a shock of corn
cometh in its season. Men of different and opposite

* Wodrow’s Correspondence, v01. 1., p. 604.
political and religious creeds, have united in paying
homage to her virtue, piety and mental endowments.
Bishop Burnet’s testimony to these has already been
quoted. Crawford describes her as “ a lady who for
constancy of mind, evenness of temper, solidity of
judgment and an unaffected piety, will leave a shining
character, as well as example, to posterity, for her
conduct as a wife, a mother, a mistress, and in all
other conditions of life.” ‘ Lockhart, a violent
Jacobite, characterizes her as “ a lady of great
honour and singular piety.” 2 And so high was the
reputation for christian excellence which she left
behind her, that her memory was cherished with
affectionate veneration long after her death, and
even down to the present day, the “good Duchess
Anne ” is the name by which she is familiarly known
in the district where she commonly resided, and
where her piety and benevolence were best known.

1 Crawford’s Peerage of Scotland, p. 212.

2 Lockhart’s Papers, vol. i., p. 597.

MRS. WILLIAM VEITCH.l
MARION FAIRLIE, the subject of this sketch, “ who,”
as the editor of her Diary well observes, “endured
an amount of domestic affliction and vexatious perse-
cution, in many cases more trying than martyrdom
itself,” was born in 1638, a year famous in the annals
of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. Her father
was descended from the ancient family of the Fairlies,
of the house of Braid, near Edinburgh, and was
related to Lord Lee’s first lady, who was of that
house and name. Both her parents, being eminent
for piety, were careful to instruct her in her tender
vears in the principles of divine truth, and to impress
upon her mind the importance of the one thing
needful. By the divine blessing on these labours of
parental love, together with the pastoral instructions
of an evangelical and faithful minister, Mr. Robert
Birnie of Lanark, she early acquired that deep sense
of the things of God which she exemplified to the
close of a long life. “It pleased God,” says she,
“ of his great goodness, early to incline my heart to
seek him, and bless him that I was born in a land
where the gospel was at that time purely and power-
fully preached; as also, that I was born of godly
parents and well educated. But above all things, I
bless him that he made me see that nothing but the
righteousness of Christ could save me from the wrath
of God.” She adds, “ One day having been at prayer,
and coming into the room where one was reading a
letter of Mr. Rutherford’s, (then only in manuscript,)
directed to one John Gordon of Rosco, giving an
account how far one might go, and yet prove a
hypocrite and miss heaven, it occasioned great exer-
cise to me.1 Misbelief said, I should go to hell;
but one day at prayer, the Lord was graciously
pleased to set home upon my heart that word, ‘ To
whom, Lord, shall we go? thou hast the words of
eternal life,’ (John vi. 68.) And at another time,
that word, ‘ Those that seek me early shall find me,’
Prov. viii. 17.”
On the 23d of Nov., 1664c, she was united in mar-
riage to Mr. William Veitch, son of Mr. John Veitch,
the nonconforming ejected minister of Roberton.
Mr. Veitch had been for some time previous chaplain
to Sir Hugh Campbell of Calder, in Morayshire, but
was forced to leave that family about September that
year; for, on the restoration of prelacy, none, accord-
ing to an act of parliament, were permitted to be
chaplains in families, to teach any public school, or
to be tutors to the children of persons of quality,
without the license of the bishop of the diocese; 2

1 This Notice of Mrs. Veitch is drawn up chiefly from her own
Diary, and from the Memoirs of Mr. Veitch, written by himself.
1 See Rutherford’s Letters, p. 552, Whyte and Kennedy’s Edition.
5' Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 267.




MRS. WILLIAM VEITCH.
69





and Mr. Murdoch M‘Kenzie, bishop of Moray,
having, upon making inquiry, found Mr. Veitch’s
opinions hostile to prelacy, would not suffer him to
remain in that situation. He accordingly came south,
and, staying for some time with his father, who,
since his ejection, had taken up his residence at
Lanark, became acquainted with the godly families
of that place, among which was the family of the
young lady whom he married. Several of her friends
endeavoured, but without effect, to dissuade her
from the marriage, urging, among other reasons, the
worldly straits to which, from the discouraging aspect
of the times, she might be reduced. This at first
occasioned her no inconsiderable anxiety of mind;
but she resolved to trust in God’s promises for all
needful temporal good things, as well as for spiritual
blessings. “And,” says she, “these promises were
remarkably made good to me in all the various places
of my sojourning in diverse kingdoms, which I here
mention to the commendation of His faithfulness.
His word in this has been a tried word to me,
worthy to be recorded, to encourage me to trust
him for the future; who heretofore has not only
provided well for me and mine, but made me in the
places where my lot was cast useful to others, and
made that word good, ‘As having nothing, and yet
possessing all things,’ 2 Cor. vi. 10.”
Scareely two years after her marriage, the storm
of persecution burst upon her and Mr. Veitch,
separating them from each other, and ultimately
forcing them to seek refuge in England. Mr. Veitch,
who was a bold and daring man, was prevailed upon
by Mr. John Welsh, minister of Irongray, and others
who came to his house at the Westhills of Dunsyre,
where he farmed a piece of land, to join with that
party of the Covenanters, who, provoked by the
brutal cruelties and robberies of Sir James Turner,
rose in arms, and were defeated by the king’s forces
at Pentland Hills.l This was the origin of the
multiplied dangers and troubles to which he and
Mrs. Veitch were subjected, by the government
and its agents, during a series of many years. She
seems to have had no scruples of conscience as to
the propriety of the appeal which the Covenanters,
in this instance, made to arms : she at least wished
them all success. On the night of the defeat, she was
entertaining several of the officers who had fled to her
house for shelter, and weeping lest her husband, of
whose fate they could not inform her, should have
been killed. On that same night, Mr. Veitch made
his escape, and came to a herdsman’s house in
Dunsyre Common, within a mile of his own house,

1 The battle was fought on Wednesday the 28th of November,
1666.


giving the herdsman his horse to take home to his
own stable, and desiring him to inform Mrs. Veitch
of his safety. He lurked several nights thereabout,
and at last retired into England.
Two days after the battle, Mrs. Veitch was thrown
into alarm by a party of Dalziel’s troop, which that
general, 011 learning where Mr. Veitch resided, had
sent to the house to search for him; but to her great
comfort he was not at home, and though in the
immediate neighbourhood, escaped falling into their
hands. It was also gratifying both to him and her,
that the troopers did not get his fine horse, the man
servant having led him out to the moor; for, as it
belonged to Lord Loudon, from whom the insurgent
Covenanters had taken it, on account of his sending
his officer to warn all his tenants not to rise to their
assistance, they were anxious to restore it to its
rightful owner. On the following day, which was
Saturday, Mr. Veitch having sent a man servant
down to Tweeddale, to see whether it might be safe
to travel through that part of the country, Mrs.
Veitch rode behind the man servant upon Lord
Loudon’s horse to the house of Mr. Patrick Fleming,
minister of Stobo, a nonconformist, and sent Mr.
Veitch word, according to his desire, by the man
servant, who was to return, that he might, to all
appearance, with perfect safety, join her at the house
of their friend, as she had observed no parties search-
ing in that direction. On Mr. Veitch’s arrival at Mr.
Fleming’s house, which was about midnight, it was
judged safest for him immediately to leave it, and
seek shelter elsewhere; and Mrs. Veitch accom-
panied him on his journey, it being new the Sabbath
morning, riding behind him on the same horse. They
reached Glenvetches before day, and at night came
to Torwoodlee, the residence of Mr. George Pringle,
who, with his lady, a daughter of Brodie of Lethin,
in the North of Scotland, were ardently attached to
the religion and liberty of their country, and whose
house was a sanctuary to many of the persecuted in
those evil times. Leaving this hospitable mansion,
they next proceeded to the house of Mr. Veitch’s
brother, Mr. John, minister of Westruther, in the
shire of Berwick. Here having seen the printed pro-
clamation for the apprehension of the leading whigs,
in which his own name appeared, Mr. Veitch deemed
it prudent to secure his safety by fleeing into England,
leaving behind him his wife and Lord Loudon’s horse.
She rode on the horse to Edinburgh, where she
delivered it to one of his lordship’s friends, and
then returned to her own family at the Westhills of
Dunsyre. Meanwhile Veitch went to Newcastle.
After her return home, Mrs. Veitch was greatly
molested with parties of troopers, who came to her


7 0 THE LADIES on THE COVENANT.


house to search for her husband. On such occasions and all that he had having been taken from him upon
it was usual for a party of them to surround the house his forfeiture in life and fortune after the battle of
to prevent him, should he be within, from making his Pentland Hills, except a little which was unknown
escape by the windows, or any concealed or back door, to his persecutors. After recording in her Diary
while another party went into the house and searched her removal from Scotland to England, Mrs. Veitch
through every room and corner. Judging that there says, “Being deprived of what once I had in Scot-
was more likelihood of his being at home during the land, I renewed my suit to God for me and mine,
night than during the day, they ordinarily paid their and that was that he would give us the tribe of
unwelcome visits in the night, when Mrs. Veitch Levi’s inheritance, ‘For the Lord God was their
and her children were in bed; and at whatever hour inheritance,’ Josh. xiii. 33. When I entered into
they came, they rudely commanded her to rise and a strange land, I besought the Lord that he would
open the doors, threatening, that unless she did so give me food to eat and raiment to put on, and
quickly, they would force an entrance by breaking bring me back to see his glory in Scotland. This
them up. But though often engaged in making promise was exactly made out to me.”
these searches, and so intent upon their object as to She did not remain long in that place, having gone
secure the aid of a malignant laird and lady in the ‘ with Mr. Veitch to reside five miles farther in the
neighbourhood, who promised to inform them when country, where, besides preaching in ahall at Harnam,
he came home, they never succeeded in finding him. j he farmed a piece of ground, and got as a residence
Hearing of the harassing annoyances to which his ‘ for his family Harnamhall, the mansion of Major
wife was subjected, Mr. Veitch, dangerous as it was, i Babington, the representative of the Babingtons, a
came from Newcastle to see her and the children, I family whose antiquity in Britain is traced as far
and advised her to give up the farm and take up her back as the Conquest. After continuing here four
residence in Edinburgh, where, he hoped, she might , years, being again under the necessity of removing.
he suffered to remain in quiet. Removing to Edin-
the house and ground having fallen into the hands
burgh, in compliance with his desire, she continued j of a new proprietor, who refused to continue Mr.
l


to live with her children in the capital for several Veitch as his tenant, she accompanied him to Stan-
ycars; during which time she was free from the tonhall, in the parish of Longhorsly, in May, 1676
troublesome visitors, who had rendered her so un- or 1677. That district, abounding with papists, and
comfortable at the Westhills of Dunsyre. the incumbent of the parish, hir. Thomas Bell, a
At length, about the year 1672, she and the chil- I Scotsman, being a violent persecutor, it was far from
dren went to England to live with Mr. Veitch, who, i being a desirable place of residence for the family of
after travelling from place to place preaching the a nonconforming Presbyterian minister. Here Mrs.
gospel to the English nonconformists, who had been ' Veitch experienced no small trouble from the re-
deprived of their ministers by the act of uniformity, I peated attempts made to apprehend Mr. Veitch. At
and by subsequent proceedings on the part of govern- j one time, on the second Sabbath of August, 1678,
ment, had been prevailed with by the people of about three o’clock in the afternoon, two justices of
Reedsdale, in Northumberland, to give them the , the peace, on the simple information of a single indi-
bencfit of his stated ministry, and to bring his family vidual, seconded by the threatenings and persuasion
thither. Before leaving Scotland she had given birth ‘ of Mr. Bell, came with some men to apprehend him
to four children. There two of them, a daughter j at a meeting in his own house. One of the justices,
and a son, had died and were buried. The other‘ with his party, came to the front gates, while the
two, who were sons, William and Samuel, she took other, with his party, appeared at the back gate.
with her to England. In those days, when neither They rudely broke into the house and searched
railways nor stage coaches existed, it was the through it with pistols in their hands. Baffled in
custom to convey children to a distance in creels their attempts to find Mr. Veitch, who concealed
upon horseback, and by this slow and inconvenient himself within the lining of a large window, which
mode of travelling she brought her two boys by dif- had been made for that purpose, they at last went
ferent stages from Edinburgh to the new place of away, after having advised Mrs. Veitch to allow her

their residence, which was a village called Falalies, husband to preach only to herself and her children, '
within the parish of Rothbury, in Northumberland. in which case they assured her she should not be
Here Mr. Veitch, for the better'support of his family, troubled.
farmed a piece of ground, the salary he received as Another attempt, made some time after, to appre-
minister from the people, who were poor, being alto- hend him, proving successful, became to her a,

gether inadequate for the maintenance of his family, source of greater trouble. On Sabbath, the 19th of


MRS. WILLIAM VEITCH.
71



January, 1679, Major Oglethorp, with a party of his
dragoons from Morpeth, arrived at her house, which
was three or four miles distant from Morpeth, about
five o’clock in the morning, while the family were
fast asleep. One Cleugh, a sheriff-bailiff, whom
Oglethorp, who was a stranger in the country, had
hired as his guide, on reaching the house, went to
the window of the parlour where Mr. and Mrs.
Veitch were sleeping, and rapping on the glass of
the window, repeatedly called out the name of Mr.
Veitch, who, awaking, asked who was there. On
hearing him speak, Cleugh said to the major, who
was standing beside him, “Now, yonder he is, I
have no more to do.” Oglethorp, thus understand-
ing that the object of his search was in the house,
instantly broke in pieces the glass window, in order to
get in; but finding iron bars in his way, he demanded
that the door should be immediately opened; and,
impatient of delay, he and his dragoons broke in at
the hall windows, and getting their candles lighted
before the servant maid opened the inner doors,
they apprehended Mr. Veitch, and carried him to
Morpeth jail, where he continued prisoner twelve
days.
During the time that this scene was enacting,
Mrs. Veitch, though not free from alarm, yet per-
suaded that men could do nothing against her and her
husband but what God permitted, conducted herself
with a degree of composure which even surprised
the rude and heartless military. In relating the
scene, she says, “It bred some trouble and new
tear to my spirit; but He was graciously pleased to
set home that word, ‘He does all things well,’
Mark vii. 37; ‘Trust in the Lord and fear not
what man can do,’ Ps. lvi. 11; which brought peace
to me in such a measure, that 1 was made often to
wonder; for all the time the officers were in the
house He supported me, so that I was not in the
least discouraged before them, which made Maior
Oglethorp say he wondered to see me. I told him
I looked to a higher hand than his in this, and I
knew he could not go one hairbreadth beyond God’s
permission. He answered, that He permits his
enemies to go a great length sometimes. They
took him to prison, where he lay about twelve
daysf’
During that period of Mr. Veitch’s imprisonment
Mrs. Veitch was deeply afflicted in spirit, for which
she had indeed too much reason, her prospects being
very dark and distressing. She had no ground to
hope that he would be soon released. She had, on the
contrary, much cause to fear that he would share
the fate of those who had been put to death for the
Pentland insurrection; for he was regarded by the


government as a traitor of the deepest dye; sentence
of death had been pronounced against him in his
absence for high treason,l and he was excluded by
name from the king’s pardon and indemnity:2 all
which augured ill for his future safety. Besides,
she had now six helpless children, entirely dependent
upon herself, with no apparent means of providing
for their temporal necessities. But though sunk in
sorrow in such trying circumstances, she was not
overwhelmed with despair. Betaking herself to the
throne of grace, where the afflicted have so often
found relief, and reposing in the gracious promises
of God’s word, she was enabled to acquiesce in the
divine will, even though her husband should fall a
sacrifice to the fury of persecution, and though she
herself, with her fatherless children, should be cast
destitute upon the world. All the twelve days of
his imprisonment, she says, “I was under much
exercise of spirit, which made me go to God many
times on his behalf. He made that word often sweet
to me, ‘He performeth the things appointed for me,’
Job XXIII-14!; and that, ‘He is of one mind, and
who can turn him i” verse 13. Much means were
used for his liberty, but all to no effect, which bred
new errands to God for him and me. But misbe-
lief coming in and telling many ill tales of God, was
like to discourage me; to wit, that I was a stranger
in a strange land, and had six small children, and
little in the world to look to. But He comforted
me with these words :—
‘ 0 why art thou cast down, my soul ;
What should discourage thee ?
And why with vexing thoughts art thou
Disquieted in me?
Still trust in God; for him to praise
Good cause 1 yet shall have:
He of my count’nance is the health.
My God that doth me save.’—1’s. .\'lii1 5.
“ At length He helped me to give him freely to Him,
to do with him as He pleased; and if his blood
should fill up the cup of the enemy, and bring about
deliverance to His church, I would betake myself
to His care and providence for me and my children.”
She adds, as if her faith had stayed the fury of the
persecutor, and arrested his cruel purpose, “And
while I was yet speaking to God in prayer, that
word was wonderfully brought into my mind, ‘Abra-
ham, hold thy hand, for I have provided a sacrifice,’
Gen. xxii. 11, 1:2, which comforted me concerning
my husband ; and that word, ‘ The meal in the barrel
shall not waste, nor the oil in the cruise, until the
Lord send rain 011 the earth,’ 1 Kings xvii. 14, which
brought much peace to my troubled spirit concern-

1 On the 16th of August, 1667. 2 Dated October 151:, 1667.



72
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


ing my family. I thought I had new ground to
believe he should not die; but misbelief soon get
the upper hand, and told me it was not the lan-
guage of faith, which put me to go to God, and
pour out my spirit before Him. And He answered
me with that word, ‘They that walk in darkness,
and have no light, let them trust in the Lord, and
stay themselves on their God!’ Isaiah 1. 10, which
refreshed me much, and gave me more ground to
believe my husband should not die.”
While Mr. Veitch was lying in Morpeth jail, she
received a letter from him, written on the evening of
the 11th day of his imprisonment, informing her, that,
an order having been despatched from the king and
English council to transport him to Scotland, there
to suffer for alleged misdemeanours, he was to be
removed from Morpeth for Scotland on the morrow,
and requesting her immediately to come and see
him. “When I opened the letter,” she says, “he
had that expression, ‘Deep calleth unto deep,’ &c.
But He [God] was pleased to send home that word,
‘Good is the word of the Lord,’ which silenced
much my misbelief.” On receiving the letter, she
proceeded without delay to Morpeth, riding, along
with a man servant, through a deep storm of snow,
and arrived at an inn in Morpeth after midnight.
Not being allowed access to her husband till the
morning, she sat, during the remainder of the night,
at the fire side; and when admitted to him, she
could not speak to him but in the presence of a guard
of soldiers, who were that night placed in the room
to watch him, lest he should make his escape. Nor
had she been long with him, when, the kettle-drums
beating the troops presently to arms, he was sepa-
rated from her, and being carried out to the streets,
was set on horseback, in the midst of the soldiers,
(the town’s people, from curiosity, running to gaze,)
and brought to Alnwick, thence to Belford, thence
to Berwick, and after being kept there for some
time, was carried to Edinburgh, where he was
thrown into prison. “All these things,” says she,
“were against me, and conspired to frighten me;
but that word being set home, wonderfully supported
me, ‘Fear then not the fear of man, but let the
Lord be your fear and your dread,’ Is. viii. 12, 13.
I went after to a friend’s house in the town, and
wept my fill, and some friends with me. He de-
sired that a day might be kept, [for offering up
prayers in his behalf,] which was done in several
places of the country. I went home to my children,
having one upon the breast. I was under much
exercise about him, and it was my suit to Him who,
I can say, is a present help in the time of trouble,
that he might be kept from the evil of sin; which


He was graciously pleased to answer.” The con-
eluding sentence of this quotation, though very
humbly and unostentatiously expressed, breathes a
spirit of noble christian fortitude—the holy heroism
of the martyr. So strong was her sense of the para-
mount claims of duty, that to witness her husband
undergoing his present hardships, and even crueler
treatment, however painful to natural affection, was
less painful to her than would have been the sight
of his doing, from motives of worldly ease, aught
which God and conscience would condemn.
As a farther aggravation of the distressing eir-
cumstauces into which she and her children were at
this time reduced, it may be added that, being con-
ducted to Edinburgh jail at his own expense, Mr.
Veitch was under the necessity of selling his stock
for money to bear his charges, and, “ by so doing, to
lay his farm lea, rendering it presently useless to his
family, yea, so disabled, as the way-going crop was
lost, in which sad posture he left them ; the children
young, insensible of the matter, and unfit to do for
themselves, so that the whole burden was laid on
the mother.”
To the extracts made from Mrs. Veitch’s Diary
during this period of trial, we may add the interesting
record left by Mr. Veitch, of her distressful feelings
and her faith in God under it, which proves that she
was, as he expresses it, “a meet helper for him indeed,
in this very case.” “Trouble and anguish,” says
he, “ did now compass her about in this darkest hour
of her twelve years’ night of affliction. Her soul
melteth for heaviness and grief; she is now in deep
waters in a foreign land, far from her relations, friends,
and acquaintances ; distress and desolation at home,
and destruction and death abroad; the sad report
whereof, with trembling, she expects every day,
because of the fury of the oppressor. This puts her
‘on a most serious exercise, and firm resolution to
take God for all. He should be the husband, and
he should be the farm; he should be the stock and
the crop; he should be the provider, the food, and
the raiment, the master of the family, and the father
of the children; yea, she resolved to cleave faster
unto this relation than Ruth did to Naomi, for that
which parted them should bring her to the greatest
nearness, most inseparable and comfortable com-
munion with her God. Thus, while deep called unto
deep, she held by her compass, and followed the
precedents of the word. Her prayer was in this
night to the God of her life, and, Jacob-like, she
gave it not over till she got a new lease of her hus-
band’s life granted her; which, when she obtained,
she wrote an encouraging letter to him at Berwick,
(the weaning of her child Sarah not suffering her



MRS. WILLIAM VEITCH.
73


F?
yet to visit him,) telling him that he should be like
Isaac, with the knife at his throat, near to death;
but the Lord would find a sacrifice, and the enemy
should be restrained. She wished him also not to
be anxious about his family, for the meal and the
oil, little as it was, should not fail ; not only till he
returned, but also the kingdom to Israel. These
instances, so clearly and convincingly borne in upon
her, gave her good ground to say with the psalmist,
‘ Thy word is my comfort in all my afflictions ;’ her
prayers and pleadings were turned to praises, and
his statutes were her ‘songs in the house of her
pilgrimage,’ and she was persuaded that her night
would yet have a day succeeding it, wherein he
would, as a special favour to her and her family,
command his lovingkindness.”
Under all her sufferings, Mrs. Veitch uniformly
speaks in a chastened and subdued tone of those
by whom they were inflicted; nor did she yield to
that bitterness and exultation of spirit which the
human heart is so naturally inclined to cherish, at
witnessing or hearing of the calamities or judgments
which may light on an enemy. Within five days
after Mr. Veitch’s transportation from Morpeth to
Edinburgh, one of the most virulent of his persecu-
tors, Mr. Bell, formerly referred to,1 met with his
death in very appalling circumstances. On return-
ing home from Newcastle, he stopped at Pontiland,
and continued drinking there with the curate till
about ten o’clock at night, when he determined to
go home. The curate urged him, as the night was
dark and stormy, and the river Pent, which he had
to cross, was much swollen, to remain till to-morrow;
and, to detain him, took his watch from him, and
locked up his horse in the stable. But, as if im-
pelled by some unseen power to his fate, he would
not be persuaded, and, getting his horse, proceeded
on his journey. Two days after he was found stand-
ing dead up to the arm-pits in the river Pont, near
the side, the violence of the frost having frozen him
in. His hat and his gloves were on, and his boots
and gloves were much worn from his struggles among
the ice to get out. Mrs. Veitch’s reflections on
this awful visitation are christian and becoming :—
“The whole country about was astonished at that
dispensation, and often said to me there would none
trouble my husband again :—for they all knew that
he was an enemy to my husband. I told them they
that would not take warning from the word of God,
would never take warning from that. That Scrip-


1 When Mr. Veitch was removed from Morpeth for Edinburgh,
Bell said, “This night he will be at Edinburgh, and banged to-
morrow, according to his demerits; and how could such a rebel as
he, who did so and so, expect to escape the just judgment of God? ” _
ture was often borne in upon my spirit, ‘Rejoice
not at the fall of thine enemy, lest He see it and be
displeased.’ ” She adds, “I bless the Lord I was
not in the least lifted up with it ; for his word was
my counsellor : in all my doubts and fears it was as
refreshing to me as ever meat and drink were. There
are none that study to make the word of God the
rule of their walk, and when grace is master of the
house, but they will say, as David said when Shimei
railed on him, ‘Let him alone, God hath bidden
him, who knows but he will requite blessings for
cursings?’ But when corrupt nature is master, it
will say, ‘Cut off the head of the dog;’ but I am
much in grace’s debt; that kept me back from being
of Shimei’s frame.” In reference to another case of
ill treatment received, she makes similar remarks, “ I
vbless the Lord who kept me from being of a revenge~
ful spirit. Whatever I met with from the creature,
He helped me always to look to God. That was often
upon my spirit which David said, ‘Let him alone,
God hath bidden him,’ and that word in the Psalms,
‘Fret not thyself, because of evil doers.’ ”
About the close of February, or the beginning of
March, 167 9, a month after Mr. Veitch was carried
from Morpeth to Scotland, and when he was lying
a prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, she set
out, with a heavy heart, for Edinburgh, through a
great storm of snow, in compliance with a letter she
received from him, leaving her children behind her.
On reaching the capital, she was much relieved on
finding that there was every prospect of his being
set at liberty. But within a few days he was put
in close prison, and an order came from the king to
hand him over to the justiciary court, that intima-
tion might be made to him of the sentence of death
for high treason, which had been pronounced against
him in his absence nearly twelve years before.
This threw her into a state of great agitation of
mind. Providence now seemed to contradict the
assurance she thought she had received from God,
that Mr. Veitch’s life would be preserved. But by
faith and prayer, her usual refuge in the hour of
trial, her fears were gradually allayed, and she
became settled in her previously cherished hope,
that matters would be so ordered as to secure his
personal safety. Nor were her hopes disappointed.
About the close of July, Mr. Veitch was liberated,
by virtue of the king’s pardon, indulgence, and
indemnity. “When the news came to my ears,”
says she, “that word came in my mind, ‘He hath
both spoken it, and himself hath done it; I will
walk softly in the bitterness of my spirit all my
days,’ Isa. 15.” She adds, “ We came both
home in peace to our children, where we lived
K


74
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





at Stantonhall, three miles from Morpeth, in Nor-
thumberland, August, 1679.” 1 This sore trial had
now come to an end, but it did not leave them in
outward circumstances equally favourable with
those in which it found them, having involved them
in a heavy debt. Owing to the forfeiture of Mr.
Veitch, and to their repeated removals from one place
to another, occasioned by the prelates and their
emissaries, they were unable to defray the expenses
incurred in this business without borrowing con-
siderable sums of money from their friends.
In addition to her other virtues, Mrs. Veitch was
distinguished for kind-hearted hospitality. In those .
distressing times, when oppression compelled our
Presbyterian ancestors to “Wander in deserts and in
mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth,” her
house, both during the period of her residence in
Scotland and in England, “ was a resting and refresh-
ing place for the wandering and weather-beaten flock
of Christ.” The same womanly and Christian kind-
ness, which prompted her cordially to receive into
her house the officers of the Covenanters after their
defeat at Pentland Hills, and to set meat and drink
laefore them, led her cordially to welcome, and kindly
to entertain, those friends and acquaintances who,
when hunted like wild beasts by their persecutors,
sought refreshment and a hiding place under her
roof ; and it was her observation “ that things never
came in so plentifully, nor went so far, as when they
had most strangers.” Among those who betook
themselves for shelter to her hospitable dwelling
was the Earl of Argyll, who suffered in 1685. At
the close of December, 1681, that nobleman, having,
on the 20th of that month, escaped from the castle
of Edinburgh, where he lay imprisoned under a sen-
tence of death, directed his course to Stantonhall,
with the view of being conducted on his way to
London by Mr. Veitch, whose intrepidity, shrewd-
ness, and fidelity peculiarly recommended him for
such a service. On Argyll’s arrival, Mr. Veitch
being from home, Mrs. Veitch sent some of her
servants or friends about the country for two days
in search of him; and on his return, she consented
to allow him to do his best in conducting their
respected noble friend in safety to London.
Some weeks after Mr. Veitch’s arrival in the Eng-
lish capital, she received a letter from him, informing
her that he had some thoughts of emigrating to
Carolina, a scheme of planting a Scottish colony
there having been formed by Sir John Cochrane and
several others; that he had the prospect of good
encouragement in a temporal respect, as well as of



enjoying without disturbance that civil and religious
freedom which was denied them in their native land ;
and that she might be making preparations for leav-
ing Scotland. To this proposal she at first felt a
strong disinclination. Driven though she was from
place to place, and exposed to many annoyances and
hardships, yet, to leave the land of her fathers at her
advanced period of life-for she was now in the
forty-fourth year of her age—and more especially to
leave a land which, like Judea to the Jews, was
endeared to her by the most sacred associations—-
which God had honoured by taking into covenant
with himself, and to encounter the perils of the
ocean and all the dangers and ditficulties attending
a new settlement in the forests of America, was a
step to which she was averse from sentiments of
patriotism as well as from natural feeling. But, sub~
mitting her will to the will of God, she at last became
less disinclined, and stood prepared to go wherever
He in his providence might call her. “ I thought,”
says she, “ in my old days I could have no heart for
such a voyage, and leave these covenanted lands;
but at length I got submission to my God and was
content, if he had more service for me and mine in
another land; for I had opened my mouth and given
me and mine to him and his service when and where,
and what way he pleased, and I could not go back;
but if I went there, I would hang my harp upon the
willows when I remembered Scotland.” Obstacles
were, however, thrown in the way of this plantation7
so that it was never formed; and she had the plea-
sure of seeing Mr. Veitch return home, after an
absence of about half a year.
But her troubles were not yet brought to a termi-
nation. A discovery of the Ryehouse plot, in which
Mr. Veitch had been concerned when in London,
having been made,1 a justice of the peace came to the
house to apprehend him. He narrowly escaped, and,
after hiding himself for some weeks, succeeded in
getting over to Holland. At this time Mrs. Veitch
fell sick, but was not long in recovering. To com-
plete the education of her two eldest sons, she sent
them over to their father in Holland. lVhile at sea
they encountered a severe storm, by which many lives
were lost, but they got safe to land, though with
much difficulty. Meanwhile she was deprived by
death of her third son, a boy of twelve years of age.
Her sorrow under this bereavement, though aggra-
vated by the absence of his father, was mitigated
from the striking evidence afforded by the dying
child that he died in the Lord. Previously thought-
less, and without any appearance of religion, he

1 Memoirs of Mrs. Veitch, p. 6. She says 1680, by mistake.
1 It was discovered in June, 1683.




MRS. WILLIAM vErrcH. 75





seemed to her, even sometime after his illness com-
menced, not to be duly impressed with the awful
importance of death and eternity. Anxious and
trembling for the safety of his soul, she was earnest
in prayer that God would wean his young and tender
heart from the world, open his eyes to see the
glories of heaven, and discover to him his interest
in the Saviour. Her prayers were heard. . One day,
calling her to his bedside, he told her that the world
to him had lost its attractions, and that: he was
resigned to die. She asked the reason of this, since
he had formerly felt a desire to live. He answered
that he had been praying, and giving himself to
Christ; that Christ had assured him of the delight
he took in his soul; and that this had comforted
him. Afterwards he said, “ Is it not a wonder that
Jesus Christ should have died for sinners? Oh, this
is a good tale, and we should think often on it i ”
He frequently repeated these words, “ Whom have
I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth
that I desire besides thee?” “which,” says Mrs.
Veitch, “refreshed me more than if he had been
made heir of a great estate.” When engaged in
prayer a little before he died, he prayed for his
absent father and brothers, pleaded that his brothers
and sisters might be animated to serve God in their
generation, and used these words, “Though we be
far separated now, I hope we shall meet in glory.”
Also calling for his brother who was at home and his
sisters, he blessed them all, and bade them farewell.
On becoming unable to speak, he held up his hand
while his mother spoke to him of death and heaven.
At last he put up his own hand and closed his own
eyes, “ and so,” says she, “we parted in hope of a
glorious meeting.”
The deep anxiety which Mrs. Veitch felt for the
spiritual welfare of her children, is an interesting
and instructive feature of her character. Nor was
this anxiety limited to those seasons when sickness
entered her dwelling, and threatened to remove by
death the objects of her tenderest affection. As
became a christian mother, the spiritual interests of
her children were to her a source of constant soli-
eitude. Before they were born she devoted them
to God, and she renewed the dedication at their
baptism. She early instructed them in the things
of God, and often recommended them to him by
prayer. It was her highest ambition to see them
living the life of the righteous, and to engage them
to such a life, she plied them with arguments ad- l
dressed both to their hopes and their fears, to their
understandings and their hearts. “When I was
pouring out my spirit before Him in prayer,” she
says, in one part of her Diary, “He brought that
word wonderfully to my mind, where the angel
appeared to Cornelius, (Acts x.,) and bade him send
for Peter, who would tell him words by which he
and all his house should be saved. He opened
mine eyes and let me see that which I had never
seen before so clearly—that Christ’s death and
blood could reach a whole family. . . . . This
gave me new ground to plead the promise for me
and mine, and that the sign I sought from him
‘might be accomplished, that they might evidence
I by their practice they were his, and my eyes might
see it.” In another part of the same document,
' she farther says, “I charge all mine, as they shall
answer to God at the great day, and as they would
not have me to be a witness against them in that
day, that ye covenant yourselves away to God and
his service, and plead the good of this promise 1 in
particular, every one of you for yourselves; for all
I can do for you cannot merit heaven for you : for
with the heart man believes, and every man is saved
by his own faith. All my desire is, that He would
glorify himself by redeeming me and mine from hell
and wrath, and make us useful in our generation
. for his glory. I thought fit to write this for my own
use and the good of mine; and, if the Lord should
take me from them by death, I hope the words of a
dying mother shall have some weight upon their
spirits.”
During the time of Mr. Veitch’s stay in Holland,
the entries in Mrs. Veitch’s Diary relate chiefly to her
anxiety about him, and to her distress of mind on
account of the condition of the church in Scotland,
whose sufferings seem to have more deeply affected
her heart than even her own personal afflictions.
After relating some news she heard from Scotland,
and her exercise thereupon, she adds, “Within a little
misbelief got the mastery of me, and it told me I need
not expect to see good days. This was occasioned
by the apostacy of some, and the persecutors being
. permitted to run all down before them, as it were. I
could sleep little or none for several nights.” When
i recording the death of Charles II. she writes as fol-
jlows:——“ When I heard it, I thought Pharaoh was
I dead, and I would go to God and beg of him that he
would spirit a Moses to lead forth the church from
“ under her hard bondage ;” and, after referring to some
;passages of scripture which were impressed upon
f her mind, she observes that she was thereby made
i to “ hope that God would not leave these covenanted
lands, especially Scotland.”
j Meanwhile, a considerable number of English and



1 The promise she refers to is, “ I will be your God, and the God
of your seed,” which she had been pleading with God, and which,
by his grace, he had enabled her to embrace.



76
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




Scottish refugees in Holland, encouraged by friends
both in England and Scotland, were forming a scheme
for overthrowing by force the government of James
VIL, who was resolutely bent 011 establishing abso-
lute power in the state and popery in the church.
The Duke of Monmouth was to invade England, and
the Earl of Argyll, Scotland. The scheme being ma-
tured, Mr. Veitch, who was one of the party, was sent
from Holland to N orthumberland and the Scottish
borders, to give their friends information of their
intentions; in doing which, the matter, through his
activity in travelling from place to place, and through
the zeal of numbers in many quarters to rise, was in
danger of being divulged, so that he was forced to
retire to the mountains, in the borders near Reeds-
dale-head, and hide himself, nor did he deem it
safe to go to Newcastle, whither his wife had
removed in 1684‘, till some time after the execution
of the Earl of Argyll and the Duke of Monmouth.1
On the arrival of Argyll in Scotland, and of Men-
mouth in England, Mrs. Veitch hoped that, perhaps,
the time had now come for the deliverance of the
church, and that these noblemen might be the ap-
pointed and honoured instruments of effecting it; but,
that ill conducted undertaking proving unsuccessful,
these agreeable expectations were not realized, and
she felt in some measure dispirited. “It was my
desire,” she says, “that He would make good his
word, on which he had caused me to hope in behalf
of the church ; for I thought possibly this might be
the time of building his house. But his thoughts
are not like mine; for it pleased Him who gives no
account of his matters, to let both these great per-
sons fall before the enemy, which put me to pour
out my spirit before Him, and often to charge my
soul to be silent, for my ill heart and misbelief were
like to quarrel with him.” The tendency to quarrel
with God, which she expresses herself as feeling at
the disastrous issue of this attempt, need occasion
little surprise; for although the enlightened friend
of freedom will not now regret that such was its
issue, providence having, not long after, without
struggle or bloodshed, brought about a more effectual
and permanent deliverance than could have been
expected by its success ; yet, at that time, the defeat
of the enterprise was in no small degree discouraging
to many of the Covenanters, as it seemed to demon-
strate the hopelessness of any efforts to throw off
that oppressive yoke, under which their powers of
endurance were well nigh exhausted, and‘ even
r
1 The Earl of Argyll was taken on the 17th of June, 1685, and
executed on the 30th of that month. The Duke of Monmouth was
taken on the 8th of July, 1685, and executed on the 15th of that
month.

l
threatened to rivet the chains of slavery and popery
more firmly on Britain than ever.
Still she never despaired of the deliverance of the
church and nation, and even cherished the hope of
living to see it accomplished. On one occasion after
the fatal result of this insurrection, at a social meet-
ing for prayer and conference held in her house at
Newcastle, where, besides her husband, there were
present some of his pious Scottish relations, and
also some other good people of the town of New-
castle, after several had spoken in an almost despair-
ing tone of the state of matters, she expressed her
confident hope that good days were still awaiting
Scotland. She said that the night was indeed dark,
and that all things were a dismal aspect, but that
she was, notwithstanding, persuaded that God would
not leave his own work, but from an unexpected quar-
ter would raise up instruments to build his house, to
restore the ark and the glory, and bring home his
captives. She added, moreover, that she felt as-
sured she would see Presbytery established, and her
husband a settled minister in the Church of Scotland,
before she died. “ Though they loved the thing,”
says Mr. Veitch, “ yet they little believed it in the
time; but when it came to pass, they both thought and
talked much of it.” From the danger he was in of
.being apprehended, Mr. Veitch only visited her occa-
sionally from the time he came from Holland, early
in 1685, till his settlement as a minister at Beverley,
near 100 miles south from Newcastle, after King
J ames’s Declaration for liberty of conscience in
England, when, with her family, she removed to
that part of the country.
When Mr. Veitch was called to Beverley, she
felt some reluctance to settle in that place, from
the strong desire she had to see the restoration of
the Church to prosperity in the land of her birth, and
that her husband might in some degree he instru-
mental in promoting it there; though, at last, she
submitted her inclinations to the determinations of
providence, if he could be more useful in that place
than in another. But when, after having preached for
six or seven months in Beverley, with much success,
he received pressing invitations to return to Scotland,
where king J ames’s toleration had been accepted,
she was extremely desirous that he should comply
with these invitations, though the people of Bever-
ley had sent for her, given her good offers, and used
many arguments to persuade her and him to stay
with them. “Her heart,” says Mr. Veitch, “was
for her native country, and she longed to see that
in the performance which she had promised her-
self formely in her duties and wrestling with God,
and had expressed her assurance thereof.” She,


MRS. WILLIAM VEITCH.
77


however, apprehended that the design in view, in
the toleration extended to Scotland, as well as in
that granted to England, was under the' disguise of
benefiting dissenters, to afford relief to papists, and
ultimately to pave the way for the establishment of
popery. “ Considering it came from a popish king,”
she writes, “ made me fear what the issue might be.”
On the compliance of Mr. Veitch with a call he
received from the united parishes of Oxnam, Crail-
ing, Eckford, Linton, Morebattle, and Hownam, to
preach to them, under king J ames’s third indul-
gence, at Whittonhall, which was almost the centre
of these parishes,‘ she returned with great joy to
her native land. “But,” says she, “His promise
to me for His Church in Scotland, was not yet alto-
gether performed. I was like Haman, (Esther v.
13,) all availed me little so long as I saw popery
owned by authority. I thought that then the ark
was still in the house of Obed-edom; it was my
desire He would spirit some to bring it to J crusa-
lem.” She had not, however, been much more than
half a year in Scotland, when James VII. was driven
from his throne, and William, Prince of Orange,
was called to fill it, a revolution which, by more
narrowly circumscribing and more exactly defining
the prerogatives of the crown than had been done
in any former period of the history of our country,
conferred on the subjects a degree of liberty they
never before had enjoyed, defeated the design of
restoring popery, overthrew prelacy in Scotland,
and brought to a termination the sufferings of the
Presbyterians for conscience’ sake.
After the Revolution she resided first in Peebles,
and next in Dumfries, in which places Mr. Veitch
was successively minister. In the last of these towns
she died in May, 1722, at the advanced age of eighty-
four. Mr. Veitch died on the day after her death,
having completed his eighty-second year. Mr. James
Guthrie, minister of Irongray, in a letter to Mr.
James Stirling, minister of Barony, Glasgow, dated
May 9, 1722, says, “Your honest old friend, Mr.
Veitch, is now gone to heaven, for he died yesterday
morning, and his good wife departed this life on
Friday last, so that they who lived long together on
earth are now gone to glory, I may say, together
also. . . . . Mr. Veitch, for some months before his
death, wanted the use of his tongue, right arm and
leg, and so lay almost as one dead long before he
gave up the ghost.” 2 This venerable pair had been
married fifty-eight years, and they were both interred
on the same day, in the old church of Dumfries.


We shall conclude this sketch with a few particu-
lars relative to Mrs. Veitch’s children. She had five
sons and five daughters. Of these four died young.
Mary, her first child, was born on the 23d of Sep-
tember, 1665, at the I/Vesthills of Dunsyre, died
March 9, 1666, and was buried at Dunsyre kirk.
William, her second child, was born on the 2d of
April, 1667, at the I/Vesthills of Dunsyre. Samuel,
her third son, was born on the 9th of December,
1668, at Edinburgh, and baptized on the 13th by
Mr. John Blackadder. These two sons she had
devoted to the christian ministry, and sent to Hol-
land to prosecute their studies at the university of
Utrecht; but the young men expressed their decided
preference for the military profession, and, when the
Prince of Orange came over to England, in 1688,
they held commissions under him. Both of them
served in Flanders during the war with France,
which broke out after the Revolution. William was
a lieutenant in Angus’s or the Cameronian regiment,
and was wounded, in 1699, at the battle of Stein-
kirk. He was shot through the left cheek an inch
below the eye, and the ball falling into his mouth,
he spat it out. The two brothers afterwards went
out as captains of the forces of the Scottish colony,
which it was intended to settle at the Isthmus of
Darien. But the settlement came to a disastrous
termination. Captain William died at sea on return-
ing home after the evacuation. Captain Samuel
ultimately settled at New York, where he married a
granddaughter of Mr. John Livingstone, minister of
Ancrum, by whom he had a daughter called Aleda,
who married an American gentleman of the name of
Pinkrie, near Philadelphia.
James, her fourth child, was born at Edinburgh
on the 9th of March, 1671, died at Arnistoum, on
the 10th of April, 1672, and was buried in the church-
yard of Temple on the 12th of that month.
John, her fifth child, was born at Falalies, in the
parish of Rothbury, in Northumberland, on the 19th
of July, 167 2 ; died at Stantonhall about Martinmas,
16844, and was buried at Nether IVilton, four miles
from Morpeth. This is the boy of whose death an
account has previously been given.1
Elizabeth, her sixth‘ child, was born at Harnam,
in the parish of Bolam, in Northumberland, on the
20th of May, 1674. She was married to David
MacCulloch of Ardwell, on the 7th of June, 1710.
at Dumfries.
Ebenezer, her seventh son, was born at Harnam,
on the 16th of March, 167 6. Devoting himself to
the christian ministry, he studied divinity under the
learned Mr. George Campbell, professor of theolog
1 He entered on this charge in April, 1688.
2 Letters to Wodrow, vol. 1:. no, no. 172, MSS. in Advocates’
Library.
18cc pp. 74, 75.



78 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.



in the college of Edinburgh. After being licensed, ‘
he was appointed Sabbath morning lecturer in the
Tron church, upon Mr. M‘Alla’s mortification. This
situation he left in May 1703, having received a call
to be minister of Ay r,to which charge he was ordained
on the 12th of that month. He soon after married
Margaret, daughter of the venerable Mr. Patrick
“Turner, minister of Irvine, a young lady of great
personal attractions. But he did not long survive.
\Vhen at Edinburgh attending the commission, in
December 1706, he was seized with a dangerous
sickness, and died on the 13th of that month. He
was a young man of uncommon piety, and his death
was triumphant. Calling his wife to his bedside, he
told her he would give her the parting kiss, and recom-
mended her to his God, “who,” he said, “has been
all in all to me ;” and when she asked him whether
him, It was a terror to her to hear him so much upon
death; but he said it was none to him: so he lived
desired, and died lamented.”
Sarah, her eighth child, and third daughter, was
born at Stantonhall, in the parish of Longhorsly
in Northumberland, on the 7th of November, 167 7.
She became the wife of James Young, of Guilichill,
from whom, says Dr. M‘Crie, writing in 1825, Samuel
Denholm Young, Esq. of Guiliehill, is descended.
Agnes, her ninth child, and fourth daughter, was
born at Stantonhall, on the 20th of January, 1680.
She married Mr. John Somerville, minister of Caer-
laverock; to whom she had six children, one son
and five daughters. Mr. Charles Sheriff, the dumb
miniature painter, was her grandson. She died of
her 7th child, not brought to bed, on the 14th of
August, 1712; and when medical assistance failed

he would not desire to live with her, and serve God
some time longer in the church below, he answered 1
in the negative. Then calling out to some of the
ministers who were in the room with him, he said,
“ Ye passengers for glory, how near, think you, am I
to the New Jerusalem?” One of them answered,
“Not far, Sir l” He rejoined, “ I’ll wait and climb
until I be up amongst that innumerable company of
angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.”
They removed his wife out of the room; but when
he was just expiring, she rushed in to the bedside.
IVaving with his hand, he said, “ No more converse
with the creature, I never, never will look back
again ;” and immediately breathed out his spirit into
the hands of his redeeming God. His mother, who
gives this account in her Diary, adds, “It need not
be a surprisal to me, for near a year before his death,
he preached upon these words, ‘Remember, Lord,
how short my time is z’ and when he was at home in
to do her any good, she said, “ Now, I see God calls
me to die and leave this world, and all my relations,
which I am most willing to do.” Then taking fare-
well, with the greatest composure and deliberation,
of her parents, children, servants, and husband,
leaving her blessing to every one present, and to all
her friends who were absent, with her eyes lifted up
to heaven, she cried, “O my beloved! be thou as a
roe and as a young hart upon the mountains of divi-
sions.” . Then she begged that her friends present
would unite in praying that God would mitigate her
sufferings in passing through the dark valley, and
land her in her wished-for port. Before prayer was
ended, her pain was abated, and closing her eyes, a
little after, with her own hand, she died with great
tranquillity.
Janet, her tenth child, and fifth daughter, was
born on the 30th of January, 1682, at Stantonhall,
her father being then at London. She died on


1 Sabbath, the 26th of March, 1693, near eight
I o’clock at night, at Peebles. Before her death, her
: father having been engaged in prayer, she said,
: “ Now, I am content to leave you all,” and inquired
' at her mother whether they should know one another
in heaven? Her mother told her she thought they
: would, and asked her if she thought she would win
there; to which she answered, “I hope I shall.”
She died without any pain; and with as much com-
posure as if she had been going to see a friend,
kissing her father, mother, and sisters, and bidding
them all farewell.

his family in Ayr, in prayer he would be so trans-
ported with the joys of heaven, as if he would have
flown away; and his young wife1 would often say to
1 This lady was afterwards married to Mr. Robert Wodrow,
minister of Eastwood, the indefatigable Historian of the sufferings
of the Church of Scotland. The marriage ring presented to her
both by her first and second husband are still preserved as family
relics. “ How it has so happened,” says a writer in the Edinburgh
Christian instructor, for December, 1825, “ we shall not at present
tell ; but so it is, that we have, while writing this article, actually
rm our forefinger the identical ring which Mr. Ebenezer Veitch
presented to his wife, previous to marriage. It is a plain gold one,
with small ivory beads around its outer edge, and within is this
Latin inscription, which we have some difficulty in translating
intelligibly. \Ye give it verbatim et Iz'teratim as we see it, and leave
our readers to make what they can of it, ‘Ebenezer, et Jehovah,
Feitc/r.’ The sense which we conjecture is not very luminously
conveyed, but it seems to savour of the eminent piety of its author.
The ring presented to the same lady, by Mr. Wodrow, her second
husband, is also now before us, and its moral is more intelligible.
The device is a flaming heart in the centre, with a hand on the one
side giving, and another on the other side receiving; and this
plain English motto: ‘I give you mine and grasp at yours.’ ” The
writer adds, “ From these specimens, we see that the clerical gentle-
men of our olden times, while they were not destitute of learning,
were not devoid of the tender affections.”




you, but your ladyship will have it more perfectly


MRS. JOHN LIVINGSTONE, &0.

MRS. LIVINGSTONE, whose maiden name was Janet
Fleming, was the eldest daughter of Bartholomew
Fleming, merchant in Edinburgh, by his wife Marion
Hamilton. She was married, June 23, 1635, to the
famous Mr. John Livingstone, afterwards minister
of Ancrum, by his father, in the-West church of
Edinburgh.1 In the following notices respecting
this lady, it is not our intention to trace the whole
of her history, but merely to select a single chapter
from her life, relating to matters which fell out in
the year 1674, when she was considerably advanced
in years. Previous to this period, she had experi-
enced many vicissitudes and trials, having shared
in the hardships endured by Mr. Livingstone, in
the cause of nonconformity, both in Ireland and in
Scotland; and when, on his being banished his
Majesty’s dominions, by the privy council, for his
fidelity to the same cause, he had embarked for
Holland, in the beginning of April, 1663, she fol-
lowed him in December that year, taking with her
two of her children, and leaving the other five in
Scotland. She remained in Holland till the death
of Mr. Livingstone, which took place in August,
167 2, when she returned to Scotland. Mr. Robert
M‘VVard, writing from Rotterdam to Lady Ken-
mure, says, “ Madam, it’s like you will look for some
account of the death of that great man of God, non~
such Mr. Livingstone, which I would have given
from his worthy relict, by whom you will he waited
upon.” 2 On her return to Scotland, she took up
I
her residence in Edinburgh, where two of her sons
were resident. It was within less than two years
after her return that she, and several other Pres-
byterian ladies, were concerned in those transacw
tions which we now purpose to rehearse. Our nar-
rative relates to a petition which she and these
ladies drew up and presented to the lords of
his majesty’s privy council, praying for liberty to
enjoy undisturbed the preaching of the gospel by
the nonconforming ministers; and to the proceed-
ings of the privy council against these ladies on
that account. This will furnish a good illustra~
tion of the patriotic interest taken by the ladies

,-f

1 Livingstone’s Life Written by Himself.
2 Wodrow M55 , vol. Iii-iii., folio, no. 55.
of that period in the cause of suffering nonconfor-
mity, as well as of the determination of the govern-
ment to ride rough-shod over every attempt to obtain
a mitigation or redress of grievances.
The state of matters in which this petition origi-
nated, may be briefly described. For about three
months in the early part of the year 1674, an almost
entire cessation from persecution took place. During
this respite, which was called “the Blink,” the pro-
scribed ministers, fearing that it would be of short
duration, preached both in private houses, and in the
fields, with unremitting and ardent zeal. In the west,
field meetings were not of very frequent occurrence,
the indulgence of 167 2, which extended chiefly to
that part of the country, rendering such meetings
unnecessary; but in Fifeshire, Perthshire, Stirling-
shire, Dumbartonshire, Lothian, Merse, Teviotdale,
Annandale, Nithsdale, and other places, to which the
indulgence did not extend, or where it was more
limited in its operation, they were very frequently
held in mountains, mosses and moors, and attended by
immense multitudes. This liberty was owing not to
any change in the spirit or policy of the governnn-ent,
but solely to political causes, among which the chief
causewas the animosities then existing between the
different parties of statesmen. Lauderdale, who had
now for a considerable time been a privy counsellor
in England, and the chief manager of affairs in
Scotland, had, by his intolerable arrogance, and
more especially by his violent and tyrannical adminis-
tration, created a powerful opposition against him,
both in England and in Scotland. So strong was
the faction against him in Scotland, which was
headed by the Duke of Hamilton, that when he came
down as his majesty’s commissioner to hold the
‘Scottish parliament, which was to meet in March,
1674, finding it would be difficult or impossible for
him to maintain his ground in it, he adjourned it to
October, but never after ventured upon another
Scottish Parliament. To this state of political
parties in Scotland, we are mainly to trace the
tranquillity enjoyed during “the Blink.” Lauder-
dale secretly encouraged conventicles, promising the
persecuted ministers ample and unrestrained liberty,
that he might blame his opponents to the king, as
encouragers of these “seminaries of rebellion ;” and
on the other hand his opponents connived at such


80
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



meetings, that they might impute the prevalence of
them to him. But matters changed upon a sudden;
the tempest of persecution again rose into fury.
On his return to London, after the adjournment of
the Scottish parliament, Lauderdale, who, notwith-
standing the opposition made to him both in England
and in Scotland, retained the royal favour, laid the
blame of the conventicles held in Scotland upon his
opponents. The Scottish privy council was remo-
delled according to his wishes, the most of his
enemies being kept out, and others friendly to him
put in their places; and by his advice, letters from
the king to the council, followed each other in
succession, requiring them to adopt every means for
suppressing conventicles. On the 4th of June,
1674, when the new council met for the first time,
a letter from his majesty, dated May 19th, was
read, complaining that not only private, but also
field conventicles were held, and that the pulpits of
the regular ministers were invaded in some places ;
and requiring the council to use their utmost
endeavours for apprehending and trying field preach-
ers, invaders of pulpits, and such heritors as were
ringleaders at field conventicles, and in pulpit inva-
sions, calling in the standing forces and militia to
their aid.
Such were the circumstances which gave rise to
this petition. Mrs. Livingstone, and a considerable
number of other Presbyterian ladies in Edinburgh,
especially the wives and widows of ejected noncon-
forming ministers, and some ladies of rank, were in
no small degree distressed at the threatened prospect
of renewed and aggravated persecution. Little could
they do to prevent the impending calamity. Prayer
to God was almost their only remaining resource.
But necessity is prolific in suggesting expedients,
and it occurred to some of them that, as it was dan-
gerous for ministers to petition the privy council for
the redress of their grievances, imprisonment being
the only answer likely to be made, they themselves
might petition the council for the undisturbed enjoy-
ment of the gospel preached by the nonconforming
ministers. Mrs. Livingstone, it is not improbable,
was the person by whom this expedient was sug-
gested. Precedents for such a course, of which she
was not ignorant, were not wanting in the history
of the Church of Scotland in former days. She well
knew that such a method had been adopted in similar
circum stances, and with perfect success, by a worthy
relative of her own, her aunt, Barbara Hamilton, 1


and other religious matrons of Edinburgh. When
Robert Blair, and other nonconforming ministers,
who had been deposed by the bishops of Ireland for
nonconformity, had come over to Scotland in 1637,
and when Mr. Blair was threatened with still harsher
treatment from the Scottish prelates, these ladies
presented to the privy council a petition, praying .
that he and other ministers similarly situated might
have liberty to preach the gospel publicly wherever
they were called or had opportunity to do so; and
they at once obtained their request.1 Guided by
such a laudable example, she and the rest of these
ladies made up their mind to make the attempt,
whatever might be its success; and accordingly,
without the aid of any of their ministers, or of any
man, they themselves drew up a petition to be pre-
sented to the privy council. The manner in which
they were to transmit it was somewhat similar to
the manner in which Barbara Hamilton and her asso-
ciates presented their petition to the privy council
in behalf of Robert Blair and the other noncon-
forming ministers of their time. On the morning
of the 4th of June, the day on which the first meet-
ing of the new council was to be held, all the ladies

1 Barbara Hamilton was Mrs. Livingstone’s mother’s sister, and
the wife of Mr. John Mein, merchant burgess, Edinburgh. Two of
Samuel Ruthcrford’s letters are addressed to this lady. She died
in September, 1654; and her husband, Mr. Mein, on the 30th of
July that same year. Among the debts owing to them at their
decease is, “ By my Lady Lorne, xxii lb. By my Lady Kenmure,
xii lb. 2 shillings.” Register of Confirmed Testaments in her Ma-
jesty’s Register House, Edinburgh.
1“ That worthy wife B. H. [Barbara Hamilton] brings to Mr.
Blair paper, pen, and ink, saying, ‘ Write a supplication to the
secret council, and humbly petition them in your own name, and in
the name and behalf of others in your condition, for liberty to preach
the gospel publicly, wherever ye get a call from honest ministers or
people, and we that are wives shall put it in the treasurer’s hand as
he goes in to the council.’ Whereunto Mr. Blair condescended, and
delivers his supplication, written with his own hand, to her. The
first council day immediately following, there convenes a great num-
ber of the religious matrons in Edinburgh, drawn up as a guard,
from the council house door to the street. They agreed to put the
supplication in the hand of the oldest matron, Alison Cockburn,
relict of Mr. Archibald Bow. When the treasurer, Traquair, per-
ceived the old woman presenting to him a paper, suspecting that it
was something that would not relish with the council, he did put
her by, and goes quickly from her towards the council house door ;
which being perceived by Barbara Hamilton, she appears and pulls
the paper out of the old weak woman’s hand, and coming up in
Traquair, did with her strong arm and big hand fast grip his gardie
[2‘. 6. arm] saying, ‘ Stand, my Lord, in Christ’s name, I charge you,
till I speak to you.’ He, looking back, replies, ‘ Good woman. what
would you say to me?’ ‘ There is,’ said she, ‘ a humble supplication
of Mr. Blair’s. All that he petitions for is, that he may have liberty
to preach the gospel, &c. I charge you to befriend the matter, as
you would expect God to befriend you in your distress, and at your
death!’ He replied, ‘ I shall do my endeavour, and what I can in
it.’ Mr. Blair’s supplication was granted by the secret council ; and
so he had liberty, not only to stay in Scotland, but to preach the
gospel to any congregation where he got an orderly call.” (Rew’s
Life of Robert Blair, pp. 153, 154.) Row adds, “ By this narration
you may perceive how the Lord, in this time, stirred up and ani-
mated the spirits, not only of men, especially of the nobles, who
were magnates at primores regm', and of the ministers of the gospel,
but even of holy and religious women, who, as they first opposed
the reading of that black service book, July 23, 1637, so the Lord
made them instrumental in many good affairs for the promoting of
the blessed Reformation.”



MRS. Jenn LIVINGSTONE, 8:0. 81





friendly to the petition were to assemble in the Par-
liament Close, some time before the members of
council came up to the meeting. Mrs. Livingstone,
in consideration either of her advanced years, or of
her superior address, or of both, was appointed to
present the petition to the Lord Chancellor, the
Earl of Rothes, and to request him to transmit it to
the council ; while fourteen other ladies, mostly minis-
ters’ widows, were engaged each to present a copy
to some one of the principal counsellors, as they
came up to the council house. According to this
arrangement, a large number of ladies‘ convened in
an


the Parliament Close on the morning of the 4th of
June, waiting the arrival of the counsellors. At
length the chancellor’s coach comes up first ; and
when he and Archbishop Sharp, who had been riding
with him in the coach, alighted, Mrs. Livingstone
was ready to accost him, and the crowd, eager to
witness the scene, gathered to the spot. Sharp,
who seems to have known nothing of the matter
beforehand, seized with a guilty terror, kept close to
the chancellor’s back,2 imagining, as was not un-
natural for a man to do who had now spent many years
in persecuting his old friends, the Presbyterians, and


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Mrs. Livingstone presenting the Petition to the Lord Chancellor.
who had incurred very general odium, that the object
of these ladies, whom he had often maligned as fana-
tics, and even by still worse names,3 was to murder
him. But his alarm was groundless; for though
some of them, becoming excited at the very sight of
the man with whom was associated, in their minds,
all tlZG infamy of the traitor and the persecutor,

bolder than the rest, laid her hand upon his neck,
and told him that ere all was done that neck would
pay for it ; there was no intention or attempt to do
him any bodily harm. 4 While these things are
going on, Mrs. Livingstone addressed herself to the
Chancellor, informing him of the object of so many
females in assembling together, and presenting to him
the petition, which she entreated him to lay before
called him Judas and traitor ; and one of them, still ;
1The number, according to Row, was 109 (Life of Robert Blair,
p_ 5:39;) but, as according to Kirkton, they “filled the whole Par- ,
History
. Galloway than to detain him among the fanatic Wives of Edinburgh.”
liament Close,” the number must have been much greater.
of the Kirk of Scotland, p. 345.
2 “ When the counsellors came out of their coaches, Sharp "who
was as fiyed as a for) elave close to the chancellor’s back.”—Rou"s
Life of Robert Blair, p. .
3 Female Presbyterians were the objects of Sharp’s peculiar hatred,
When, in 166.1, the privy council confined William Gordon of Earls-
ton to the town of Edinburgh for keeping conventicles and not
attending his own parish church, Sharp, who had been at St. An-
drews, on hearing of this on his arrival in Edinburgh, “did challenge
the chancellor for remissness, and not executing the laws against
delinquents, and, in particular, for confining of Earlston to Edin-
burgh, alleging it had been better to send him to his own house in
The consequence was that Earlston was banished out of Scotland.
(Row’s Life of Robert lllair, p. 464.) Even 11'! his public sermons
Sharp could not refrain from giving expression to his malignant
hatred of Presbyterian women. In his opening discourse, atone of his
diocesan synods at St. Andrews, he indulged in a strain of vehement
invective “ against the unconform honest people, especially against
women, whom he cali~d ‘ she zealots,’ ‘ Satancssesm Ibid., p. 523.
4 Kirk-ton’s History, pp. 3-H-3-i6.
L



82
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES OF


the honourable members of his majesty’s privy coun-
cil. The petition is as follows :—
“ Unto the Right Honourable the Lords of his
Majesty’s Privy Council—The Humble Sup-
plication of several ‘Women of the city of
Edinburgh, in their own name, and in the
name of many who adhere thereto,
“HUnBLY Snownrn,
“ That whereas your petitioners being
long deprived of the blessing of a faithful public
ministry, and of the purity of worship and ordi-
nances that God hath commanded, and after much
sad suffering for attendance thereupon in private;
yet for some short while bygone, and in the time ‘
when his majesty’s commissioner was amongst us,
your lordships’ petitioners have, without molestation,
enjoyed some small liberty by his Majesty’s gracious
connivance: yet now we are sadly alarmed, that
through the malicious and false information given in
by some of those who side with and serve the
bishops, your lordships may be induced, to the grief
of the hearts of many thousands in this land, to
trouble the quiet meetings of the Lord’s people at
his worship.
“ May it therefore please your lordships to grant
such liberty to our honest ministers, that are through
the land and in this city, that they may lawfully,
and without molestation, exercise their holy func-
tion, as the people shall in an orderly way call them;
that we may, to the comfort of our souls, enjoy the
rich blessing of faithful pastors, and that our pastors
may be delivered from any sinful compliance with
what is contrary to the known judgment of honest
Presbyterians. In doing whereof, your lordships
will do good service to God and the king’s majesty,
and deeply oblige all honest people in the land.
And your petitioners shall ever pray,” 8:0.‘
The Chancellor, respectfully taking off his hat,
graciously received the petition from Mrs. Living-
stone, and read it on the spot. After he had read
it, and had talked a short time with some of the
other ladies, jesting with them according to his
facetious manner, and apparently pleased with the
fright into which Sharp was thrown, Mrs. Living-
stone proceeded to address him in support of the
petition, “ and took hold of his sleeve. He bowed
down his head, and listened to hear, (because she
spoke well,) even till he came to the council cham-
ber door.” '’
.u

The other fourteen ladies, in like manner, pre-
sented copies of the petition to other members of
the privy council, as they passed to the council
chamber. The lady who presented her copy to
Lord Stairs, one of the senators of the college of
justice—a man who was formerly a zealous Covenan-
ter, but who became in the end a bitter persecutor—
found no such kind reception as Mrs. Livingstone
met with from the chancellor; for he rudely threw
it upon the ground, which made one remind him of
his having belonged at one time to the Remonstra-
tors, the strictest sect of the Presbyterians during
the commonwealth, and of his having penned the
Western Remonstrance, a paper, for adherence to
which, Mr. James Guthrie and others suffered to the
death.1
In the proceedings of Mrs. Livingstone and her



female associates, which we have now narrated, a
liberal government would have found little to blame,
and no cause whatever for adopting against these
ladies legal proceedings. Their intentions were
perfectly loyal; their petition in its object was
highly reasonable, and though containing a plain
declaration of their principles, was couched in very
moderate and respectful language. They assembled
in the Parliament Close in the most peaceable
manner ; and to none of the members of the council,
with the exception of Archbishop Sharp, did they
offer the slightest disrespect. But their lordships,
resolute on putting down all petitioning and repre-
sentation of grievances, which they well knew to be
one of the most effectual safeguards against mis-
government and oppression, arbitrarily pronounced
both the meeting and the petition seditious, and
proceeded against those concerned in them as guilty
of sedition.
The counsellors having got into the council house
through the crowd, the petition was read. Mean-
while the women were waiting in the Parliament
Close for an answer. But there was no intention
to grant them their request; and the Lord Provost,
with two bailies, were sent out to entreat them
peaceably to disperse and retire to their homes;
which if they did, he promised to befriend them and
their cause, and that their supplication should receive
an answer to-morrow. They did as the provost, who


1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 5269.
2Kirkton’s History, pp. 344-346. See also Wodrow’s History,
vol. ii, p. 269. Row, in his Life of Robert Blair, gives a different
account of the chancellor’s reception of the ladies’ petition. He
says that “ a grave matron,” namely M rs. Livingstone, ‘‘ presented
their supplication” to the chancellor, “ cntrcating that he would
present it to the council, but the chancellor slighting her, and
refusing the supplication, was forced to take it from some others
who thrust themselves in betwixt him and the trembling prelate,
promising it should be read and considcred.”—Row"s Life of Robert
Blair, p. 539.
1 Rirkton’s History, pp. 344-346. Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p-
269 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 46').


MRS. JOHN LIVINGSTONE, &c,
83

spoke to them very discreetly, desired them; the
Parliament Close was quickly cleared, and all was
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Old Parliament Close, Edinburgh.
again quiet, as if no crowd had assembled. At that
meeting of council, all the members were desired to
name such ladies as they knew to be among the
crowd. .A few were named, and they were summoned
to compear before the council at their next meeting,
which was to be held on the 11th of J unc. A com-
mittee was also appointed, to make inquiry into all
the circumstances connected with the petition, by
whom it was drawn up, and who had presented the
different copies to the members of council.I
On the 11th of June, the ladies summoned, who
were about a dozen, made their appearance at the
bar of the council. They were desired, previous to
their examination, to take the oath usually adminis-
tered; but this they all refused to do, not judging
that they were bound to tell “the whole truth,” in
reference to the petition. They however declared
in answer to questions put to them, that no man
had any hand in suggesting it or drawing it up, and
that they were moved to the course they had taken by
a sense of their starving and perishing condition,
through the want of the gospel, having none to
preach to them but ignorant and profane men, whom
they could not conscientiously hear. After being
examined, they were required to subscribe their de-
positions; but this also the most- of them refused to
lo. They were then dismissed, and required again to

compear before the council in the afternoon; which
they did, attended in the Parliament Close by a great
multitude, consisting not only of women, but also of
men, all resolved to stand by them, and to prevent
their being imprisoned. Having been again examined,
they were put together into a room; and the provost
of Edinburgh was sent out to disperse the crowd.
But the crowd peremptorily refused to withdraw
till their friends were dismissed, and declared their
willingness to share with them in whatever they
might suffer. On learning the bold resolution of
the multitude without, the council dismissed the
ladies who had been at their bar; entreating them
to repair peaceably to their homes.1
But, as if determined by all means, fair or foul,
l to be avenged on these ladies, who had presumed to
' arraign the policy of the government, the council
dismissed them, not honestly, but with the fraudulent
intention of surprising them that night, and carrying
them from their beds to prison. This intention,
however, being whispered by some counsellors, the
honest women left their own houses; so that they
all escaped being made prisoners at this time, with
the exception of one poor woman, who apprehended
no danger?
This second crowd in the Parliament Close had
the effect of still more irritating the privy council,
and in their proceedings against the ladies, it formed
an additional article in the libel, charging them
with sedition. It strengthened their previous pur-
pose, to inflict some exemplary punishment on
these female petitioners; a purpose formed with the
design of frightening any, whether male or female,
from in future making a similar attempt to lay
their grievances before the government, and to seek
redress. To have granted the prayer of the petition,
as they reasoned, would have been to open the sluice
i to an inundation, which would have overflowed
1 every barrier, putting it beyond their power to hem
it in, or to say, Hitherto shalt thou come and no
farther.
The proceedings of the privy council against these
ladies continued till near the close of the year; and
their case formed an article in most of the letters
which came from the king to the council during the
1 summer. From the register of the proceedings of
Ithe council we learn that, on the 25th of June,
i several ladies who had refused to depone before the
council, or committee of council, respecting the
1 meeting of the 4th of June and the petition, were
lying in prison; for, at their meeting of that day,


1 We have here followed Row, in his Life of Robert Blair, p. 539.
Wodrow, whose account is different from that of Row, mistakes the
proceedings of the privy council on the 11th of June, when a second
crowd assembled in the Parliament Close, for their proceedings on
the 4th of June, the day on which the first crowd assembled. His
narrative relates not, as be supposed, to their proceedings on the
4th of that month, but to their proceedings on the 11th; and we have ,
so introduced it in the following paragraph. (Wodrow’s History,
vol. ii. p. 269.) Wodrow says that the petition was subscribed; but
this seems to be incorrect. The privy council, as we shall afterwards
see, affirmed that no signatures were appended to it; and there is
no reason to call in question the truth of their statement.
1 Row’s Life of Robert Blalr, p. 539. Wcdrow’s History, vol. ii.,
p. 269.
i 9 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 539.





84
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.

“The lords of his majesty’s privy council do recom-
mend to the Earls Marischall, Linlithgow, Caithness,
Wigton, and the Lord Register, to meet to-morrow,
and to consider any address which shall be made to
them by Margaret Johnston,‘ Lilias Campbell, or
any others, who are prisoners in the Tolbooth of
Edinburgh, for not deponing before the council, or
committee of council ; 2 as also to consider any
address which shall be made for any persons against
whom certification is granted upon that account,
with power to them to set the said persons at liberty,
or to continue further execution of the certification
against them, upon their giving their oaths; and
appoint any two of them to be a quorum.” 3
The privy council, who were suificiently disposed
of themselves to deal harshlyr with the female peti-
tioners, were urged on by the court at London,
which was still guided, in the management of Scot-
tish aifairs, almost exclusively by the counsel of
Lauderdale, the Ahithophel of the court of Charles
H., as he was designated by some of the Scottish
martyrs. On the 30th of June, the council received
a letter from his majesty, dated the 23d of that
month, stating that he had received information of
“that seditious petition of many women, and of their
tumultuous carriage at the delivering of it; ” and
requiring the council to use their “utmost rigour
in finding out and bringing to just judgment the
ringleaders of such seditious and insolent practices,
and for quelling that mad spirit.” 4 To the prosecu-
tion against these women, which was severe enough
before, this letter gave a new impulse. Their houses
were searched night and day; the magistrates of
Edinburgh had recourse to every means in order to
discover such as were present in the Parliament
Close; and some of those who had been present, on
being brought before the privy council, and refusing
to depone upon oath, were at length denounced. 5
The case of these ladies again came under the
consideration of the council, at their meeting on the
16th of July, when the council “nominate and appoint
the Earls Marischall, Caithness, Linlithgow, W igton,
and the Lord Register to meet upon Saturday next,
at 3 o’clock, and to consider the condition of these





persons imprisoned for being at that tumultuary
meeting in the Parliament Close, and to report their
opinion concerning them to the council; as also,
to examine such of the women as were called and
compeared, and were not dismissed by the council,
and such others as shall appear before the com-
mittee, with power to the committee to imprison
such persons as they shall find cause, and to report.”
At the same meeting, the “ council having con_
sidered the petition of Margaret Johnston, prisoner
in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, do ordain the magis-
trates of Edinburgh to set her at liberty, she first
finding sufficient caution to confine herself to a
chamber in the town of Edinburgh, and not to remove
forth thereof, until the council shall give order anent
her, under the pain of five hundred merks.” ‘
Again taking up this case, at their meeting on
the 21st of July, the council “ordain and com-
mand the committee formerly appointed to examine
that tumult of the women in the Parliament Close,
to call before them all such persons as have been
given up in list already, or against whom they shall
have information, or who have been already sum-
moned, as accessary to that tumult, except such
as appeared and were dismissed by the council,
and to examine them upon their own accession and
guiltiness; as also, to examine them upon oath,
whom they knew to have accession to the contriv-
ing,ldrawing, or writing of that seditious petition
they had amongst them, what persons they saw and
knew to be in the Parliament Close upon that ac-
count with them, who had the petition in their hands,
or offered copies to any of the council,—and if they
refuse to depone thereupon, that they forthwith
commit the refusers to prison, until the council shall
give further order, and Margaret Johnston to be
begun with to-morrow; and to report to the council
from time to time.” 2
From this act it appears that the council had not
yet discovered that Mrs. Livingtone was the person
who presented the petition to the chancellor. But
by zealous and unremitting inquiries, they at length
succeeded in discovering the names of a considerable
number of ladies, who had been present at the
“tumultuous convocation ;” and no time was lost
in acting upon this discovery. Letters were raised
against them, at the instance of I Sir John Nisbet of
-Dirleton, his majesty’s advocate, charging them
with “seditious and unlawful practices,” for which
they “ought to be exemplarily punished, to the
terror and example of others to commit and do the
like in time coming,” and summoning them to appear

1 Margaret Johnston was a daughter of the celebrated Archibald
Johnston, Lord Warriston.
2 That is, for refusing to make their depositions upon oath. In a
letter to the Duke of Lauderdale on the 2d of July, the council say,
“ Inquiry has also been made concerning the petition offered in a
tumultuary way by some women, of whom diverse being cited, these
appearing, and refusing to give their oaths as to the points interro-
gated upon, are imprisoned, and certification is granted against such
as were absent.” Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 241.
3 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
4 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 238.
5 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 545. '
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council. 2Ibid.




MRS. JOHN LIVINGSTONE, &c.
85


before the council personally, on the 30th of July,
and answer to the complaint contained in the letters,
and hear and see such order taken thereanent, as
appertained under the pain of rebellion. The ladies
against whom these letters were raised, were the
followingz—Mrs. Elizabeth Rutherford; Rachel
Aird, spouse to William Lorimer, merchant, and
Sarah Lorimer her daughter; Catherine Montgo-
mery, relict of Mr. Robert Blair; Barbara Home,
spouse to Mr. Robert Lockhart; Isabel Kennedy,
spouse to James Clelland; Elizabeth Dalziel, spouse
to David Gray; Agnes Henderson, spouse to Robert
Simpson; Margaret Dury, spouse to George Dun-
das, brother to the laird of Dundas; . . . . .1
sister to Lord Melville; Grissel Durham, relict of
Captain Drummond; Mr, George Johnston’s wife;
Mrs. Arnot; lrelict of Mr. John
Nevay; Sarah Brand, spouse to Alexander Gur-
shone, merchant in Edinburgh; . . . . . .‘
Kerr, Lady Mersington, younger; and Rachel J ohn-
ston; Lady Cramond.
It may be interesting to quote at some length,
from the letters raised against these ladies, both
because they contain the privy council’s account of
the meeting in the Parliament Close, and their
version of the petition, as well as a statement of the
grounds upon which they found both to be seditious,
The letters commence with an enumeration of the
acts of parliament, of which the meeting and petition
are said to be a violation :—“ Making mention that
by the laws and acts of this kingdom, it is pro-
hibit and statute, that no man come to any court
but in quiet and sober manner, and all tumultuary
convocations, commotions, uproars and gatherings,
especially within royal burghs, are prohibit under
great and high pains; and by diverse laws and acts
of parliament, it is statute, that if any person or
persons presume, or take upon hand, privately or
publicly to utter by word or write any slanderous
speeches to the contempt and reproach of his
majesty’s proceedings, or to meddle with the affairs
of his highness, and his estate and proceedings, they
are to be repute as seditious and wicked persons,
enemies to his majesty, and the common weal of the
realm, and shall be punished with the pains therein
contained; and by the second act of the second
session of his majesty’s first parliament, it is declared
and statute, that if any person or persons shall by
writing, libelling or remonstrating, express, publish
or declare, any words or sentences to stir up the
people to hatred or dislike of his majesty’s royal
prerogative, or of the government of the church by
archbishops and bishops, as it is now settled by law,
that every such person or persons so oifending, shall
be punished in manner and with the pains therein
contained, and shall be liable to such farther pains
as are due by the law in such; and by the first act
of the first session of his majesty’s first parliament,
entitled, ‘Anent Separation and Disobedience t0
Ecclesiastic Authority,’ his majesty did declare,
that he expected from all his good and dutiful sub-
jects, a due acknowledgment of, and hearty compli-
ance with, his highness’s government ecclesiastical
and civil, as it is now established by law, within this
kingdom, and that, in order thereunto, they will
give their cheerful concurrence and assistance to
such ministers as by public authority are admitted
in their several parishes, and that his majesty will
and doth account a withdrawing from, and not
keeping and joining in, the ordinary meetings for
divine worship in the ordinary parishes, to be sedi-
tious and of dangerous consequence, and by the said
act, the same is punishable with the pains therein
contained, and such other corporal punishment as
the lords of privy council shall think fit; as also by
diverse acts against conventicles, it is statute, that
no outed minister not licensed by the council, and
no other person not authorized by the bishop of the
diocese, shall preach, expound scripture or pray, in
any meeting, except in their own houses, and to
those of their own family, and that none be present
at such meetings, which by the said act are declared
to be the ordinary seminaries of rebellion, under the
pains therein expressed.” 1
The letters next proceed to give an account of
the meeting, and of the petition presented by the
ladies. After naming the persons against whom
they were raised} they go on to say, that these
persons “ have, in manifest contempt of his majesty’s
authority, presumed to contravene the foresaid laws,
and to commit and do the deeds, crimes, and sedi-
tious practices above mentioned, in so far as the said
persons and their associates and complices, upon
the [4th] day of June last, did in a most insolent,
seditious, and tumultuary manner gather, convocate,
and convene together in the court of his majesty’s
parliament house, in such a number and multitude
of persons, that the said whole court was filled with
women and a disorderly rabble, and the said convo-
cation, commotion, and uproar was not only within
the town of Edinburgh, the chief and capital city of
the kingdom, and ordinary seat and place of judica-
ture, and specially his highness’s council sitting there
for doing of justice and preserving the quiet and


1 Blanks in MS.
1 Decreets ofPrixy Council, July 30, 1674-. 2 See their names, above



86
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



peace of the kingdom, and punishing and preventing
of tumults; but the said tumultuous convocation
was of purpose and of design, because the council '
was to sit, upon the council day, and immediately
before, and at the time of the sitting of his majesty’s
said council, and in court and at the very doors of
the house where the council did sit, and upon pre-
tence that they came to the council to present a
petition. And shaking off all respect to his majesty’s
authority, and to the council’s and counsellors’, the
said persons and their complices did proceed to so
great a height of insolence, that many of the said
women did go into, and place themselves on the
stair of the council house, and others did stand in
the court the way to the said council house; and
when the lords of council were coming to the said
court, the multitude did so crowd and throng in
upon them, that with great difliculty they could go
up to the council house; and while they were going
through the close and up the stairs of the council
house, some of the said women did take hold of
some of them, and did give them the double of the
petition, which they said they had given in to be
presented to the council, and others, amidst the
great noise and uproar, did revile and utter injurious
speeches against some of his majesty’s counsellors.
And as the said pretended petitioning, remonstrating,
and application to his highness’s privy council was
most disorderly and seditious, and of dangerous ex-
ample and consequence, as to the manner thereof, so
it was also most seditious and scandalous as to the
matter, and does contain and import reproaches
and reflections upon his majesty’s government,
and meddling in the affairs of his majesty and his
estate, and depraving his highness’s laws and mis-
constructing his proceedings, and libelling and
remonstrating seditious words and sentences, to stir
up the people to the hatred and dislike of the
government of the church by archbishops and bishops
as it is now settled bylaw, in so far as the said peti-
tion is in name of several women without naming
them, and without their subscriptions, and it is in
their own name and in the name of all who will
adhere to them, inviting others, and insinuating that
they pect they will join with them ; and the said
petition bears most falsely and most scandalously,
that the petitioners had been long deprived of the
inestimable blessing of the public worship and ordi-
nances of God, whereas it is notour that his majesty’s
subjects do enjoy the blessing of the public worship
and ordinances of God in great purity and peace,
and that there is an orderly ministry, authorized and
countenanced and established by law; and the said
persons by the petition foresaid do not only acknow-

ledge their unlawful withdrawing from, and not join’
ing with, the ordinary public meetings for divine wor-
ship, and their keeping of conventicles, and attend-
\ ance upon worship in private, contrary to so many
laws, but do presume to desire liberty to keep the said
private meetings and conventicles prohibited by so
many laws, and that outed ministers, whom they
call their ‘honest ministers,’ may be allowed tr.
exercise their function, as the people shall call
them thereto, so that they might enjoy the rich
blessing of faithful pastors, and that their pastors
may be delivered from the sinful compliance of
those who are contrary to the known judgment of
honest Presbyterians; by all which desires, expres-
sions, and others, in the said petition, the petitioners
do scandalously asperse and reflect upon his ma-
jesty’s government, and in special upon the church,
by archbishops and bishops, as it is settled by law,
as if outed and disorderly ministers were the only
honest ministers, and the people were deprived of
the blessing of faithful pastors, because the said
outed ministers are not allowed to preach, and as if
obedience to the laws and compliance of ministers
with his majesty’s government ecclesiastical estab-
lished by law were sinful.”
The letters next adduce their assembling a second
time, on the 11th of June, as a high aggravation of
their alleged seditious conduct :-“And the said
persons, not content to have made the said seditious
convocation, tumult, and uproar, at the time and
in the manner above related, did again relapse
and adventure upon the said seditious practices, and
upon the [11th] day of [June], being the next coun-
cil day thereafter, when the council was about to
sit, and the time of the sitting thereof, they did
again convene, in the said place, and did make a
disorderly convocation, commotion, and uproar, in
manner, and with the same, if not worse, circum-
stances than is above libelled, and had the boldness
and confidence to pretend that they came for an
answer to the said petition.”
The letters next charge several of these ladies,
as Catherine Montgomery and Isabel Kennedy,
with having, when convened before the privy coun-
cil, (although they confessed their being present
at the said tumults,) altogether and obstinately
refused, “to declare upon oath their knowledge con.
cerning the persons present and accessary to the
said tumult, and other circumstances relating to the
same;” whereby it is declared they had incurred
the penalties contained in the “second act of the
second session of his majesty’s second parliament,
entitled Act against Delinquents who should refuse
to depone,” by which “it is statute that all and


MRS. JOHN LIVINGSTONE, 8:0.
87




every subject of this kingdom, of what degree, sex,
or quality soever, who shall be called by his ma-
jesty’s privy council, or any others having autho-
rity from his majesty, to declare upon oath their.
knowledge of any crimes against his majesty’s laws,
and the peace of the kingdom, and particularly
of any conventicles or other unlawful meetings,
and shall refuse or delay to declare or depone there-
anent, they shall be punished in manner therein
contained.”
Such is the amount of the charges brought against
these female petitioners; and to answer to which they
were summoned to appear at the bar of the privy
council. But none of them made their appearance,
believing that had they appeared, and refused to make
any acknowledgments, which, having committed no
crime, they were not prepared to make, they would
probably have been thrown into prison. Accordingly,
after “being ofttimes called and not compcaring,
the lords of his niajesty’s privy council, July 30, do
ordain letters to be directed to messengers at arms
to pass to the market-cross of Edinburgh, . . . ‘
and thereat, in his majesty’s name and authority,
duly, lawfully, and orderly to denounce the said Mrs.
Elizabeth Rutherford, &e.,‘~’ his majesty’s rebels, and
put them to the horn, and escheit and inbring all
their movable goods and gear to his highness’s use
for their contempt and disobedience.” 3
On the 29th of September the privy council again
convened, but little was done. “Only they were
very hot upon the chase against the women that
offered their petition.” “
As the name of Mrs. Livingstone does not occur

among the ladies who were summoned to appearI
before the privy council on the 30th of July, and‘
who, not appearing, were declared his majesty’s
rebels and put to the horn, it may be concluded that
the council had not yet discovered that she was at .
the head of the movement, and was the person who
presented the petition to the chancellor. But by
subsequent inquiries they appear to have made this
discovery, or to have found, at least, that at the
“ tumultuous convocation” she had presented a copy
of the petition to some one or other of the counsel-



were summoned to appear before the council on
the 12thof November that year, “ as being guilty
of a tumultuary convocation, commotion, and up-
roar, within the Parliament Close, in the month of
J une last, the time of the meeting and sitting of
the council, and of presenting a most insolent and
seditious petition to some of the council.” Mrs.
Livingstone, and the others who were summoned,
compeared before the council on the 12th of Novem-
ber, and, on being examined, confessed that they
were “present in the said tumult.” The result was
that the lords of council banished them from the
city of Edinburgh, Leith, and suburbs thereof, and
ordained them against the lst of December next to
depart from the said bounds, discharging them to
return thereto in future, as they would be answer-
able at their highest peril. '
Mrs. Livingstone, and all the rest, with two excep-
tions, were obliged immediately to act in conformity
with this sentence. The two exceptions were Mar-
garet Johnston and Lilias Campbell, the execution
of whose sentence was delayed for fourteen days by
the council, at their meeting on the 3d of December,
in answer to a petition presented by these ladies.
After a short absence, some of the banished women
privately returned to their own houses in Edinburgh.
Receiving information of this, the authorities of the
city caused search to be made for them.2 But the
storm appears gradually to have blown over, though
the number of nonconforming ladies, and especially
of nonconforming ministers’ wives and widows, in
Edinburgh, continued to be a source of offence and
uneasiness to the government?’
Thus terminated the proceedings against Mrs.
Livingstone and her fellow-petitioners, simply for
their exercising a right of which no power on earth
could justly deprive them. Their treatment by the
council was, throughout, tyrannical and oppressive.
Had they, like a regiment of Amazons, assembled
with pikes and muskets to do personal violence to
their great enemy, Archbishop Sharp, as he at first
dreaded, guilt would have lain upon them, great as
his demerits were, and some pretext would have
been afforded for the severity with which they were
proceeded against. But they came together in no

lors. Accordingly, she and several. other ladies5
1 Blank in MR 2 See the other names at p. 85.
3 Decreets of Privy Council, July 30, 1674.
4 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 552.
a’l‘hc names of the ladies, as given in the act of council, 12th
November, are Mrs. Elizabeth Rutherford; Margaret Johnston;
Lilias Campbell; Lady Mersington, elder; Bethia Murray, spouse
to Hugh Mossman, eouppar in Leith, Janet Fleming, relict of Mr.
John Livingstone; Catherine Montgomery, relict of Mr. Robert
Blair; Margaret Lundy, spouse to John Hamilton, merchant at the
foot of the West Bow; Margaret Dury, spouse to George Dundas,
brother to the Laird of Dundas; Isabel Kennedy, spouse to James
Clelland, chirurgeon; Rachel Aird, spouse to William Lorimer,
l merchant; Sarah Lorimer, his daughter; Barbara Home, spouse tc
l M r. Robert Lock-hart; Elizabeth Dalziel, spouse to David Gray, hat-
niaker; Grissel Durham, reliet of Captain Drummond; and Agnes
Henderson, spouse to Robert Simpson in Edinburgh.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
2 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 255.
3 On the 12th of March, 1679, “ the council emitted sundry pro~
clamations, and commanded all noneonformed ministers’ relicts, or
wives, to void the town.” Fountainhall’s Historical Notices of Scot-
tish Affairs, vol. i., p. 225.


88
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



such warlike attitude, nor with any such intention.
One writer of that period, Sir George Mackenzie,
commonly called “ the bloody Mackenzie,” would in-
deed, either with the view of covering the tyranny of
the government, or of stigmatizing these religious
women, have it to be believed that they had medi-
tated Sharp’s destruction. “Petitions for able minis-
ters,” says he, “were given in to the council by
many hundreds of women, who, filling the Parliament
Close, threatened the Archbishop of St. Andrews,
who passed along with the chancellor, for whose
coming he had waited in his own chamber; and
some of them had conspired to set upon him, when
a woman,1 whom I shun to name, should raise
her hand on high as a signal: to prevent which,
the chancellor entertained the woman with insinu-
ating speeches all the time as he passed to the
council, and so did divert that bloody design.” 9 A
more gratuitous assertion it is impossible to make.
Neither Kirkton nor Row, both contemporary writers,
nor ‘Wodrow, who all narrate the history of this
affair, give the smallest countenance to such a state-
ment. And should their evidence be suspected of
partiality, we may appeal to the Records of the Pro-
ceedings of the Privy Council, in which is registered
the result of the long and patient inquiries of the
committee of council into all the circumstances con-
nected with the Supplication ; but in which a pro-
found silence is preserved as to any such murderous
intention; a circumstance not likely to have occurred
had there been any ground whatever for such a
charge. It is indeed manifest, beyond controversy,
from all these authorities compared, that the sole
object of these ladies was the one ostensibly avowed
in their petition. And yet Mackenzie’s calumny
has been taken up and given forth as historical truth
by a writer of the present day. “ These viragos,”
says the editor of Law’s Memorials, “headed by the
Rev. Mr. Livingstone’s widow, and a daughter of
Lord Warriston, had laid a plan of murdering Arch-
bishop Sharp, it being agreed that Mrs. Livingstone
was to hold up her hand as a signal for the pious
sisterhood to rend the prelate in pieces; but Lord
Rothes contrived to engage her in conversation till
the opportunity was lost.” 3


Mrs. Livingstone subsequently went over to Hol-
land. Repeated allusions are made to her as residing
there in the letters of Mr. John Carstairs to Mr.
Robert M‘Ward, Rotterdam, in the years 167 7 ,
1678, and 167 9; and whenever her name is men-
tioned, it is always with some epithet expressive of
the high esteem in which she was held by the writer.
In a letter to M‘Ward, dated July 26, 167 7, Carstairs
says, “I salute much in the Lord that mother in
Israel, choice Mrs. Livingstone, and her sweet
daughter.” ' In another letter to him, dated Febru-
ary 8, 167 8, he sends his salutations to her?’ In a
tlnrd letter to him, dated December 3, 1678, he
says, “ I am troubled for our loss of worthy Wallace,
and am glad that that mother in Israel, Mrs. Living-
stone, is spared awhile, that we might not have sor-
row upon sorrow.” 3 In a fourth letter to him,
dated February 17, 1679, he says, “ I dearly salute
your worthy wife, worthy Mr. Gordon, my kind'and
obliging friend, choice Mrs. Livingstone, a mother
indeed in Israel.” 4 And in a fifth letter to him,
dated Edinburgh, October, 1679, he again sends his
salutations to her.5 This is the last notice we have
met with concerning her. How long she lived after
this is uncertain, nor is it known whether she again
returned to Scotland. The probability is, that she
spent the remainder of her days in Holland, and that
her ashes, like those of her distinguished husband,
repose in that hospitable retreat of our persecuted
forefathers.6
Some of Mrs. Livingstone’s children emigrated
from Scotland to America, to the state of New York,
where their descendants have, in the course of time,
become people of the first distinction and weight in
society. The late Dr. John H. Livingstone, minis-
ter of the Reformed Dutch Church in New York,
Professor of Divinity to that body, and President of
Queen’s College, New J ersey,—-one of the first men
of his age and country, and whose memoirs have
been written by Mr. Alexander Gunn, was the great-
great-grandson of the subject of this memoir.7

1 He no doubt means Mrs. Livingstone.
2 Sir George Mackenzie’s Memoirs of the Affairs of Scotland, &c.,
p. 273.
3 Editor’s Foot Note in Law’s Memorials, p. 67. The editor refers ,
to Kirkton and Wodrow as his authorities. But neither of these
writers give him the slightest support. Mackenzie, though not
referred to, is his sole authority.
1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lix., folio, no. 65. 2 Ibid., no. 77.
3 Ibid., no. 95. 4 Ibid., 110. 109. 5 Ibid., no. 122.
6 There is a portrait of Mrs. Livingstone in (% osford I-louse,
belonging to the Earl of Wemyss, as we learn from a foot note, in
Kirkton’s History, by the editor, 1). 345.
7 Chambers’ Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen, art.
John Livingstone.








.LADY ANNE LINDSAY,
DUCHESS OF ROTH ES.

LADY ANNE Lnvnsxr was the eldest daughter of
John, first Earl of Lindsay and fifteenth Earl of
Crawford, Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, by
his wife, Lady Margaret Hamilton, second daughter
of James, second Marquis of Hamilton.l Her pater-
nal grandmother was the excellent Lady Boyd,
already noticed; and her maternal grandmother was
Lady Anne Cunningham, Marchioness of Hamilton,
of whom some account has also been given.
Her father, who was the son of Lady Boyd by
her first husband, Robert, ninth Lord Lindsay of
Byres, was, as we have seen before,2 a man of sound
religious principle, and a stedfast supporter of the
second Reformation cause. He warmly opposed,
though without success, the passing of the act res-
cissory in the first parliament of Charles II., by
which all the parliaments, since 1633, were’ annulled,
and all the proceedings for reformation between
1638 and 1650 were denounced rebellious and trea-
sonable; and he declared himself against the estab-
lishment of prelacy, assuring his majesty that a
measure so opposed to the feelings of the Scottish
people would be followed by the worst effects. A
strenuous defender of the lawfulness and obligation
of the national Covenants, he refused to take the
Declaration, abjuring them as unlawful oaths; 3 for
which Charles 11., though he much respected him,
incited by Archbishop Sharp, deprived him of his
office as lord high treasurer of Scotland. His answer,
when Charles asked him whether he would take the
Declaration, is worthy of being recorded: “ As I
have suffered much,” he said, “ for your majesty,
even nine years’ imprisonment, forfeiture, and the
ruin of my fortune, so I am resolved to continue
your majesty’s loyal and faithful subject, and to serve
you in whatever I can with a good conscience; but
as for renouncing the Covenant and taking the Decla-

ration, that I cannot do with a safe and good con-
science.” And when Lauderdale—afraid lest his
enemy Middleton should obtain the office of trea-
surer—urged him to take the Declaration, by the .‘
argument that he would thus, by retaining his place, I
l
1Douglas’s Peerage, vol. 1., p. 387. 2 See p. 10.
3 By the fifth act of the second session of parliament, 1662, the
Declaration was ordained to be taken by all admitted to any public
trust or office under his majesty’s government in Scotland, and 5
those already in office were also required to subscribe it.
be in a better capacity for promoting the interests
of the nonconformists than he could be in a private
station, he replied, like a man of principle, that he
was taught not to do evil that good might come. '
Resigning his situation as lord high treasurer, he
:retired to his house at Struthers, and spent the
remainder of his days 111 privacy. “He was a man,”
says Douglas, “ of great virtue, of good abilities, and
of an exemplary life in all respects. He died at
Tyninghame in 1676, aged about eighty.” 2
Lady Anne’s mother was also eminent for virtue
and piety. Row speaks of her as “the Earl of
Crawford’s most religious lady, who was most de-
servedly praised of all that knew her ;” and he informs
us that, “when all about her, and all Crawford’s
friends in Scotland, were lamenting the loss of his
place, she heartily rejoiced and blessed God that he
' had kept a good conscience, and himself free of per-
jury and Covenant breaking, &c., trusting in God
that He would provide for him and his.” 3 Robert
Blair, who knew her personally, speaking of her on
his death-bed, said, “My Lady Crawford, set her
alone, set her alone among women.” 4
Lady Anne, thus descended from godly parents,
enjoyed the inestimable benefit of a religious educa-
tion ; and her parents had the satisfaction of wit-
nessing the fruits of their instructions and example
in the eminence of her piety, which she exemplified
throughout life bya conversation becomingthe gospel.
The fervour of her devotion, the benevolence of her
disposition, the humility of her demeanour, and the
sanctity of her deport-ment, are all honourably men-
tioned by her contemporaries. Law describes her
as “a discreet, wise, virtuous, and good lady.”5 And
others who knew her, speak in the highest terms
of her christian excellence. In her youth, which
was contemporaneous with the best days of the
Covenant, she was strictly educated in the Presby-
terian faith, to which she continued to adhere in its
every variety of fortune, in its adversity as well as
in its prosperity. After the restoration of Charles
II., she was exposed, by the circumstances in which

1 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 441.
9 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 386.
3 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 442.
‘ Ibid, p. 495.
‘5 Law’s Memorials p. 202.
M
90
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




she was placed, to great temptations to become
indifferent or hostile to the principles of Presbytery.
Her husband, John, sixth Earl of Rothes, to whom
she had been previously married, was a member of
the pcrsecutiig government of Charles, and she was
under the necessity of mingling, to a considerable
extent, with the unprincipled and persecuting states- '
men of that period. But her convictions and feelings
remained unaltered, and the ejected ministers, on
whose side her sympathies were enlisted, she was
ever ready, to the utmost of her ability, to befriend.
Some of them she succeeded in continuing in their v
charges after their persecutors had marked them out
for ejectment. Mr. Black, minister of Leslie, for
example, a man whom she highly esteemed, and
under whose ministry she sat when residing at Leslie
House, was, though a nonconformist, through her
intercession with the Bishop of Dunkeld, continued
in the exercise of his ministry in his own parish,
when that prelate, in 1664:, summarily deposed all
the other nonconforming ministers in his diocese. 1
The friendly interest she took in the persecuted
ministers, she evinced in many other ways. “ Rich
in good works, ready to distribute, willing to com-
municate,” she often ministered to their temporal
necessities, and entertained them with hospitality
and kindness when they visited her at Leslie House.
On these occasions they endeavoured to keep out of
the eye of the duke, for, though not naturally in-i
clined to cruelty, yet from political considerations,
he put on the appearance of severity. He was not,
however, ignorant that they were harhoured and
reset by the duchess, but he connived at them on
her account; and on happening, as he sometimes did
happen, to see any of them about the house, being a
man of humour, he was in the habit of saying to her,
“ My lady, I would advise you to keep your chickens
in about, else I may pick up some of them.”2 Other
anecdotes of a similar kind are still current, and have
been recorded by Miss Strickland, in her very inte-'_
resting work, entitled “Lives of the Queens of Eng-
land.” After noticing that the duchess “favoured
the doctrines of the Covenanters, and, as far as she
could, protected their preachers, who were frequently
concealed in the neighbourhood of Leslie House,”
she adds, “The duke never sent out his
l

otlieers to apprehend any of these persons without
previously endeavouring to provide for their escape,
by giving a significant hint to his compassionate
duchess in these words, ‘ My hawks will be out to-
night, my lady,—so you had bettertake care of your
blackbirds !’ The local traditions of Leslie add, that
the signal by which her Grace warned her spiritual
protégés of their danger, was a white sheet sus-
pended from one of the trees 011 the brow of the hill
behind the house, which could be seen from a con-
siderable distance. Other telegraphic signs the
good lady had, no doubt, to intimate the absence of
her spouse when they might safely come forth and
preach to their hill-side congregation.” ‘
Nor was she backward to intercede with the duke
and the other members of the government for the
persecuted ministers. Well assured of her friendly
disposition, they confidently applied to her to exert
in their behalf the influence which, from her situa-
tion, she had with the duke and the other members
of the privy council. An instance of this in the case
of Mr. Robert IVylie, when he was indulged minis-
ter of Fenwick, is preserved among his MSS., which
form a part of W'odrow’s Collections. All the in-
dulged ministers having, onthe 3d of September, 1675,
got a charge of horning to pay their respective pro-
portions of the ordinary fees due forthe parishes where
they resided, to the clerk and bursar of the diocesan
synod of Glasgow, Mr. Robert Wylie, with several
others, refused, from scruples of conscience, to make
payment.2 He accordingly applied for a suspension,
and sent a petition to the privy council, praying for
relief from that imposition; and, at the same time,
he transmitted a copy of the petition to the duchess,
to give her an idea of the case, accompanied with a
letter, requesting her friendly intercessions with the
lords of his majesty’s privy council in furtherance of
his petition. The letter, which is written in a tone
that bespeaks the confidence he reposed in her sym-
pathy and friendship, is as follows :-
“Fenwick, 2d December, 1675.
“ MADAM,———I humbly crave pardon that I presume
to trouble your ladyship with any petty business that
concerns me; but being desirous to live quietly and
with bosom peace, to close my days in the work of
the gospel, I hope it will not offend your ladyship
that I entreat for your honour’s help to hold off the
inconveniences that may apparently fall upon me, if
not prevented. Madam, the matter is this : I am
charged with letters of horning to pay fees to the
clerk of the bishop’s synod, and dues to a bursar of

1 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 473.
2 M‘Crie’s Memoirs of Veitch and Brysson, p. 295. Among other
instances of the persecuted finding shelter in similar situations, it
may be mentioned that, previous to the civil wars, while Dr. Scott,
dean of York, was employed at cards, or other games, to which he
was much addicted, Mrs. Scott was attending a ccnventicle in
another room , the Dean’s house being reckoned the safest place l or
holding such assemblies. Brooke’s Lives of the Piu'itans, vol. iii.,
p. 528.
1 Vol. iii., p. H7. 2 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., 1). 297



DUCHESS 0F ROTHES.
9i





prelatic choice; which, considering the Presbyterian
principles grounded on the scriptures, and the stand-
ing obligation of the oath of God upon the conscience,
I have no freedom to do ; and therefore sent for a
suspension of the charges, which I hear was granted,
but the clerks are loath to give it out until they
would know the council’s mind.1 Being desirous to
leave no means unessaycd to hold weights off my
conscience and troubles off my person, I have sent
a petition, to be presented to the most honourable
lords of his majesty’s privy council, holding forth
the grounds of my refusal, and supplicating that
their lordships would grant me the free exercise of
my ministry, with reservation of my principles and
liberty of my judgment, and that their lordships
would be pleased to discharge all legal procedure
against me, as the petition does more fully purport ;
a copy whereof, for your ladyship’s information, I
have herewith enclosed, knowing that the draught
will be kept as a secret with your honour, and made
use of only for your private information, that your
ladyship may the better know the affair, and how to
speak to it as occasion offers. And now, madam,
my humble request to your ladyship is, that you
would be pleased to speak to such members of the
council as your honour thinks convenient, in order
to the inclining of them to give a favourable answer
unto my petition, that now, in my old days, when I
am labouring under manifold infirmities, I may have
liberty to close the latter part of my time in the
peaceable preaching of the gospel, without pressing
me with impositions grating upon my conscience,
and putting a crazy person to unnecessary tossings.
Madam, I do again beg pardon for this presumption;
and wishing all abounding of grace, all the blessings
of the everlasting covenant to be plentifully poured
out upon your ladyship and all yours, I rest, madam,
your ladyship’s, [Tnonas WYLIL] ” 2
That the friendly endeavours of this lady would
not be wanting to promote the success of Mr. Wylie’s
petition there can be little doubt, from what we
know of her character ; and her intercessions, judg-
ing from the result, were not without success. The
relief which Mr. Wylie so earnestly solicited was at
length granted by the government; for in a new
proclamation, issued on the 1st of March next year,
two of the rules, according to which the indulged
ministers, by the Indulgence 1672, were required to

1 The difficulty of obtaining a suspension arose from the fact that
the payment of the clerk’s and bursar’s fees was required by the
council’s act of indulgence, Sept. 2, 1672.
2 M r. Wylie’s M SS. among the Wodrow M FR, vol. xxx, 4to, no 16.
There is no signature to the letter. It is addressed on the back,
" For the Countess of liothes.”


act, are omitted, the one regarding their waiting on
diocesan meetings, and the other respecting their
paying dues to the clerk and bursar of the diocesan
synod. Mr. I/Vylie, however, continued to feel an
easy under the other restrictions of the Indulgence.1
On the introduction of field preaching into Fife,
the duchess used to attend these much maligned and
proscribed meetings. One of the places which, in
those troublous times, she frequented to hear the
sermons of the field preachers was Glenvale, a beauti-
ful sequestered spot in the parish of Strathmiglo,
Eifeshire, “lying between West Lomond and Bishop
Hill. About the middle of the valley it expands
into a fine amphitheatre on the south, capable of
containing many thousand persons; on the north
side is a large projecting rock, which is said to have
been occupied by the ejected ministers as a pulpit.” 2
In this favourite place of resort, which, in point of
romantic scenery, may bear comparison with the
wild recess in Cartiand Orags, where the Covenan-
ters of the west met for the same purpose, immense
multitudes from all the surrounding districts often
assembled for the worship of God. “In the year
167 8,” to quote from a well attested account of
the Sull'erings of the Presbyterians in Kinross-shire,
“ the field meetings were kept very frequently
through the whole shire, but oftener in Glenvale,
because it was the centre of that large congregation,
which extended to Cupar of Fife on the east, to
Kirkaldy on the south, to Salin and Dollar on the
west, and to Perth on the north. There were five
or six parishes engaged together to keep up the
preaching of the gospel among themselves ; and by
turns each parish sent to Edinburgh and brought a
minister, so that they seldom wanted sermon on the
Lord’s day.”3 In attending these “ seditious meet-
ings” and “rendezvouses of rebellion,” as they were
stigmatized by the privy council, the duchess in-
curred the heavy penalties under which they were
interdicted; but, like others of the ladies of the mem-
bers of the government, who were led by curiosity
, or piety to field conventicles, she was overlooked,
l
the council not deeming it prudent to carry the per-
secution into the bosom of their own families. The
leniency which the Duke of Itothes exercised to-
wards these field meetings in Fife, it is believed was
owing, in no small degree, to their being favoured
and countenanced by the duchess. On one occasion
when forty individuals, who had been apprehended
for a conventiele in Glenvale, were brought before

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 336.
2 M‘Crie’s Memoirs of Veitch, &c., p.
Scottish Church History, Ed edition, p. 420.
3 Wodrow MSi, v03. xxxiii, folio, no. 141;.



92
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT‘.



him in Leslie, and he was asked what was to be done
with them: “Put them (said he) in Bailie Walker’s
back room, the place they all like so well.” The
bailie was a religious man, and meetings for social
prayer and conference were often held in his back
room. When asked what farther orders he had to
give respecting them, the duke answered, “Give them
plenty of meat and drink, and set them about their
business in the morning.”1 He knew that Glenvale
was a favourite place of resort for his own lady, and
that these poor individuals brought before him had
done nothing to merit punishment, were guilty in
fact of holding no principles, and following no prac-
tices, for which she might not have been equally
impeached.
An evidence of the tender-hearted sympathy of
the duchess with the persecuted Covenanters is fur-
nished in the following anecdote':--Arclibisliop
Sharp, having on one occasion come to dine with the
duke, complained to him at dinner that two of his
tenants, David and James Walker, were keepers of
conventicles. This complaint the archbishop strongly
and vehemently urged, though the duchess, of whose
attachment to the Presbyterian interest he could
not be ignorant, was present; for deference to her
feelings was overborne by his inveterate malignity
against these worthy men. The duke, who expressed
his surprise at this information, said, that “ he should
take an effectual course with them, and see them
both stringed.” 2 The archbishop insisted that he
should notsforget them, for they were incendiaries
through all Fife; upon which the duke gave orders
to his man servant, who was standing at his back,
to send immediately to the town of Leslie, in the
neighbourhood of which they lived, and bring them
down to him after dinner, promising to the arch-
bishop that they should give the government no
farther trouble. To this discourse, the duchess,
though it appears she made no remarks, listened
with great pain—the two men, who were eminent
for piety, being her christian friends, for whom she
entertained a high esteem; nor had she much respect
for Sharp, who, besides being first a traitor to the
Church of Scotland, and then its persecutor, had
injured her father for being a more honest man than
himself. It may therefore be easily believed, as
‘Wodrow observes, that “ this spoiled my lady
duchess’s dinner.” She was aware that the duke,
who was ambitions of place and power, had, to secure
the favour of Sharp, whose influence at court was
great, and to keep the prelatic clergy at his devo-
tion, done acts of violence which he was not natu-
rally inclined to commit; and was therefore afraid

I M‘Cric’s Memoirs of Veitch, 81.0., p. 295. 2 i. a. hanged.


that in the present instance, to gratify the prelate, he
would subject these good men to persecution. Her
fears were, however, happily disappointed. The two
noneonformists immediately came down to the palace
at Leslie. After dinner, the duke accompanied Sharp
to his coach; and, on being again reminded by the
prelate not to spare the two delinquents, he told
him they were come, and assured him he should not
fail to handle them severely. But on his coming up
stairs and calling for them, he simply asked them, in
a friendly way, the prices of the markets, what grain
it was best for him to sow in such and such parts of
his lands about Leslie, and similar questions, after
which he dismissed them without any mark of dis-
pleasure or asking them a single question in refer-
ence to the subject as to which he had professedly
brought them to his house. “The duchess,” says
Wodrow, “retired from dinner in deep concern for
the men, and gave orders to a servant to bring them
in to her, when the duke parted with them, by a back
gallery. Accordingly they came. The duchess was
all in tears, and almost trembling, asked what had
passed. They told her, ‘ Nothing but kindness.’
Whether this was to be attributed to the duchess’s
prayers in their behalf, or to the duke’s natural
temper, who was not inclined to violence, I am not
to determine; but the fact is certain.” ‘
The duchess was greatly tried in her domestic life.
Besides being connected with the persecuting go-
vernment of Charles, the duke was unprincipled and
profligate, devoting himself “ without either restraint
or decency to all the pleasures of wine and women.” 2
“ He gave himself,” says Eountainhall, “great
liberty in all sorts of pleasures and debaucheries,
particularly with Lady Anne, sister to the first Duke
of Gordon, whom he took along with him in his pro-
gress through the country with hat and feather; and
by his bad example infected many of the nobility and
gentry.” 3 But- trying as this was to the duchess,
the admirable prudence and gentleness which marked
her temper and conduct under it all, so impressed
the duke as to make him ashamed of the manner in
which he was treating her. “It was,” says Kirk-
ton, “confidently reported that his infamous con-
verse with Lady Anne Gordon touched his own
conscience so much, that one day, being under the
dint of his own conviction, and reflecting upon his
misbehaviour towards his worthy lady, (whom he

1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iv., p. 42. Mr. John Loudon, who was
sometime a tutor in the family of Rothes, and afterwards a minister
of the Church of Scotland, was Wodrow’s informer. He received
this anecdote from the duchess herself.
2 Burnet’s Own Times, vol. i., p. 175.
3 Fonntainliall’s Diary, quoted in Kirkton’s History by the edit!”
p. 20*.


DUCHESS OF ROTHES.
93



could not but admire) he threw all the wretched
love-tokens his miss had given him into the fire,
upon suspicion and fear he was detained her captive
by the power of witchcraft, as very many said he
was.” ‘
Still more calculated to excite in the mind of the
duchess the most poignant distress, were the circum-
stances connected with his death. His days may be
said to have been shortened by his intemperance. So
strong was his constitution that he could outdrink
two or three sets of drunkards in succession, and after
the greatest excesses an hour or two of sleep so

i completely recruited him, that he could go about
business without any apparent disorder either in body
or mind. This could not always last ; it ultimately
undermined his vigorous constitution, producing such
disease of stomach, that when not hot within and
full of strong drink he had perpetual cholics, so that
he was always either sick or drunk.l He was seized
with his last illness in Edinburgh. On his death-
bed his conscience was awakened ; and as he looked
back on his past life, and forward to a coming judg-
ment, the horrors of despair settled on his soul. He
sent for some of his lady’s ministers,—those men

Funeral Procession of the Duke of Rothes.
who, when entertained by her at Leslie House, were
afraid to meet him in the days of his robust health,—
he sent for them now, that, if possible, they might-
minister relief to his troubled conscience. Two of
them, Mr. John Carstairs, and Mr. George Johnston,
who were then in Edinburgh, came to Holyrood-
house, where he lay; and while they spoke to him
freely of the sinfulness of his former ways, as fidelity
demanded, true to their office, as messengers of
peace, they told him that pardon and mercy were to
be obtained through the blood of Jesus for the
greatest sinners of Adam’s race, even at the eleventh
hour. Mr. Carstairs, a man unequalled in his day in
the gift of prayer, engaged in that exercise; and so

‘ Kirkton’s History, p. 212.

weighty and affecting were his sentences, as to draw
tears from almost every one present. But all availed
not to pacify the conscience of the dying nobleman.
He said to Carstairs, “ We all thought little of what
that man Cargill did in excommunicating us, but I
find that sentence binding upon me new, and it will
bind to eternity.” The Duke of Hamilton, who
witnessed the scene, deeply moved, said, “ When in
health we hunt and persecute these men, but when
dying we call for them : this is melancholy work! ”
The dying duke expired at Holyroodhousc on the
:27th July, 1681, in the 51st year of his age. His
funeral obsequies were performed with unusual
pomp. His body was first privately brought up from

1 Burnct’s Own Times, vol. i, p. 175.



94¢ THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



Holyroodhouse to the high church of St. Giles, accom-
panied with a train of coaches ; thence it was con-
ducted, with the greatest magnificence, to the royal duke, a lady of a cultivated understanding and of
chapel of Holyroodhouse, by a numerous procession, much practical wisdom, was almost unequalled in
the order of which is given by Arnot in his History of her day for the depth of her piety, and the extent
Edinlnirgh.l From the chapel of Holyroodhouse, it of her beneficence.
was next conveyed with the same funereal pomp to j Among the nonconforming ministers whom the
Leith, thence it was transported to Burntisland ; and duchess befriended and patronized,was Mr. Alexander
the day after, it was met by the gentlemen of the y IVedderburn, one of the most popular ministers of
countyof Fife, (of which he was high sheriff,)by whom ' his day, who was ejected from Forgan, in Fife, after
it was accompanied to the family burying place at l the Restoration, and who subsequently became in-
Leslie. The body was laid in the grave with sound 1 dulged minister at Kilmarnock. Previous to his
they filled, and were patterns to their sex. Her
eldest daughter, in particular, who succeeded the



of open trumpets, and the honours placed above the '
grave. This superfluity of display was common
during the reign of Charles II. at the funerals of the
great. Under that reign it was a matter of policy, in
prosecution of the designs of the government for the
establishment of absolute power, to encourage every
circumstance which could mark the distinction of
ranks, and hence the nobility and gentry gratified
their vanity not only by the splendour of their re-
tinues, but also by the extravagant pomp with which
they conducted the funerals of their departed friends,
as if they could thus keep up the distinctions of
rank and elevated station, after death had levelled
them in the dust.
“ Sorry pre-eminence of high descent
Above the vulgar born.” 2
The duchess had to the duke two daughters, Lady
Margaret and Lady Christian. Lady Margaret, the
eldest, became, on her father’s death, countess of
Rothes, having inherited his extensive property in
the counties of Aberdeen, Elgin, Fife, Forfar, Inver-
ness, Kincardine, and Perth, and the earldom of
Rothes, but not his other titles of Duke of Rothes,
Marquis of Ballinbreich, &c., which, being limited to
the heirs male of his body, became extinct at his
death. She was married in 1674 to Charles, fifth
Earl of Haddington, the marriage contract being
dated the 7th of October that year. The second
daughter, Lady Christian, was married first to James,
third Marquis of Montrose, to whom she had issue,
and afterwards, in 1687, to Sir John Bruce of Kin-
ross, baronet, to whom she had no children. 3
Amidst all her domestic trials, the duchess found
much comfort in her children, who, following her
instructions and example, adorned the high stations

death, which took place about the close of October,
167 8,‘ this excellent minister, having consented to
the posthumous publication of a series of sermons
which he had delivered upon 2 Samuel xxiii. 5, and
which, after his death, were published partly from
short-hand notes taken by some of the hearers, and
partly from his own notes, it was his desire that the
volume should be dedicated to the duchess. But as
before its publication she had been removed by death,
Mr. W edderburn’s widow, Helen Turnbull, dedicated
it to the duchess’s daughter, “ the truly noble Mar-
garet, countess of Rothes,” which she was induced
to do not only in consideration of the christian
excellence of that lady, but also from respect to the
memory of her sainted mother; and as a memorial of
the duchess we now quote it. “ Madam,” says Mrs.
IVcdderburn, “ Before that pious and eminent per-
son, the duchess of Rothes, your ladyship’s renowned
mother, was by death removed, I designed, according
to the intention of my husband, (who is now entered
into the joy of his Lord,) to dedicate this part of his
labours to her Grace. And now, when these papers,
by advice of faithful and godly ministers, are to be
exposed to public view, I judged it my duty to pay
that respect to her Grace’s memory as to prefix your
ladyship’s name thereunto, (which, no doubt, if my
husband were alive, he himself would have done,)
which I the more confidently adventure upon, as that
j I know your ladyship to be the lively portraiture of
l the graces and virtues of your noble and now glori-
fied mother, and to be of such wisdom and prudence,
humility and self-denial, as to excuse anything of
unsuitableness that may be in this for one of my
station and sex.”
A few brief notices of Margaret, Countess of
Rothes, may form an appropriate sequel to the pre-


1 Pp. 168, 611.
9 To such an extent, however, did this foolish vanity and absurd
extravagance proceed, that the parliament which met at Edinburgh,
September 13, 1681, passed an “act restraining the exorbitant
expense of Marriages, Baptisms, and Burials.”—See the Acts of the
Parliament of Scotland.
8 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii. p. 4353.
1 The illness which issued in his death was brought on by a thrust
he received from the butt of the musket of a Highlander during the
invasion of the West by the Highland host in 1678, at the time when
he was interceding with these savages to spare the town of Kilmar-
{ nock, which they were resolved to plunder. Ilis last illness con
tinued about four months.




DUCHESS OF ROTHES.
95



ceeding sketch of her mother. Crawford describes
her as “a lady of incomparable piety and goodness,” ‘
and Wodrow speaks of her as that “ excellent lady
who scarce had a parallel for religion, and everyl
thing good in her age.” ‘3 Having embraced the
same religious sentiments as her mother, she was a ‘
friend to the persecuted Presbyterians, of which the
government were well aware, and as an instance of
the arts resorted to for depriving the sufferers of
shelter from every quarter, it may be mentioned that
the privy council, who found sheriff courts a power-
ful means of carrying on the persecution, persuaded
that on succeeding her father, she would appoint a l
sheriff depute for Fife, who would befriend the i
sufferers, had recourse to a most dishonourable
expedient, in order to deprive her of the power of
appointing a substitute to hold such a court in her
name. On the 6th of October, 1681, the privy '
council “ order intimation to be made to her by the
Earl of Haddington, that she cannot hold any
sheriff court, nor any in her name, until she take
the test.” “ The parliament, in one of their acts,”
says \Vodrow, “as we have seen, except the heirs
of the duke from some hardships of this nature,3 yet
the council urge this excellent lady with this oath,
as what they knew she would never take, that the
offices might fall into the managers hands. The
council succeeded in their design. Both the Countess
and the Earl of Haddington, her husband, refused
to take the test. Accordingly the sheriffdom of
Fife was lodged in the hands of the Earl of Balcarres,
who, in that same year, appointed Alexander Malcolm
sheriff depute of that county, a man who proved as
»4
recovered, would make a beautiful figure in our
Biography. 1 have little hope of recovering it. In
the late dear years 1607 and 1698, she was remark-
able for her charity. She distributed many bolls of
meal among the poor every week, and it was calcu-
lated that she dealt out most of the yearly rent of
the estate that way. She had a day in the week,
Friday, I think, when sick and indisposed persons
came to her; and she spoke with them, and gave
them medicines gratis; and some cheats, pretending
to be objects of charity, she discovered, and severely
punished them. She was most intimate with John
Archer, Alexander’s father, and many eminent
christians in that neighbourhood. She was eminent
in prayer and wrestling, and had many singular
answers of prayer. It’s a pity so little about her
can now be recoverec .” ‘
The countess died on the 20th of August, 1700.
Sir James Stewart, Lord Advocate of Scotland, after
the Revolution, says, in a letter to Principal Wil-
liam Carstairs, dated August 22, 1700, “The good
Countess of Rothes died Tuesday last, much re-
gretted by all, and very deservedly.” 2 She was
succeeded by her eldest son, J 01111, seventh Earl of
Rothes, who, like his predecessors for at least four
preceding generations, was distinguished for the
excellence of his christian character. He died in
1722, in the prime of life, in the full assurance of
faith. A few hours before his departure, he called
his children one by one, and took farewell of each
of them, speaking to each in particular, and to them
all for nearly two hours, with the greatest serious-
ness and solidity, recommending religion to them as

severe a presser of conformity, as the government
could desire, subjecting such as refused to take the
test to severe oppression by fines, imprisonment,
and other kinds of suffering. 5
Wodrow, in his Analecta, under the year 1730, has
what alone would avail them, when about to pass
from time into eternity.3 The well known Colonel
Blackadder, who was present with him at the last,
says that he never witnessed so christian, calm and
courageous a death. The colonel drew up an account


of his death-bed scene, which is printed from the
November 1825.
In the preceding notices of the Duchess of Rothes,
of her predecessors and descendants, it is interesting
and instructive to see piety passing downward from
parents to children for five successive generations.
This we are no doubt to trace to the sovereign
grace of God, for genuine religionis not transmitted
from parent to child, as a healthy constitution is
transmitted. But it is also to be traced to the
instrumentality of parents, and particularly of re-
ligious mothers, in the godly upbringing of their
children. The Duchess of l’iothes’s mother, the


preserved the following memorial of this lady :—_“I i
am told that the late Duchess or Countess of Rothes,
was one of the most extraordinary persons for reli-
gion and good sense, and eminent acts of charity,
that was in the last age; that her life, could it be
1 Crawford’s Peerage of Scotland, p. 430.
‘1 \Yodmw’s History, vol. iii., p. 300
3 Wodrow refers to the act concerning public debts, passed Sep-
tember 17, 1681, dischargingr such noblemen, barons, and burgesses,
as “ duringthe time of the late troubles and rebellion, did give their
bonds for several great sums of money” “of the said debts and
bonds granted thereupon,” upon condition of their taking the test,
“excepting always the heirs, executors, and successors of the de-
ceased Duke of Rothes, late Lord Chancellor, who, in respect of his
eminent loyalty and service to his majesty, are hereby absolutely
exonered and discharged of the said debts without necessity of
taking the foresaid test upon the account foresaid allenarly.”
'W'odrow MSS, in the Christian Instructor for
4 \Vodrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 300.
6 ma, vol. iii. p. 390 I
1 Vol. iv., p. 172. 2 Carstairs’ State Papers, p. 625.
3 Wodrow’s Correspondence, vol. ii., p. 6H



96 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



Duchess herself, her daughter and her son, all en-
joyed the benefit of the religious instructions, the
persevering prayers, and the holy example of godly
mothers. To the pious endeavours of both parents
to instil the principles of piety into the minds of
their children, God has annexed a special blessing;
but it may be expected in particular that the labours
of christian mothers in this good work will be fol-
lowed by the happiest effects. From their offspring
being in infancy constantly under their care, and

afterwards in childhood and youth more frequently .
in their society than in that of the other parent,
mothers have a more powerful influence than fathers
in forming their character ; and how often, as must
be known to all who are but slightly acquainted
with christian biography, have those who have been
distinguished in their day for piety and extensive
usefulness in the church and in the world, had to
trace their piety and their usefulness to the instruc-
tions, counsels, and admonitions they had received
in their first and more tender years, from their God-
fearing mothers !

LADY MARY JOHNSTON, COUNTESS OF CRAWFORD.
LADY MARY J OITNSTON was the eldest daughter of one and the same time, a genuine Christian and a
James, Earl of Annandale and Hartfell, by his wife true blue Presbyterian.
Lady Henrietta Douglas, daughter of IVilliam, first
The instrument of effecting
this change upon her was Mr. John IVelsh, a minis-
Marquis of Douglas, by his second wife, Lady Mary : ter almost unequalled in the times of persecution,
Gordon. She was married at Leith, on the 8th of for the Christian intrepidity with which he jeopardied
March, 1670, to William, sixteenth Earl of Craw-
ford, and second Earl of Lindsay, the son of John,
Earl of Crawford and Lindsay, of whom some,
notices have already been given,1 and brother to the
Duchess of Rothes, the subject of the preceding‘
sketch.2 Her husband, like his parents, was a non-
conformist, and great deference was paid to him by
the Presbyterians. On this account he was, through-
out the period of the persecution, a marked man;
and, from the danger to which he was exposed, he
once intended to go abroad, though he never went,
but lived in retirement till the Revolution, which
brought him deliverance and honour. 3
The early education and family connections of this
lady tended to prejudice her mind against the suffer-
ing Covenanters. But her marriage into a family
distinguished at once for their warm attachment to
that persecuted body, and for personal piety, was
followed by a great change both upon her personal
character and religious sentiments. She became, at




his life on the mountains and in the moors of Scot-
land, in his ardent and indefatigable zeal to proclaim
to his fellow-countrymen the unsearchable riches of
Christ, and whose intrepid labours of love were
blessed by the Spirit of God for turning multitudes
from disobedience to the wisdom of the just. In
the beginning of the year 167 4,—the first three
months of which, as we have seen, were called “ the
Blink,” from the little molestation then offered to the
ejected ministers in holding conventicles, whether
in houses or in the fields,1 —-Welsh went over from
Edinburgh to Fife with his wife, where he spent about
six weeks in preaching, none presuming either to
pursue him from Edinburgh, or to lay hands on him
in Fife, not even Sharp, who had his residence in
that part of the country, and who of all others most
thirsted for his blood? During that period Welsh
had large meetings both on the Sabbath day and on
week days, at which many of the gentry, attracted
by the weight of his character and by his homely but
powerful eloquence, were often present; the most
of whom seemed to be impressed by the word, and
favourably disposed to the work in which he was
engaged.3 It was at this time that Lady Crawford

1 See p. 89. 2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., pp. 74, 387.
3 He was appointed by King William, president of the parliament,
a commissioner of the treasury, and one of the commission for
settling the government of the church. He was a man of great
political sagacity, and the most active agent in effecting the over-
throw of prelacy at the Revolution. His correspondence during that
eventful period has been printed in the “ Melville and Leven Papers.”
“ His letters,” says Lord Lindsay, who is not disposed to overrate his
merits, “bear the stamp of burning and enthusiastic sincerity,
while in point of taste, though abonnding in scriptural images,
they are unusually graceful and free from cant, and the impression
they leave is more favourable to him than might have been ex-
nected.”-—Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii. p. 174.
1 For the reasons of this temporary cessation from persecution,
see p. 7 9.
2 “None was so busy as Mr. John Welsh, who this spring [1674],
made a perambulation over Fife, and there, in vacant churches, and
sometimes in the fields at Glenvale, at Duraquhair, and other places.
gathered sometimes armies together, for which the gentry and
people both smarted very sore.”—Kirkton’s History, p. 344.
3 Blackadder’s Memoirs, MS. copy. The same writer says, “He


COUNTESS OF CRAWFORD.
97


had an opportunity of hearing him preach for the
first time, in the neighbourhood of her own residence,
Struthers House,1 and his discourse, accompanied
by the influences of the divine Spirit, was the means
of turning her from darkness to light, and from ~the
power of Satan unto God. From that day she be-
came an altered person; the pride of her heart was
humbled, so that, like Mary in the Gospel, she sat at
Jesus’ feet, a teachable disciple, listening to his
voice, and in the whole of her subsequent deport-
ment she exhibited the living marks of a child of
God. Now, indeed, she had not many years to live,
but during the brief course allotted to her on earth,
she exemplified in an eminent degree the power of
vital godliness. In her character were combined
the devotion of the saint and the resolution of the
martyr. Previous to her hearing IVelsh she attended
the curates without scruple, but after that, no argu-
ments and no menaces employed by her relatives
could prevail upon her to go and hear them; and
she embraced every opportunity within her reach of
attending field conventicles. In her the persecuted,
the poor, and the suffering found a sympathizing
friend.2 The vast change she had undergone, her
relatives and acquaintances did not fail to observe ;
and her Christian friends were struck with the
rapidity with which she advanced in all the graces
of the Spirit, outstripping many who had preceded
her in their entrance on the Christian course. Her
husband, who loved her with the tenderest affection,
was improved in character by the imitation of her
virtues, and encomiums upon her worth were extorted
even from enemies.
Of this lady, Mr. John Blackadder has preserved
an interesting memorial in his Memoirs, written by
Himself. After narrating Welsh’s visit to Fife in

[Welsh] was attended from place to place with companies of gentle-
men and others, with great respect and applause.” “ The council,”
says Kirkton, “ set a price upon Mr. Welsh’s head, and for that he
never rode without a guard of horsemen, sometimes more, some-
times less, but seldom exceeding the number of ten horsemen.”
—-Kirkton’s History, p. 380.
1 Struthers, or as it is called in some old papers, Auchter-uther-
Struther, was formerly the seat of the Earls of Crawford. It is now
in ruins, and stands about two miles south-west from the village of
Ceres, Fifcshirc. Its towers and battlements gave it a venerable
and a sort of warlike appearance; but of this once splendid house
there now exist very scanty remains. “The park around the
house," says the old Statistical Account of Scotland, “which is
enclosed with a stone wall, contains about 200 acres of ground-
there are a good many trees in different places of the park, parti:
cularly some venerable beeches of a very large size.” But in the
new Statistical Account of Scotland, it is said that these “venerable
beeches, have died or been cut down.”
2 Mr. John Carstairs in a letter to the Earl of Crawford, dated
May 2, 1678, says, “ I take it for granted your lordship’s excellent
lady and sister covet most the relief of Christ’s oppressed interests,
and that your endeavours therein will be most- acceptable and satis-
fying, as I hope your brother’s sweet lady also doeth.”--Wodrow
MSS. vol. liii., folio, no. 7 8.



l
l
l

the beginning of the year 167 4., and referring to the
“many memorable effects of the power and wisdom
of God, manifested at that time,” by the labours of
that eminent minister, of which he gives some
examples, he says: “ Among others, I must notice,
to the commendation of the grace of God, that
instance concerning Countess Crawford, then called
Lady Lindsay,l daughter to the Earl of Annandale,
by Duke Hamilton’s sister, (whose education was
more likely to have alienated her from that way,
than to ingratiate it to her), she coming to one of
these great meetings at Duraquhair near Cupar, and
near to her own house: she by a special cast of
God’s power, had been induced among others to
come forth one of these great Sabbaths at Dura-
quhair, where it was estimated there were about seven
or eight thousand persons present, and much of the
power of God appeared to the shakingthe consciences,
and awakening the hearts of the generality for the
time, and leaving a lasting impression on others,
among whom this truly honourable lady was one,
who declared she was constrained to close with the
offer that was made in that great day of the gospel;
which was made known to many by manifest fruits
of piety, showed forth in all her walk as a Christian
and dutiful yoke-fellow to her lord, who also received
good impressions of that day’s work, and the llkl.
from her very report of the Lord’s gracious presence
and good she found to her soul that day; which the
writer hereof also had - from herself, with great
majesty and seriousness, in presence of her lord,
who since hath also been helped to carry as aChristian
in the exercise of piety and righteousness, (whereof
he hath given a good proof in dispensing his estate,
to pay his father’s creditors,2 having very little to

1 Her husband was then only Lord Lindsay. He did not become
Earl of Crawford till his father’s death, which took place in 1676.
2He made his nonentailed property responsible for payment of
his father’s debts, “that,” to use his own words, “the memory of so
good a man, and so kind a father, might not suffer by the neglect of
a son that owed all things to him in gratitude as well as duty.”
Melville and Leven Papers, p. ‘259. Mr. John Curstairs,i11 his Epistle
Dedicatory to Durham’s Sermons on Isaiah liii., addressed to the
Earl of Crawford, also speaks in commendation of his lordship’s
christian and exemplary conduct, in “choosing rather contentedly
and satisfiedly to be (if it so please the Lord, and O that it may
not!) the last of that ancient and honourable family, than to be
found endeavouring to keep it from sinking by any sinful and
unwarrantable course, particularly by defrauding just creditors,
(though the debt was not of your lordship’s own contracting)
under whatever specious pretexts and advantages of law; whereof
many make no bones, who, if they may keep up their superfluitics,
care not to ruin their friends engaging in suretyship for their debt,
and to live on the substance of others.” Carstairs adds, “With
great satisfaction I notice how much your lordship makes it your
business to follow your noble ancestors, in so far as they were
‘followers of Christ,’ which many great men, even in the christian
world, alas! do not much mind, not considering that it is true
‘ nobility, where God is the chief and top of the kin, and where
I
religion is at the bottom; and what renown’d Raleigh saith,
N


98
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





himself,) and stedfast soundness in the public cause
of reformation, with as much tenderness, and keeping
at a distance from all steps of defection, as many of
whom more might have been expected, and that to
this day. After the day of this lady’s conversion to
the Lord, and singular reformation, she could never
be induced by all the insinuations and threats of her
near and noble relations, to go back again to the
prelatic preachers and their assemblies, or to coun-
tenance any of the prelates or curates as she had
done, but frequented all occasions of preaching at
these persecuted meetings she could conveniently
win at. She lived and died endeavouring to adorn
her profession by a conversation becoming the
gospel; even to the stopping the mouths of gain-
sayers. What is here declared as to this memorable
instance and effect of the grace and power of Christ
manifested to this lady, I am without fear of any
man’s disproving, beside many the like to others
at these persecuted meetings, called by many in this
degenerate generation unlawful conventicles.” ‘
Lady Crawford died in the year 1682, in the prime
of life?’ This we learn from the Epistle Dedicatory,
prefixed by Mr. John Carstairs to Durham’s Sermons
on Isaiah liii. It is addressed “Unto all afflicted
and cross-bearing serious Christians; and more
particularly, to the Right Honourable and Truly
Noble Lord William, Earl of Crawford,” and is
dated November 15, 1682. After addueing and
illustrating a variety of reasons, why the people of
God should “ sweetly submit themselves to his will
in all things, how cross soever to their own inclina-
tion,” he says, “Let them all, my noble lord, prevail
‘with your lordship in particular, reverently to adore,
silently to stoop unto, and sweetly to acquiesce in,
the Lord’s sovereign, holy, and wise ordering your
many and various complicated trials; and more
especially his late removing your excellent lady, the
desire of your eyes, the Christian and comfortable
companion of your youth, by his stroke.” In the
same Dedication, Carstairs bears testimony to the
distinguished piety of this lady, in these words : “I
am, my noble lord, the more easily prevailed with,
and encouraged to address the dedication of these
sermons to your lordship, more particularly when I
remember ‘the unfeigned faith that first dwelt in
your grandmother,’ as another Lois; and in your


mother, as another Eunice ; 1 and more lately in your
own choice lady, who, as another beloved Persis,
‘laboured much in the Lord;’ 2 (and though she
had but a very short christian race, in which she
was much encouraged by coming into your noble
father’s family, and her beholding how hard your
blessed mother did run and press toward the mark,
even when in the last stage, and turning in a manner
the last stoop of her christian course; yet it was
a very swift one, wherein she did quite outrun many
that were in Christ long before her 3) all three ladies
of honour, almost—if I need to say almost—without
parallels in their times, in the serious and diligent
exercise of godliness, and patterns worthy to be
imitated by others.” Carstairs adds, “And [the
same unfeigned faith dwells] I trust in your lordship
also, yea, and in several others of your elder and
younger noble relations; for grace hath such a
draught of souls amongst you, as it useth not often
to have in societies of so noble extract, ‘for not
many noble are called.’ ”
The loss of this amiable and pious lady gave a
severe shock to the feelings of the earl. Carstairs,
who knew the intensity of his grief, addressed him-
self to the task of administering comfort to his
wounded heart. “ Let all mutinous thoughts about
His dealings with you be silenced with, ‘It’s the
Lord 3’ let not too much dwelling on the thoughts
of your affliction, to the filling of your heart still
with sorrow, incapacitate you for, nor divert you
from, humbly asking the Lord, what he aims at by
all these dispensations, what he would have you to
learn out of them, what he reproveth and contends
for, what he would have you amending your hands
in, and what he would have you more weaned, self-
denied, and mortified in, and what he would have
you a further length and a greater proficient in:
He hath told you ‘ the truth, that these things are
expedient for you; ’ study to find them to be so in
your experience. Sure he hath by them written in
great, legible, and capital characters, yea even as
with a sun’beam, vanity, emptiness, uncertainty,
mutability, unsatisfactoriness, and disappointment
upon the forehead of ‘all creature comforts, and with
a loud voice called your lordship, yet more seriously
than ever, to seek after solid soul satisfaction in his
own blessed and all-sufficient self.” And after observ-
ing that “it is the scattering of our expectations and
desires of happiness among other objects beside him,
that breeds us all our disquiet, anxiety, and vexa-
tion ;” he adds, “ There are some whom he loveth
so well, that he cannot (to speak so) find in his

'Hinc dictus nobilis quasi pm’ alz'z's virtutc notabilz'a ;’ and what
another saith, ‘ Qui ab illustrium mayorum splendida virtuta degen—
erarunt nobilia portenta sunt.’ ”
1 Blackadder’s Memoirs, MS. copy; see also Dr. Crichton’s printed
copy, p. 167.
2 She had issue to the Earl three sons, the eldest of whom was
John, seventeenth Earl of Crawford, and a daughter.—Douglas’s
Peerage, vol. i., p. 387.
12Tim.i.5. 2RonLXvLlQ.



COUN TESS OF CRAWFORD.
99


heart to see them thus to parcel out their affections,
and to dote upon any painted imaginary happiness
in creature-comforts ; and therefore, in design, he
doth either very much blast them as to the expected
satisfaction from them; or quite remove them, that
by making such a vacuity, he may make way for
himself to fill it, and happily to necessitate the per-
son, humbly, prayerfully, and believingly, to put him
to the filling of it. And it is a great vacuity that
he, ‘ who fills heaven and earth,’ cannot fill; a little
of whose gracious presence, and manifested special
love, can go very far to fill up the room that is made
void, by the removal of the choicest and most desir-
able of all earthly comforts and enjoyments. Happy
they, who, when they lose a near and dear relation
or friend, or any idol they are fond of, are helped of
God to make Jesus Christ, as it were, succeed to
the same as its heir, by taking that loss as a sum-
mons to transfer and settle their whole love on him,
the object incomparahly most worthy of it, as being
‘altogether lovely,’ or ‘all desires!’ Cant. v. 16.”
The earl afterwards married for his second wife
Lady Henrietta Seton, only daughter of Charles,
second Earl of Dunfermline, by his wife Lady Mary
Douglas, third daughter of William, Earl of Mor-
ton.l She was the relict of William, fifth Earl of
Ivigton, to whom she was married at Dalgety in
September, 1670, whom she lost by death on the 8th
of April, 1681, and to whom she had issue two sons
and a daughter.2 To the Earl of Crawford she had
a son and six daughters.
Like his former countess, this lady was a woman
of genuine piety, as well as of Presbyterian prin-
ciples ; and, like other ladies of nobility and honour,
she had her own share in the sufferings of those
evil times. She first suffered in her two sons


“ Grievances for Scotland, 1661—1688,”the follow-
ing is included as a grievance: “ The threatening to
take children from parents to breed them papists, and
actually taking my Lord Wigton and his brother.
My Lady Crawford, their mother, came over to
Edinburgh, in great grief and perplexity, a few
weeks before her delivery, but was harshly handled
by the chancellor,1 and on her soliciting the lords
of council for recovery of her children out of his
hands, no man would open his mouth for her.” 2 And
yet this treatment of her children was in glaring
violation of the law. There was indeed at that
period a standing law against Presbyterians being
employed as chaplains or pedagogues in families, or as
teachers in schools, or as professors in colleges, con-
formity to prelacy being an essential qualification
' for all such situations ; but to abstract children from
their parents, and to commit them to teachers for
the purpose of their being trained up in prelacy or
popery, was warranted by no statute even at that
time, when the throne was a throne of iniquity, and
when mischief had been so extensively framed by
law. After the accession of James VII. to the
throne, so gloomy were the anticipations of this lady
as to the future state of matters in Scotland, that she
was very desirous of going abroad. In a letter to
a friend, dated September 8, 1685, speaking of the
considerations which induced him to leave Scotland,
as well of the difiiculties in the way, the earl says,
“ The things that prompt me to go are, first, a pas-
sionate desire in a most dutiful, most affectionate,
and singularly good wife, who is really disquieted
with apprehensions of sad things that are coming on
Scotland; now, when I consider the composedness
, of her temper for ordinary, I have sometimes looked
on this restlessness in her spirit to be gone, as a
by her first husband being taken from her and i warning from God that I should retire.” 3
committed to a teacher to be educated in prelacy
or popery; and when she went to Edinburgh to
complain to the government, and make application
for having them restored to her, her complaint
and request v'ere disregarded. In a paper entitled

= Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 482 * Ibid, vol. ii., p. 637.
l
l

l The Earl of Perth.
'~’ Wodrow MSS., vol. xl., folio, no. 3. In another paper entitled
“ Grievances for Scotland,” this Grievance is thus stated, “ The
imposing of naughty persons to govern children, as one imposed on
my Lord Wigton and his brother, who after betrayed them to the
chancellor.”-Ibid.. vol. 111., folio, no. 7.
1‘ Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 513.









BARBARA CUNNINGHAM, LADY CALDWELL.

BARBARA CUNNINGHAM was descended from the
Cunninghams of Cunninghamhead in Ayrshire, one
of the most ancient and powerful cadets of the Glen-
cairn family, which possessed at one time large pro-
perties in Lanarkshire, and even in Mid-Lothian, as
well as in Cunningham, but which began to decline
about the end of the seventeenth century.‘ Her
ancestors early distinguished themselves as warm
promoters of the Reformation from popery. Her
great-grandfather, 1V illiam Cunningham of Cunning-
hamhead, who joined the Lords of the Congregation,
and maintained with ardent zeal the cause for which
they erected their standard, sat in the memorable
parliament of August, 1560, which approved and
ratified the Confession of Faith, and abolished the
jurisdiction of the pope throughout the kingdom of
Scotland. His name appears at the most important
public documents of the Scottish Reformers, as
at “Ane Contract of the Lords and Barons, to
defend the Liberty of the Evangell of Christ,” in
1560; at the Book of Discipline, which he sub-
scribed January 27, 1561, as one of the members of
the privy council; and at the famous Band for the
support of the Reformed Religion, in 1562. He
was a member of the assembly of 1565, which was
so obnoxious to Queen Mary and the Roman Catho-
lics, and was one of five commissioners sent to the
queen by that assembly, with certain articles,—the
first of which was that the mass and all papistical
idolatry and jurisdiction should be universally abo-
lished throughout the realm—humbly desiring her
to ratify and approve the same in parliament? Her
father, Sir William Cunningham of Cunninghamhead,
succeeded his father, John, about the year 1607,
and was created a baronet in 1627. He was twice
married; first, in 1619, to Elizabeth, daughter of
Mr. Thomas Nicolson, commissary of Aberdeen, by
whom he had Sir William, who succeeded him,3 and


Barbara, the subject of this notice. He had several
other children of this marriage, but they all. died
either unmarried or without issue. He married,
secondly, Lady Margaret Campbell, daughter of
Lord Loudon, but of this marriage there was no
issue. He died about the year 16110. ‘
Barbara Cunningham was married, in 1657, to
TVilliam Muir of Caldwell? and hence by the courtesy
of the time she was usually styled Lady Caldwell.
This “honourable and excellent gentleman,” as he
is called by Wodrow, zealously adhered to the minis-
ters ejected in 1662, and was among the first who
left off attending the ministry of the intruded
curates. On the ejectment of Mr. Hugh Walker,
the minister of Neilston, from his charge, by the
act of the privy council at Glasgow, in 1662, Muir
of Caldwell, who resided in that parish, ceased to
attend the parish church, for which he was in some
danger of being involved in trouble. Mr. John
Carstairs, in a letter to Lady Ralston, dated March
6, 1663, says, “The people here and in the parts
about are likely to be sorely put to it, if the Lord
do not graciously prevent; they imprison some of
them for not hearing both in this town and elsewhere.
The Lord Cochrane is very zealous in this good cause.
Some of Neilston parishioners are in prison at Pais~
ley on that account, and Caldwell was cited by the
lord chancellor to appear before the council at Edin-
burgh, because he would not promise to hear after-
ward. He should have appeared yesterday, but he
got the first day put by; whether he will get his
appearance shifted altogether I know not. I heard
(and it seems by that same zealous man’s means)
that some din was made to the lord chancellor about
Caldwell, Dunlop, and the Laird’s 3 keeping meet-
ings together at Paisley. Some were afraid the chan-
cellor would have called for the laird, but I have
heard nothing since; it’s like it will evanish and
settle down again.” 4 Lady Caldwell, being of simi-

1 Robertson’s Ayrshire Families, vol. i., p. 303.
2 Ibid., vol. i., p. 305. Knox’s History, Wodrow Society edition,
vol. i., p. 366; and vol. ii., pp. 61, 258, 349, 486. Robertson is mis-
taken when he says that the “laird of Cunningham,” who was a
member of the Assembly of 1565, was Barbara Cunningham’s great
grand-uncle, John Cunningham, brother to her great-grandfather,
William Cunningham. It was her greatgrandfather himself, who
was a member of that Assembly. He died in January, 1576.
3His son, Sir William, who succeeded him, like his daughter,
Barbara, suffered not a little during the persecution, as we learn
firom Wodrow’s History. Besides being fined by Middleton’s parlia-
ment in 1662, above £200 sterling, he was imprisoned for several
years in Stirling Castle. He died in 1670.
1 Robertson’s Ayrshire Families, vol. i., pp. 306-308.
2 Fountainhall’s Decisions of the Lords of Session, &c., vol. ii.,
p. 558. William had succeeded his brother James, who died with-
out issue in 1654. Crawford’s History of Renfrewshire, Robertson’s
edition, p. 307.
3 The Laird of Ralston.
4 Wodrow MSS., vol. xlv., 8V0, no. 52.



LADY CALDWELL.
101



lar ecclesiastical principles with her husband, no
doubt acted in a similar manner.
The sufferings of this lady in the cause of religion
and liberty, may be said to have commenced in the
year 1666, after the unsuccessful attempt of the
Covenanters at Pentland Hills. Her husband and
a few gentlemen in the west, having gathered
together a small company of horsemen, amounting
to about fifty, intended to join the Covenanters
under Colonel YVallace, who were then near Edin-
burgh ; but being informed, after proceeding a short
way on their journey, that General Dalziel was
between them and their friends, they dispersed.
Caldwell, who was captain of that little band, soon
after found it necessary to provide for his safety by
flight, and concealing himself for some time, he
succeeded in getting safely over to Holland, where,
like many others of his expatriated countrymen, he
found a secure retreat, but from which he never
returned to his native land. Meanwhile he was
prosecuted by his niajesty’s advocate, before the
lords justiciary, for high treason, simply because he
had been on the road to join those in arms; and on
the 16th of August, 1667, being found guilty of
treason by a jury in his absence, he was sentenced
to undergo capital punishment, and to be demeaned
as a traitor, when he should be apprehended, and all
his lands, tenements, annual rents, offices, titles,
tacks, dignities, steadings, rooms, possessions, goods
and gear whatsoever, were declared to be forfeited
to his majesty’s use.l On the 12th of October, the
privy council appointed James Dunlop, of Househill,
to uplift Muir of Caldwell’s rents for the year 1667,
and bygone terms since the rebellion, and in future
years, and to take an exact inventory of his whole
movable goods and gear. His excellent estate, it
is said, was at this time promised to General Dalziel,
as a reward to the General for his success in sup-
pressing the Pentland insurrection. It was not,
however, actually gifted to him till July 11, 1670,
when Charles granted in his favoura charter, under
the great seal of the kingdom of Scotland, in due
form, disponing to him, his heirs and assignees what-
soever, in perpetuity the lands of Muir of Caldwell;
and every means was taken to render the gift secure.
On the 22d of August, 1670, an act of parliament
was passed ratifying the royal grant, and giving

validity to all steps taken to secure the estate to
him and his heirs z'rz perpetuate; and on the 8th of
October that same year,he was infefted in the estate.1
These proceedings against Muir of Caldwell, it is
obvious, could not but deeply strike against Lady
Caldwell. By the sentence of forfeiture pronounced
upon him, she, though not the object avowedly aimed
at, suffered in fact as much as he suffered himself.
It affected the temporal comfort of herself and her
children, as much as it affected his. WVhile he
remained lurking in the country, she had to endure
the anxiety arising from the danger to which he was
exposed of falling into the hands of the government,
and during that time, or after he had made his escape
to Holland, she suffered, previous to her joining him,
many hardships at home. The work of spoilation
by Dalziel and his associates was then golng on at
the house and on the property of Caldwell, under
her own eye. Of the extent to which the work
was carried, some idea may be formed from a list
of the losses she had sustained during the perse-
cution, contained in the libel in the action she
Dalziel, before the court of session, after the revolu-
tion, claiming reparation. This list enumerates the
loss of “thirty-six milk and yield cows, at 20 lbs.
Caldwell, and were in his own possession in the
year 1666; a great gelding worth 50 lbs. sterling;
four other horses at 100 lbs. per piece, together with
the whole growth of the Mains of Caldwell, the said
crop 1666, both corn and fodder, to the value of
2,000 merks ; fifty bolls of meal lying in the
girnels at the said time, at 10 merks per boll; the
whole plenishing, utensils and domicils, to the value
of 3,000 merks; three terms rent preceding Mar-
tinmas 1667, of the said estate of Caldwell, extend-
ing to 10,500 merks introniitted with, by the said
General Thomas Dalziel, before he obtained the gift
of Caldwell’s forfeiture; three hay stacks standing in
the cornyard of the said Mains of Caldwell, at 100
merks per piece; the whole growth of little Mains,
which was in the Lady Caldwell’s elderfher own
hands, with the corn and fodder, and a hay stack, ex-
tending to the value of 550 lbs. Scots.” 3 In the same
document, it is stated that General Dalziel at Martin-
mas,1666, intromitted with and took away from Lady
Caldwell the furniture of the house of Caldwell.
At last Lady Caldwell went over to Holland to join
her husband, who, it appears, had taken up his resi

1 These proceedings were unquestionably illegal; for “all processes
of forfeiture before the justice court, in absence, were contrary to
the act 90th, parliament 11, James VI ”-—Morison’s Dictionary of
the Decisions of the Court of Se~sien, p. 4695. The government,
well aware of thi<, had recourse to an expedient to secure them-
selves and give validity to these proceedings. With this view, an
act of parliament was passed postfacto in 1669, ratifying these for-
feitures, and declaring them legal where it is for rising in arms and
perduelliou—Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 14.’). Fountainhall’s
Decisions, vol. ii., p. 558.
1 Proceedings of Parliament, February 20, 1707, in Acts of th.
Parliament of Scotland, vol. xi., p. 103.
2 William Muir of Caldwell’s mother.
3 Proceedings of Parliament, February 20, 1707, in Acts of the
‘l Parliament of Scotland, vol. XL, Appendix.

and her daughter brought against the grandson of
per piece, which belonged to William Mure of




102. THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



dence in Rotterdam. Whatever might be her out-
ward temporal circumstances while in Holland, she
and her husband were protected in their life and
property; they were allowed, without restriction, to
worship God according to the dictates of their
conscience ; and they enjoyed a select and congenial
society in those excellent ministers and laymen,
with their wives, who, from similar causes, had been
under the necessity of taking shelter in that country,
from the fury of persecution. Both of them, as we
learn from the correspondence of that period, were,
during their exile, very highly esteemed by these
refugees. Robert M‘I’Vard not only describes Muir
of Caldwell as a man of great intelligence and remark-
able for the elegance and felicity of language with
which he expressed himself on ecclesiastical and
religious subjects, but assigns him the first place
in his day among the pious gentlemen of Scotland.
“As a companion,” says he, “ we had but one Cald-
well amongst all the gentlemen I knew or yet know
in Scotland.” 1 And speaking of Lady Caldwell, he
says, “Who did also cheerfully choose to be his fellow
exile and companion in tribulation, as she desired
to be in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ.” 2
But she had not resided long in Holland when
she was afflicted with the loss of her husband, who
died at Rotterdam, 011 Wednesday the 9th of
February, 1670, his death, as was believed, having
been hastened by the grief he felt on account of the
calamitous state of the church in his native country.
She had, however, under this trial the satisfaction of
reflecting that she had been able to attend him
under his last illness, and of witnessing the peace
of mind, and the hopes of eternal glory, which sus-
tained and cheered him on the bed of death. His
dying words were noted down by Mr. Robert
M‘Ward, who observes that, as “he uttered them
at several times during his few days’ sickness, and
as they were gathered from the memories of some
gracious persons who were present, it will not be
expected that they can be set down altogether in
that order, liveliness and elegancy of phrase, (wherein
he had a peculiar happiness,) as they were spoken
by him.” Referring to the cause of his banishment,
Caldwell said, “I am in perfect peace and quiet of
mind. There is no inconsistency between obeying
of God and man. Help, O Lord! we can have no
liberty but what is clogged (as we apprehend) with
great slavery. If we cannot get living in the world
like men, let us be helped to die like men, in the
avowing of the truth of our God.” He also said,
“ King Charles, we are content to give thee all thine

1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lviii., folio, no. 74.
2 Ibid., vol. lxviii., folio, no. 23.

own ; but do not, may not, give thee that which is
only due unto King Jesus, and unto none else.”
On another occasion he said, “I have forsaken all
for thee, 0 Father, Son, and blessed Spirit! to whom
he praise for ever and ever.” But that it might not
be supposed that he built on this his hopes of
heaven, he added, “Jesus hath paid the price, he
hath satisfied his Father’s justice to the full ; I have
laid all over on the cautioner, and he hath assured
me that he hath undertaken all for me. He hath
overcome, he hath overcome; he will bruik his
crown in spite of men and devils.” He repeatedly
bore testimony to the worth of his wife. One time,
011 his desiring her to be called for, and it beingtold
him that being very sick, she had lain down to rest,
he said, “ Tell her that she and I shall be in heaven
for ever and ever, and there we shall eat angels’
food.” “At another time, being strongly assaulted
by the tempter, the Lord having given him great
victory over him, (as his gracious manner of dealing
with him usually was,) he cried out, ‘I adjure thee,
Satan, unto the bottomless pit, to go into everlasting
chains, and to outer darkness, where there is weep-
ing, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.’ Then being a
little silent, immediately he cried out, ‘ Trouble not
Barbara Cunningham, for she is one of God’s elect :’
and again, and again, after a little silence, he cried,
‘ I say, tempt her not, for she is assuredly an elect
vessel.’ He said further, ‘My faithful spouse, my
faithful spouse, most faithful hast thou been unto
me,’ (which was his ordinary expression to her, and
of her,) and did bless the Lord heartily that ever
he saw her, and was joined unto her. He had often
that expression after the most fierce and horrible
assaults of Satan, ‘Victory! victory! victory for
evermore ! ’ ” 1 M‘Ward pronounces upon him
the following encomiumz—“And really the death
of this precious gentleman is so much the more to
be laid to heart and lamented, that as he was such
a hopeful and promising instrument for promot-
ing the interest of Christ’s kingdom, in his station
and generation, and had, upon mature deliberation
and choice, very singly and unbiasedly for Christ
and the gospel’s sake, quit and forgone a considerable
and ancient inheritance, with his native country, and
the fellowship of all his natural relations, except of
his lady only—so in as far as could be judged by godly,
judicious and sober men, in regard to a procuring
means, the present sad condition of the Church of
Scotland, and of the work of God therein, was the
occasion of his death; such a warm hearted and
kindly sympathizing son of Zion he was, and so sad
I Wodrow MSS., vol. lxviii, folio, no. 23.





U
LADY CALDWELL.
103


a lift did he take of that which, alas! many of his
mother’s children walk too easily and lightly under;
though the most accurate observer could never all
the while of his sojourning as an exile abroad, nor
along his sickness, hear him let so much as one word
fall savouring the least dissatisfaction with, or un-
pleasant resentment of, his lot as to outward things.” 1
And in a letter to Lady Caldwell, M‘IVard says,
“He had the care of the church, besides all the
things that were without and within, so much upon
his heart, that after he had lost houses and lands,
and country and friends, for the interest of his
Master’s glory, as counting all these too little to have
lost, and too low a signification of that love to his
Master, and that zeal of his house which did eat
him up, he did, by choice, sacrifice his very life upon
that interest, and became one of our greatest and
most glorious martyrs.” 2
On the death of her husband, Lady Caldwell
returned to Scotland. Upon her return she went,
it would appear, to take up her residence at Cald-
well House, and provided herself with new furniture.
But in that mansion she was not permitted long to
reside. The forfeited estate of Caldwell having been
gifted to Dalziel a few months after her husband’s
death, she was compelled to quit Caldwell House,
and to seek a home, as she best could find it, for
herself and her four fatherless children, three of
whom were daughters. And not content with her
simple ejectment, Dalziel took away the furni-
ture of Caldwell House which she had procured,
amounting to the value of 500 merks.3 She was
besides deprived of all visible means of supporting
herself and her children 5 for though, by her marriage
contract, an annual rent jointure, suitable to her rank,
was secured to her from the lands of Caldwell, and


she had been actually infefted in the estate prior to
its forfeiture, yet, as we shall afterwards see, she
was deprived of this her just right.
Greatly changed were her circumstances now from
what they were during the first eight or nine years
after her marriage, when she lived at Caldwell House
in aflluence, and day followed day without any cause
for worldly care or anxiety. But she was not dis-
couraged. She did not distrust in adversity the God
whom she had trusted and served in prosperity.
Confiding in his promises, she believed that He
would provide for her‘and hers ; and possessing too
much self respect to be dependent for the means of
subsistence on the bounty of others, she with her
virtuous children, set themselves diligently to the
task of supporting themselves by the labour of their
own hands. Nor was she ever burdensome to any
person, not even to her nearest relations ; and if at
times, when reduced to straits, she was under the
necessity of applying to them for a temporary loan
of money, she afterwards thankfully and fully repaid
it. Kind friends, whose sympathy was excited by
her afflicted lot, and who were afraid she might be
in pecuniary diiliculties, repeatedly offered her money,
but her noble spirit of independence shrunk from the
acceptance of all such assistance. In reference to
a sum of money which some friend in Holland had
sent through Mr. Robert M‘IVard of Rotterdam, to
Mr. John Carstairs, to be communicated to her,
Carstairs in a letter to M‘IVard, dated February 8,
1678, says, “The Lady Caldwell was impersuasiblc
in that matter, though I showed her at her desire
from whom it was, she having never taken from any,
of which boasting she is resolved not to be deprived,
so long as she is able to live otherwise, which hath
made me after this and some former essays, resolve
not to trouble her. She desired me kindly to thank
you in her name. I returned the money again to
Mr. \Vatson.” ‘
In this humble condition, Lady Caldwell, with her
daughters, continued for many years, struggling for
the means of subsistence, but contented and happy,
-—happier far, indeed, than that barbarous and un-
principled man could possibly be, who now wrong-
fully possessed, and had full and unlimited dominion
over the manor-house, the yards and orchards, the
woods and meadows, throughout the liberties of
Caldwell. To a woman of her independent temper


1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lxviii., folio, no.
‘- Ibid, vol. lviii., folio, no. 74.
3This is included in the enumeration of her losses during the
persecution, contained in the libel in the action she and her daughter
raised against the grandson of Dalziel, before the court of session
after the Revolution. in the same document, the following losses
are added, “Item, the sum of 12,000 merks received by the general,
or his said son, or their factors, from the respective tenants of the
lands for tacks in name of grassum, or entry at Whitsunday 1671.
Item, 6000 merks received by them from the feuars and vassals of
the said estate, for entering them and other casualties that occurred
during that time. Item, 10,0(0 merks sustained of damage through
the said pursuer’s [Sir Thomas Dalziel’s] father demolishing the
tower and manor place of Caldwell the time foresaid, and of the
bygone rents of the lands, and others life-rented by the said Barbara
Cunningham, and others particularly libelled.”——Froin Decreet
Absolvitor, Sir Thomas Dalziel of Binns against the Laird and Lady
Caldwell, in Proceedings of Parliament, 20th February, 1707, in Acts
of the Scottish Parliament. It may here be stated, that to make the
most of Caldwell’s estate, which he had unjustly acquired, Dalziel,
quarrelling the tacks of the tenants as set beneath their true value,
instituted a process against the tenants before the lords of session
for removing them. although they had standing tacks of their several
rooms granted them long before the forfeiture for years to run. But
the case was decided against him. On January 28, 1674, “the
lords of session decerned that where the tenants were innocent, and
did not concur in the crime, [of treason, for which Caldwell was for-
feited,] and had but tacks of an ordinary endurance, they should
stand valid for the years to run after the forfeiture.”—Morison’8
Dictionary of Decisions, pp. 4685-4689.
1 Wodrow MSS., vol. lix., folio, no. 77.
l______.
104
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



of mind, it would be a high satisfaction to reflect
that, though poor, she and her children were a burden
to nobody. But she was encouraged and supported
by nobler sentiments and more divine consolations.
The losses and sufferings she had sustained had been
endured in the cause of Christ, and she did not regret
having been called to undergo them in so good a
cause. She accounted them her crown, her glory.
She took joyfully the spoiling of her goods, knowing
that she had in heaven a better and a more enduring
substance. And, in the meantime, she had experi-
enced that in proportion as her sufferings for Christ
abounded, her consolations in Christ did much more
abound. This, in her estimation, was of greater value
than the largest earthly revenue; and the longer she
lived, the more strongly was her heart inclined, what-
ever difficulties and tribulations might intervene and
oppose, to “ hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing
of the hope firm unto the end.” Such were the
sentiments and feelings to which she gave expression
in a letter to Colonel James I/Vallace, the friend of
her husband. This letter has not been preserved,
but its import we learn from Colonel Wallace’s reply,
which, though without date, appears to have been
written either in 1677 or 1678; and the portion of
it, illustrative of the christian character of Lady
Caldwell, may here be quoted.
“ Etnc'r LADY AND MY WoRTHY AND DEAR SIS-
TER,—Yours is come to my hand in most acceptable
time. It seems that all that devils or men these
many years have done (and that has not been little,)
against you, to daunt your courage, or to make you,
in the avowing of your Master and his persecuted
interests, to lower your sails, has prevailed so little,
that your faith and courage are upon the growing
hand, an evidence indeed as to your persecutors of
perdition, but to you of salvation and that of God.
It seems when you at first, by choice, took Christ by
the hand to be your Lord and portion, that you wist
what you did; and that notwithstanding of all the
hardnesses you have met with in hiding by him,
your heart seems to cleave the faster to him. This
says you have been admitted into much of his com-
pany and fellowship. My soul blesses God on your
behalf, who hath so carried to you, that I think you
may take these words amongst others as spoken to
you, " You have continued with me in my afflictions :
I appoint unto you a kingdom.’ It seems suffering
for Christ, losing any thing for him, is to you your
glory, is to you your gain. More and more of this
spirit- may you enjoy, that you may be among the
few (as was said of Caleb and Joshua) that follow
him fully, among the overcomers, those noble over-

comers mentioned Rev. ii. and iii., among those to
whom only (as picked out and chosen for that end)
he is saying, ‘ Ye are my witnesses.’ Lady and my
dear Sister, I am of your judgment; and I bless his
name that ever he counted me worthy to appear in
that roll.” He concludes thus :——“Let us mind one
another. My love to all friends whom you know
I love in the Lord. God’s grace be with you, and
his blessing upon your little ones, whom he hath
been a father to l ” 1
As has been said before, though by her marriage
contract Lady Caldwell had secured to her, from
the lands of Caldwell, an annual rent jointure, and
had been actually infefted in the estate, prior to
its forfeiture} she was deprived of this right. As
might be expected, Dalziel, instead of respecting
her rights, left no means untried to set them aside.
In the beginning of the year 1680, as donator to
the forfeited estate of Caldwell, he pursued her for
mails and duties. She defended herself upon the
ground of her liferent infeftment. The base artifice
with which her defence was met on the part of Dal-
ziel is worthy of notice. Among other things, it
was alleged for him, first, that Lady Caldwell’s hus-
band was yet alive, so that her liferent existed not;
and secondly, that she herself was in the late rebel-
lion, in June, 167 9. Both allegations were equally
untrue. Her husband was not then alive, having
died in Holland in 1670; and the slanderous defa-
mation that she was in the rebellion at Bothwell
Bridge was, doubtless, brought forward to injure
her cause, by creating prejudices against her, in the
minds of her judges. On her bringing an action
against Dalziel before the lords of session, for her
jointure from the forfeited estate, the lords, in No-
vember, 1682, found that though she had been in-
fefted upon her contract of marriage, yet, as her
right was not confirmed by the Earl of Eglinton,
her husband’s immediate superior,3 her right fell
under the forfeiture, and that by the forfeiture of a

1 M‘Crie’s Memoirs of Veitch and Brysson, 820., pp. 371~°73. The
letter is taken from the Wodrow MSS. It is addressed on the back,
“ For the Lady Caldwell, at Glasgow.”
2 Sir William Cunningham, of Cunninghamhead, in his account of
the Sufi‘erings of Lady Caldwell, preserved among the Wodrow MSS.
(vol. xxxiii, folio, no. 57), incorrectly says that she had “neglected
to take infeftment ;” and Wodrow, whose account of her Suffer-ings
is taken from that document, falls into a similar mistake.—( History,
vol. iii., p. 440.) Fountainhall says, “ Mure of Caldwell, being mar-
ried to Cunningham’s daughter in 1657, he infefts her in a life-rent-
jointure, partly by way of locality, and partly an annuity.”—His
Decisions, &c., p. 558. But though she was infefted upon her con-
tract of marriage, her right was not confirmed by the Earl of Eglin-
ton, of whom her husband held immediately his lands.—~Morison’s
Dictionary of Decisions, pp 4690-4693.
3Her right was not confirmed by him previous to the forfei-
ture, though it was confirmed by him during the time of the
debate.



LADY CALDWELL.
105






sub-vassal, (whether the king’s immediate or mediate
vassal,) not only his own right, but all rights flowing
from him, were carried.l
Fora considerable number of years after her return
from Holland, Lady Caldwell had not experienced
personal annoyance on account of her nonconforming
principles, but was allowed, without disturbance, to
pursue the peaceful occupations by which she and
her children earned for themselves the means of
subsistence. Indeed, considering what she had
already suffered in being deprived of all her worldly
substance, the governn'ient might have been ashamed
to subject her to additional hardships and more accu-
inulated sorrow. But arbitrary and persecuting
governments are as little affected by a sense of
shame as by a sense of justice. In the year 1683,
about twelve years after her return from the Conti-
nent, during which time she had lived in industrious
and contented poverty, chiefly, it would appear, at
Glasgow, the storm of persecution suddenly burst
upon her head. Without indictment or trial she
was made prisoner, and confined in one of the state
prisons for upwards of three years. The cause of
her imprisonment, and the hardships she endured
during its continuance, we shall briefly relate, as
affording a striking instance of the extreme disre-
gard of justice, and the utter heartlessness ‘which
characterized the men who administered the affairs
of our country in the times of which we write. 2
The circumstance in which her imprisonment ori-
ginated was the false information that a recusant
minister had been preaching in her house. To make
the narrative intelligible to the reader, it is neces-
sary to state that the house in which she lived, which
was in Glasgow, was near the foot, and upon the
east side, of the street called the Saltmarket, and
that the windows consisted mostly of timber boards,
there being only a few inches of glass above the
boards. One would suppose that it would have
been difficult, or rather impossible, for any person,
from the opposite side of the street, to discover,
through the small pieces of glass at the top, what
was going on in the interior of the house. But in
those days it was no uncommon thing for base indi-

l Morison’s Dictionary of Decisions, pp. 4690-4693.
2 Our narrative is taken chiefly from Sir William Cunningham’s
MS. account of Lady Caldwell’s sufferings, already referred to. It
may here be stated, that Sir William was not Lady Caldwell’s brother,
as Dr. Burns, in his edition ofWodrow"s History, supposes, (vol iii.,
p. 441,) but her brother’s son, her brother, as we have seen before,
(p_ 100,) having died in 1670, when he was succeeded by his eldest
son, the writer of that account. The son, like the father, was a
sufferer in those evil times, even when a schoolboy, incapable of
giving much offence, or <reating much alarm.—See Wodrow’s
History, vol. ii., pp. 428, 429. He married Anne, daughter of Sir
Archibald Stuart of Castlemilk, but had no issue, and died in 1724-.
—P.obertson’s Ayrshire Families, vol. i, p. 368.

viduals,l either from pure malignity or in the ‘mer-
cenary hope of reward, to give false informations to
the government and their underlings against the
persecuted Presbyterians; and in the present case
a person of this stamp, who lived on the opposite
side of the street, affirmed that one night, on looking
from his own house on the west side of the street,
just opposite to her house, he saw a minister preach-
ing in her chamber. He immediately repaired to the
Lord Provost of Glasgow, whose name was Barns, a
man of known hostility to the Presbyterians, and
informed him of what he pretended he had seen. The
provost, incited by Mr. Arthur Ross, then archbishop
of Glasgow, whom he had informed of the case, pro-
ceeded so far as to give orders for the apprehension
of Lady Caldwell and her three daughters, who lived
with her, and they were all imprisoned in the tolbooth
of Glasgow. This was done, be it observed, before
they were convicted of any fault, and solely upon the
information of a single person, whose information
might justly be suspected of falsehood, it being hardly
credible that he could discover by candle light through
two glasses—his own window and the few inches of
glass which were at the top of her’s—atthe distance
of so broad a street, a minister preaching in the
house, had a minister at the time been so engaged.
In vain was redress to be looked for from the lords
of his majesty’s privy council, for they were the very
fountain of oppression, the chief instruments of
destroying the civil and religious liberties of their
country. On being informed of the case, probably
by the archbishop of Glasgow, the privy council
not only approved of the illegal proceedings of the
provost of Glasgow, but gave orders, May 22, 1683,
that Lady Caldwell and her eldest daughter, Miss
Jean, should be carried prisoners to the Castle of
Blackness? by a strong guard. The orders were

1 These were either renegadcs from the Presbyterian faith, or the
lowest and most degraded of' the people.
2 Blackness Castle is an ancient royal fortress, in the parish of
Carriden, Linlithgowshire. It is situated at the eastern extremity
of the parish, on the south side of the Birth of Perth, on a rocky
promontory, projecting into the Firth. It is built in the form of a
ship, and is one of the oldest fortifications of Scotland, being a regu.
lar fort of four bastions, which, along with the fortifications on the
small island of Inchgarvie, seems completely to command the pas-
sage of the Forth to Stirling. It is one of the four ancient national
fortresses that, by the articles of union, are required to be kept in
constant repair; the other three being the castles of Edinburgh,
Stirling, and Dumbarton. The period of its erection is unknown.
During the struggle between Presbytery and Prelacy in the reign of
James VL, it was used as a place of confinement for those ministers
and lavmen who had become obnoxious to the government for their
asssertion of the principles of religious liberty. Here Mr. John
Welsh, minister of Ayr, and five other ministers, were, for holding a
general assembly at Aberdeen, in July, 1605, in opposition to the
wishes of the monarch, confined from August that year till to—
wards the close of the following year, when they were banished
the king’s dominions, not to return upon the pain of death. The
O




106
THE LADIES Cl‘ THE COVENANT






strictly executed, and Lady Caldwell continued a
prisoner there for a period of more than three years,
and her daughter for nearly six months.
.
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Had the charge brought against Lady Caldwell
been substantiated,—-had it been proved that, at
the time specified, a nonconforming minister had
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"I; as -
' am -. .. 5 '_‘~\
Lady Caldwell and her Daughter taken to Prison.
been preaching in her house,—she and her daughter
would, no doubt, have been liable to the severe
penalties of the unrighteous and cruel laws then in
force against conventicles. By an act of parliament,
passed in August, 1670, outed ministers not licensed
by the council, and any other persons not authorized
by the bishop of the diocese, are prohibited from
preaching, expounding scripture, or praying in any
meeting except in their own houses, and to those
of their own family, under severe penalties; and by
the same act it is “statute and commanded that


none be present at any meeting, where any not
licensed, authorized, nor tolerated, as said is, shall
preach, expound scripture, or pray,” except the
minister’s own family, and it is declared “ that every
person who shall be found to have been present at
any such meetings shall be, toz‘z'es guotz'es, fined
according to their qualities, in the respective sums
following, and imprisoned until they pay their fines,
and further during the council’s pleasure. . . . .
And if the master or mistress of any family, where
any such meetings shall be kept, be present within
the house for the time, they are to be fined in the
double of what is to be paid by them for being pre-
sent at a house conventicle.”1 And in an act of
parliament, June, 167 2, in reference to the part of
the preceding act which prohibits nonconforming
ministers, not licensed by the council, or not having
authority from the bishop of the diocese, “from
preaching, expounding scripture, or praying in any
meeting, except in their own houses, and to those
of their own family,” it is said, “ since there may
be some questions and doubts concerning the mean-
ing and extent of that word pray , his majesty doth,
with advice foresaid, declare that it is not to be
understood as if thereby prayer infamilies were dis-

dungeon in which Welsh was immured is still pointed out. It is
the lower cell on the west part of the building. The visiter who
enters it is enabled to form some idea of what our forefathers suf—
fered in the cause of civil and religious freedom. It is of small
dimensions. The floor is the bare unequal rock, on which one can
neither stand nor walk with any measure of comfort; and the
only means by which light and air are admitted is a chink in the
wall. Blackness Castle was at length allowed to fall into disrepair,
but as the persecution of Charles II. advanced, to find room for
the Whig prisoners, it was again fitted up as a place of confine-
ment. “ 24th June, 1677. The council wrote a letter to his majesty,
desiring he would be pleased to grant warrant to his thresurie for
lifting as much money as will repair the Castle of Blackness for
holding prisoners, the Bass being already full. His majesty sent
down a warrant conform.”—Fountainhall’s Historical Notices, p-
169. Blackness Castle was repaired in the year 1679, “ designed,”
says Row, “ to be a prison as formerly under the old bishops.”—Life
of Robert Blair, p. 567. And within its gloomy walls many Cove-
nanters were immured for years. In a dungeon still called “The
Whigs’ vault,” a dozen or a score of them, according to tradition,
would sometimes be confined together as so many cattle.
1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 169.




LADY CALDWELL.
107






charged by the persons of the family, and such as
shall be present, not exceeding the number of four
persons, besides those of the family; [but] it is
always declared that this act doth not give allow-
ance to any outed minister to pray in any families
except in the parishes where they be allowed to
preach.” ‘ Even the indulged ministers could not,
according to the acts of the indulgence, September,
1672, have preached in the private house of a friend
without involving themselves and their hearers in the
violation of these laws; and they were laws still in
force, in so far as Glasgow was concerned; for al-
though a proclamation, suspending the laws against
house conventicles on the south side of the river Tay,
was issued, dated June 29, 1679, “ the town of Edin-
burgh and two miles around it, with the lordships
of Musselburgh and Dalkeith, the cities of St. An-
drews and Glasgow and Stirling, and a mile about
- each of them” are excepted. 2 Had Lady Caldwell
and her daughter then been convicted of the charge
brought against them, they would, according to the
iniquitous laws then in force, have been liable to be
fined, and, failing to pay their fines, to be impri-
soned.3
But they were not convicted of the breach of any
law. Their imprisonment was therefore illegal.
Presbyterian ministers were 'ideed in the habit of
paying visits to Lady Caldwell, and they frequently
preached in her house; but this was never proved;
and in reference to the particular charge, on the
ground of which she was imprisoned, she always
denied that, at the time specified by her accuser,
any person was preaching in her house, and the con-
trary was never established against her. No attempt
was indeed made to prove the charge; the very forms
of law were disregarded; no judicial procedure was
gone through; a summary and arbitrary course,
which bore injustice on its very front, was adopted,


—a course naturally tending to destroy all security
of personal liberty, and to beget a universal dis-
trust; for any one might have been arrested upon
a similar charge, and however innocent, have been
consigned to a dungeon.
The treatment of Lady Caldwell and her eldest
daughter was not only illegal and tyrannical, it was
also barbarously cruel. It was robbing of her liberty,
a lady who had nothing else under God but the fruits
of her own industry, to support herself and her chil-
dren, and against whom nothing could be found by
her persecutors, save only that “ after the way which
they called heresy, she worshipped the God of her
fathers.”
When brought to the Castle of Blackness, she and
her daughter were kept close prisoners, except that
the governor, who was disposed to favour them,
sometimes, though at his peril, allowed them to visit
his lady, whose room was immediately below the
cell in which they were confined. The society of the
two captives would serve in some degree to relieve
the tedious hours of their imprisonment; but after
the lapse of nearly six months,1 Miss Jean, who
was only about twenty years of age, began to suffer
in her health, in consequence of her close contine-
ment, which excited painful apprehensions in her
mother, whose sense of her own sufferings was for
the time absorbed in the deep and distressing con-
cern which she felt for her afliicted daughter. Lady
Caldwell having conveyed to some of her relations
information respecting the indisposition of Miss
Jean, and begged them to interpose their kind
assistance for obtaining her release for the recovery
of her health, application was made to the privy
council by several of her relations, for the liberation
of the two ladies, or at least for the liberation of the
indisposed daughter. After much trouble and no
small expense, an order was at last obtained for the
latter being set at liberty. In answer to a petition
which she presented to the privy council to that
effect, accompanied with the testimonials of physi-
cians as to her ill health, the following act of council
was passed :—
“ 11th September, 1683.
“ The lords of his majesty’s privy council having
heard and considered a petition presented by Jean
Mare, prisoner in the Castle of Blackness, for several
alleged irregularities and disorders, and in regard of
her present sickness and indisposition, testified under

1Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 200.
2 Ibid, vol. iii., p. 149. But even as to house conventicles, as
Fountainhall informs us, the council afterwards found that, notwith-
standing this proclamation of indulgence, they might be punished
and fined unless licensed by the counciL—that the king’s indul-
gence had not permitted them but only where, upon application to
the council, they are established—Historical Notices of Scottish
Affairs, p. 244-.
3 Sir William Cunningham in his account of Lady Caldwcll’s Suf-
ferings, speaking of her daughter, Miss Jean, indeed says, “Yea
though the matter of fact as alleged had been true, what law even
then could make the poor gentlewoman of twenty years of age liable
to such cruel treatment, she being in her mother’s house, where
though there had been sermon, yet bylaw it ought to have been
proven that there were five more than the family present to hear it,
whereas it never was pretended that there were any more present
than the lady and her family.” Wodrow makes the same statement.
But both are mistaken. It would have been illegal, as is evident
from the acts of parliament quoted in the text, for a nonconforming
minister to have preached in Lady Caldwell’s house, though nonr
but the members of her own family had been present.
1 Sir William Cunningham says, “ a year and some more ;” and
\‘(odrow says, “ for near a year’s time.” But from the date of the
order of the council for her liberation, compared with the date of
the act of council ordering her imprisonment, it is evident that the
period of her imprisonment was somewhat less than six months.


108
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



the hands of physicians, supplicating for liberty, Do
hereby give order and warrant to the Earl of Lin-
lithgow, governor of the said Castle of Blackness,
and his deputies there, to set the said J can Mure,
petitioner, at liberty, in regard of her said present
indisposition and sickness, and that she hath found
sufficient caution, acted in the books of privy council,
that she shall re-enter her person in prison, within
the said Castle of Blackness, upon the first day of
November next, under the penalty of one thousand
merks Scots money in case of failure.” '
She was, however, afterwards relieved from the
necessity of returning to the prison of Blackness at
the time specified in this act. Having presented
another petition to the council, “desiring that the
former liberty allowed her forth of the Castle of
Blackness, where she was prisoner for several alleged
irregularities, might be prorogate for some further
time, to the effect she may go about her own and
her mother’s affairs, and may have access to her,
being prisoner in the said Castle, both day and night,”
the council, at their meeting on the 6th of December,
1683, “ prorogate and continue the petitioner’s fore-
said liberty forth of the said Castle, in regard she
hath found sufiicient caution, acted in the books of
privy council, that she shall compear personally
before the council upon the first Thursday of
February next, or that the said day she shall re-enter
her person in prison, within the said Castle of Black-
ness, and that under the penalty of one thousand
merks Scots money in case of failure, in either of the
premises.” 2
In February she presented a third petition to the
council, “ showing that, being incarcerated with
her mother in the Castle of Blackness, near ten
months ago, for being present‘at a conventicle, as
alleged, in her said mother’s house, and upon appli-
cation being made to the council liberated, but withal
ordained to re-enter this instant month of February,
her imprisonment had been attended with great
indisposition of health; and therefore humbly craving
that the council would be pleased to consider her
circumstances, a very young gentlewoman, having
no means of livelihood but by a dependence on her
mother, and to commiserate her case, and ordain
her to be set at liberty, at least upon caution to
compear when called.” “The bids of his majesty’s
privy council having,” at their meeting of the 14th
of February, 1684, “considered the foresaid petition,
give warrant to the clerks of council to deliver to
the supplicant’s cautioner the bonds given for her,
in regard conform thereto he has exhibited her.” 3


The young lady’s trouble, it would appear, on account
of the alleged conventicle in her mother’s house, was
now brought to a close.
But her mother’s sufferings on the same account
were of much longer duration. Lady Caldwell, at
the time when her daughter was liberated, was
allowed, “ as a mighty favour,” “to ascend by some
steps, to take the air upon the head of the castle
wall, but at that time not to go without the foot of
the turnpike where she lodged, though indeed after-
wards she obtained the liberty within the precincts
of the castle.” ‘ But after this she continued a
prisoner there for about two years and nine months.
The sufferings she endured during that period must
have been great. We have no chronicler who has
left a record of the annoyances and privations which
the covenanting prisoners endured in the Castle of
Blackness, as James Fraser of Brea has left a record
of those endured by the prisoners of the Bass. As in '
the Bass, they would probably suffer from the caprice,
rudeness and profaneness of the garrison. From
several of the petitions presented by the prisoners
which we have seen, it appears that in most cases
the health of the prisoners gave way, and that
diseases of a very serious nature were often con-
tracted. Hard as it was for this lady to be deprived
of all her substance, and to be compelled scantily to
support herself and her children by the labour of
her own hands, her condition was now much more
painful and distressing. Now she was removed
from her children, who had proved a blessing and a
comfort to her, and, shut up in aprison, was doomed
to spend her time under harsh restraint and in soli-
tude, her children, relatives and friends being only
occasionally allowed to visit her. In this desolate
situation the days and the months would pass heavily
away, and she could not but often experience a sink-
ing in her spirit. It was, however, well that by the
discipline of adversity the principles of her faith had
been established, and that she was prepared by her
christian fortitude, and her holy trust in God, to
suffer still greater hardships than those to which she
had been even as yet inured.
Among the hardships which she endured during
this period of her imprisonment, the following case
of heartless cruelty reflects the utmost disgrace upon
the government of that day. Her cousin-german,
Mr. Walter Sandilands} of I-Iilderston, then living
at the West Port of Linlithgow, the heiress of which
property he had married, having fallen sick of a

1 Decreets of Privy Council. 2 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
8 Decreets of Privy Council.
1 Sir William Cunningham’s MS. account of the Sufl’erings of Lady
Caldwell.
2 Mr. Walter Sandilands was the son of William Sandilands, brother
of the fourth Lord Torphichen, by his wife, who was a sister of Lady
Caldwell’s father. Both his parents were “distinguished for their



LADY CALDWELL.
109



violent fever, which issued in his death, she on hearing
of his dangerous illness, sent two of her daughters,
probably on their paying her one of those occasional
visits which for a time cheered up her heart, to give
him her kind compliments and inquire how he was.
Within a few hours after their arrival at his house,
her second daughter, Miss Anne, was attacked by the
fever, of which she afterwards died at Linlithgow.
Being informed of the severe and dangerous sickness
. of her daughter, Lady Caldwell naturally felt a strong
desire to see her ; and being distant from her only two
miles, she hoped that so small a favour would, upon
application, not be refused. But her hopes were
disappointed. Though she earnestly desired to be
permitted to go and see her “dearly beloved dying
daughter,” for only one hour, should no longer time
be granted, and though she willingly offered to take
a guard with her, yea, to take the whole garrison
along with her as a guard, should it be required,
and to maintain them at her own expense, while she
made this visit; yet the most earnest solicitations
were ineffectual. These cruel men, trifling with the
yearnlngs of a mother’s love, refused to grant so
reasonable a request, and thus she was deprived of
the opportunity of seeing her daughter before her
death. To such as know a mother’s heart, it is need
less to say how pungent must have been her anguish
to think that her daughter should sieken, die and be
buried, while she, though at the distance of not more
than two miles, was only permitted to hear of all
this as each mournful event successively happened.1
After being imprisoned for more than three years,
Lady Caldwell was at length released in answer to
a petition which she presented to the privy council-
From the character of the petitions presented to
the privy council, by the imprisoned Covenanters,
we can almost always learn whether a long imprison-
ment had the effect of weakening their resolution,

attachment to the principles of the Presbyterian Church of Scot-
land, and their mansion house at Hilderston was often the hospit-
able resort of the persecuted Covenanters.” Mr. Walter himself
“ retained the same attachment to Protestant and Presbyterian
principles which had characterized the family from the days of their
illustrious ancestor Sir James Sandilands, the friend and patron of
John Knox.”—\\'odrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 1M1.
1 Sir William Cunningham, in his MS. account of Lady Caldwell’s
sufferings, which relates chiefly to those connected with her impri-
sonment in Blackness Castle, concludes thus :—“.-"is the records of
the secret council will vouch a great part of this narration, so Glas-
gow affords yet many living witnesses of the truth of what is hcfcre
advanced, and the neighbourhood of Blackness, there being several
honourable persons yet alive who can bear testimony to it, as well
as yet living fellow-prisoners. As also the truth of what is said is
referred to the declaration of the present Laird of Bedlormie, then
deputy-governor of the Castle of Blackness, upon his word of honour ;
yea, there is a defiance given to the challenger to search, if he can
find, amen;r any of the records of the jurisdictions of Scotland, if the
Lady Caldwell had been impeached, or convict, any other way but
in the manner already said.”

or whether their stedfastness of purpose remained
unshaken. If the former had been the effect, some
concession is made, as an engagement to live regu-
larly, or to obey thellaws; if the latter, an entire
silence is preserved on that subject, so ‘that the
omission is pregnant with meaning—is a certain
evidence that the spirit was unsubdued by persecu-
tion. This last was the form of Lady Caldwell’s
petition. It is simply a prayer to be released from
her confinement on the ground of her ill health and
her impoverished circumstances, and contains not a
single statement implying the least wavering or un-
stedfastness as to her principles. This is no small
commendation. Imprisonment, so far from being a
light punishment, may be rendered the most bitter
and crushing to the spirit that can be inflicted, and
when protracted during months and years, it has not
unfrequently subdued the fortitude of men who, in
the excitement and activity of actual conflict, have
braved death, in resisting arbitrary and unhallowed
impositions upon conscience. Acting like a slow
and lingering torture, it has exhausted the patience
of the spirit, and laid prostrate its moral heroism.
But Lady Caldwell’s moral firmness, after an im-
prisonment of more than three years, remained un-
moved. She had no attachment to prison walls, to
dank and confined air; for she had experienced their
injurious effects in exhausting the strength of her
frame. She had no satisfaction in being kept from the
society of her children, for she had found in this her
greatest earthly comfort since their father’s death.
She had no liking for the numerous privations and
hardships of her captivity. All these were associated
in her mind with painful feelings and recollections,
with sighs, tears and regrets, the natural companions
of a prison’s inmates. But to escape from them she
would not compromise her integrity, or do aught
inconsistent with the principles for which she was
honoured to suffer so much. The petition she pre-
sented to the privy council is as follows :—
“ Unto the Right Honourable the Lords of his 1
Majcsty’s Privy Council—The Petition of
Barbara Cunningham, relict of William Mure,
sometime of Caldwell, prisoner in the Castle
of Blackness,
“HUMBLY SHEWETH,
“That your lordships’ petitioner hath
been detained prisoner above these three years, for
alleged being present at a house conventicle, by reason
whereof she is become very valetudinary, and is also
reduced to great difficulties, being (in respect of her
deceased husband’s forfeiture,) wholly deprived of
any subsistence forth of that estate, either to her or
her children, these nineteen years begone.


110 THE LADIES or
THE COVENAN 'l‘.




“ May it therefore please your lordships to com-
miserate my valetudinary and destitute condition,
and to ordain me to be set at liberty, and your peti-
tioner shall ever pray,” 850.‘
As this petition, though wordedrespectfully,makes
not the least acknowledgment of a fault, nor con-
tains any engagement to live regularly in future, it
was by no means calculated to conciliate the favour
of the lords of his majesty’s privy council. But as
James V11. was then beginning, with the View of
promoting his scheme of introducing popery and
slavery into Britain, to profess great zeal for the
toleration of Protestant Dissenters, the omissions
of the petition of the stern and inflexible Covenan-
tress were overlooked; and the following order was
issued for her liberation #—
“Edinburgh, 21st J unc, 1686.
“ The lords of his majesty’s privy council having
considered the bill presented by Barbara Cunning-
ham, Lady Caldwell, now prisoner in the Castle of
Blackness, desiring liberty upon the considerations
therein mentioned, do hereby recommend to the
Earl of Linlithgow, Lord Justice General, and chief
Governor of the said Castle of Blackness, to grant
order and Warrant to set the said Lady Caldwell
forthwith at liberty, for which this shall be a suifi-
cient warrant to the said earl and all others con-
cerned.” 2
According to this order, Lady Caldwell, without
coming under any engagement whatever, or even
receiving a caution not to offend against the laws
in future, was liberated, and, after a long separa-
tion, restored to the bosom of her family. During
the remainder of the persecution, which was now
drawing to a close, she was permitted to live with
her children in peace; and they lived together in
the same humble condition as before, earning their
subsistence by honest industry.
It is gratifying to know that, after the Revolu-
tion, justice, in so far as possible, was done to this
worthy lady and her family. The forfeiture of her
husband was rescinded by the Scottish Parliament,
not only by the general act of July 4, 1690, rescind-
ing the forfeitures and fines of the Covenanters,

from the 1st of January, 1665, to the 5th of No-
vember, 1688, in which his name occurs, among
some hundreds of other names, but by another act,
19th July, 1690, which expressly rescinded it on the
ground of its having been pronounced by the justi-
ciary court in his absence; which, it is declared,
was illegal, and therefore, from the beginning, null
and void.1 To illustrate farther the good inclina
tion of those in high places, after the Revolution,
to do all justice to those who had suffered during
the persecution, it is worthy of remark that her
then only surviving child, Barbara,2 (who had mar~
ried John Fairlie of that ilk,) having, as heir and
executor to her father, and Lady Caldwell herself,
having for her liferent right and interest, pursued Sir
Thomas Dalziel of Binns, grandchild to the dona~
tor, before the lords of session, for payment of the
rents of the estate of Caldwell intromitted with by
the said donator, or his gratuitous assignees, during
the forfeiture, the lords of session, on the 5th of
December, 1705, found Sir Thomas liable not only
for his predecessors’ bygone actual intromissions,
but for the whole rental of the estate from the time
his grandfather entered into the possession, and
even for omissions. Some of the judges thought the
restitution of bygones very hard. But the answer
was, Dumm est, sad ita lar scrz'pz‘a est? The case
having, however, been carried, by Sir Thomas Dal-
ziel, to the Scottish Parliament, the decision of the
court of session was altered on the 20th of February,
1707, and Sir Thomas relieved from his liability for
the bygone rents of the estate of Caldwell preceding
the term of Martinmas, 1688, on account of certain
specialities in his case, distinguishing it from other
cases falling under the act rescissory.‘
From the references made in these proceedings
to the subject of this notice, it is evident that she
was then alive. But how long she survived we have
not been able to ascertain.


1 Warrants of Privy Council. Sir William Cunningham, in his
account of Lady Caldwell’s sufferings, and Wodrow, in his History,
incorrectly say that she was dismissed without any petition having
been presented to the council for her liberation.
2 Warrants of Privy Council.
1 The act is entitled, “Act rescinding forfeitures in absence before
the justice court, preceding the year 1669, and restoring Caldwell,
and Kersland, and Mr. William Veitcli.”—Acts of the Parliament
of Scotland.
2 Lady Caldwell’s eldest daughter, Jean, who had married Colonel
J ohu Erskine of Garnock, died, without issue, a few years after the
Revolution, perhaps in 1695. On the 8th of January, 1696, by
decreet of the commissary court of Edinburgh, Barbara Mure, her
sister, was deeerned nearest of kin to hen—Register of Confirmed
Testaments, 24th July, 1696.
3 i. a. “It may be hard, but such is the ]aw.”-i\Iorison’s Die-
tionary of Decisions, pp. 4694, 4750.
4 Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, )Iarch 20, 1707.




LADY COLVILL.

LADY CoLvILL, whose maiden name was Margaret
Wemyss, was the daughter of David VVemyss of
F ingask, and wife of Robert, Lord Colvill, who suc-
ceeded his uncle, of the same name, in 1662, as second
Lord Colvill of Ochiltree. In 1671 she became a
widow, his lordship having died at Cleish on the 12th
of February that year. She had issue to him a son,
Robert, who succeeded his father as third Lord
Colvill of Ochiltree ; and two daughters, 1. The
Honourable l\“largaret Colvill, who was married in
1701 to Sir John Ayton of Ayton, in Fife, being his
second wife, and, 2. The Honourable Colvill,
who was married to the Rev. Mr. Logan, minister
of Terry.1
The severity with which Lady Colvill was treated
by the government, may be regarded as an involun-
tary testimony to the fidelity and stedfastness with
which she adhered to the persecuted cause of Pres-
bytery. She was classed among that “desperate
and implacable party who keep seditious and nume-
rous field conventicles, and that in open contempt
of our authority, as if it were to brave us and those
that are in places of trust under us.” 2 Other marks

.of the govermnent’s displeasure were fixed upon her,
all which in fact were so many badges of honourable
' distinction.
She became early conspicuous as a frequentcr of
field conventicles ; and her name appears among the
ladies against whom the government first proceeded
on that account,—an honour for which she was no
doubt indebted to Archbishop Sharp, who, as he
resided in Fife, was particularly zealous in his en-
deavours to arrest and put down the progress of
“fanaticism” within his own borders, and who had
a great abhorrence of fanatic ladies. About the close
of the year 1672, and in the years 1673 and 1674,
meetings in the open fields were frequently held in
Kinross-shire, where Lady Colvill resided; and she
was in the habit of attending these meetings, as well
as of hospitably entertaining in her house the minis-
ters who preached at them, among whom were Mr.
John Welsh, Mr. Samuel Arnot, Mr. Gabriel Semple,
Mr. Thomas Hog, minister at Larbert, and many
others.3 The zeal and liberality with which she


countenanced the preaching of the gospel at field
conventicles, and befriended the persecuted minis-
ters, coming to the ears of the government, the
storm of persecution began to gather around her.
The more immediate cause of this was the following
circumstance: A party of soldiers had been sent to
disperse a field conventicle held in the Lomonds of
Fife; they met with no resistance from the people ;
but Sharp, to excite the council to greater violence,
falsely alleged that the people had made resistance,
This fabricated story being communicated to the
court, a letter came from the king to the council,
dated June 23d, 167 4, requiring the council to bring
the ringleaders of that disorder to punishment, and
promising to send for their assistance some forces
from England and Ireland.1 This letter occasioned
a bitter persecution against all in Fife, both men and
women, who attended conventicles. A long cata-
logue of names, including several ladies as well as
gentlemen, and a number of the common people, was
sent over to the agents of the government in Fife,
who were required to summon them to appear before
the privy council at Edinburgh.2 Lady Colvill’s
name was in this list; and she, with several other
ladies and gentlemen, were summoned to appear
before the lords of the privy council on the 9th of
July. The charges for which they were summoned
to answer, were their keeping and being present at
house and field conventicles, at Dunfern'iline, Cleish,
Orval, and other places ; their inviting and counte-
nancing outed ministers in their invasion and intru-
sion upon the kirks and pulpits of Forgan, Balmer-
inoch, Collcssie, Monzie, and Auchtermuchty, and
hearing them preach and pray therein; and their
harbouring, resetting, and entertaining Mr. John
WVelsh, a declared and proclaimed traitor, in their
houses and elsewhere. Lady Colvill and the others
who were summoned, not being prepared to make any
confessions of criminality, or to promise to abstain
from attending conventicles in future, deemed it
prudent to disobey the summons, probably dreading
imprisonment had they made their appearance. For
this contempt of authority they were, upon the 15th
and 16th of July that same year, denounced his
majesty’s rebels, and put to the born at the market

1 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 361.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 238.
3 Account of the Sufferings of the Covenanters in Kinross-sbire,
Wodrow MSS. vol. xxxiiL, folio, no. 143.
1 \l'odrow’s History. vol. ii., p. 238.
2 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 545


112
TIIE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



crosses of Cupar and F orfar, by virtue of letters of
denunciation raised and executed at the instance of
his majesty’s advocate.l Lady Colvill was after-
wards summoned to appear before a committee of
the privy council, which was to meet at Cupar on
the 15th of September. She did not compear, but
was fined, and ordained to pay her fine before the
1st of November. To what amount she was fined
we are not informed.2
Against this lady the council proceeded still far~
ther. On the 6th of August, 1675, they issued
letters of intercommuning against her and upwards
of 100 more individuals, among whom were several
other ladies of rank. Interconnnuning was a very
severe sentence, making, as it did, every man or
woman who should harbour, entertain, or converse
with the persons intercommuned equally guilty with
them. By these letters, all sheriffs, stewards, bailies
of regalities, and bailiaries, and their deputies, and
magistrates of burghs, are required “ to apprehend
and commit to prison any of the persons above
written, our rebels, whom you shall find within your
respective jurisdictions, according to justice, as you
shall answer to us thereupon.” 3 The letters were
proclaimed in Cupar in the beginning of October,
1675.4 “Perhaps,” says W odrow, “it was every
way without a parallel, that so many ladies and
gentlewomen married, should be put in such circum-
stances; but this was to strike the greater terror on
their husbands and other gentlewomen.”
Kirkton, in narrating this case, says, “ But though
the council sisted in their persecutions upon denun-
ciation and intercommuning, so did not our officers
and soldiers, who rested not, but upon imprisoning,
robbing, wounding, killing the poor fanatics and
conventiclers, where they might find them; and
truly, many of our soldiers made persecution not so
much a duty of their office as an employment of
gain.” 5 The concluding part of this extract is per-
fectly correct; but Kirkton is mistaken when he


says that the council “sisted in their persecutions
upon denunciation and intercommuning.” So far
was this from being the case, that in a very severe
proclamation against conventicles and other dis-
orders, issued by the council 011 the Ist of March,
1676, the magistrates of the several burghs are re-
quired to seize upon any persons who were or should
in future be intercommuned; all noblemen, gentle-
men, magistrates, and all other subjects, are for-
bidden to intereommune with, harbour, or relieve
any of the persons who were or should hereafter be
intercommuned, under the pains due to intercom-
muners by law; and a reward of 500 merks is offered
to such as should discover any person guilty of in-
tercommuning with, harbouring, or relieving any of
the intercommuned.‘ On the 27th of April, that
same year, in prosecution of the same object, the
following letter, signed by the Duke of Rothes in
name of the council, was sent to the sheriffs of the
several shires :—
“Rren'r HONOURABLn,—The lords of his majesty’s
privy council, at their last meeting, did order that
the enclosed letters of intercommuning should be
transmitted to you, that you may with all possible
diligence, cause search for, apprehend and imprison,
such of the said persons as are, or shall happen to
come within the bounds of your shire, and have
ordered that against the 22d day of June next, you
report a particular account of your diligence to the
council. This the council has appointed to be
signified to you, by your humble servant,
RornEs CANcnLL. I. P. D. ‘~’ ”
Lady Colvill, like her friends against whom these
letters of intercommuning were issued, lay under
this sentence till the king’s proclamation, dated
Whitehall, June 29, 1679, by which all letters of
intercommuning were suspended, a measure which
“relieved multitudes who were fugitive and inter-
communed, and upon their hiding for many years.”3
But while lying under this sentence, her zeal was in
no wise abated. She still continued to attend con-
venticles, and to entertain in her house the noncon-
forming ministers who came to preach in the part
of the country where she lived. In the year 167 7,
when no public meetings were held in Kinross-shire
for divine worship except during the night, because
of the fury of the troopers, who lay more than a year

1 Wodrow, in his History (vol. ii., p. 242) mentions a Lady Colvill
who was summoned to appear before the privy council on the 9th of
July, 1674, and who was acquitted, on her compearing before the
council, in consequence of her bringing with her a testimonial in her
favour from the minister of her parish, and promising not to go to
any conventicles in future. But she was evidently a different person
from the subject of this sketch. On consulting the Register of
Acts of Privy Council we find that her maiden name was “Dame
Euphan Mortoun.”
2 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 551.
3 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., pp. 286-288. Mr. John Carstairs, in
a letter to Mr. Robert M‘Ward, then in Rotterdam, dated August 6,
1675, says, “This day the letters of intercommuning were passed.
If we were in any tolerable frame for such a mercy, as alas! we are
not, I would take this furious driving as a token for good, and some
presage that their time would be but short.”—-Wodrow MSS , vol.
lix., folio, no. 36.
4 Row’s Life of Robert Blair, p. 562.
5 Kirkton’s History, pp. 363, 364.
1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 319.
2Register of Acts of Priiy Council. It is, however, true, as
Kirkton observes, that at this time “intercommuning was not so
stretched and improven as after Bothwell Bridge, when converse
with a few rebels made almost all Scotland as guilty as if they had
been in arms against the king at Bothwell Bridge.”-Kirktoi.’s
History, p. 363.
3 Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., pp. 14-0, 151.


. LADY coLv1LL. 1 l3




and a half in Kinross, meetings for sermon were As might be expected of so zealous a Covenanter,
sometimes held in her house ; and her character and Lady Colvill preferred having in her family servants
principles being well known, she had her own share whose sentiments in religious matters corresponded
of the annoyances and severities inflicted by the with her own; nor in this preference Could She be
troopers, who perambulated the country to put down charged with illiberality, when it is considered that,
house and field conventicles. From Captain William in Such trying and dangerous times, there was no
Carstairs ‘ in particular, she suffered no small degree inconsiderable risk that servants of opposite princi.
of molestation and hardship. This man, who had ples might, from their hatred of nonconformity, or
no commission from the king, but who had been from theirlove of filthylucre,have become spies in the
sent out by Archbishop Sharp, under pretence of family, and betrayed their mistress, or have involved
searching for denounced and intercommuned per- her in trouble. So early as 1670, before the death
Sons, was at that time extremely active» against of her husband, some of her servants were prosecuted
the nonconformists in the East of Fife, on whom, foratteudinga field conventicle. Margaret Morton,
with a party of about a dozen of soldiers, he com- her gentlewoman, and Elizabeth Young, her servant
mitted many cruelties. Receiving information of a . maid, having been present at the field meeting held
convcuticle which had been kept in Lady Colvill’s I upon Beath Hill, in the west of Fife, on the 18th of
house, at Cleish, on a Sabbath day in the month of I June, 1670, which created much noise, and greatly
November, at which a preacher, named Mr. Robert ' exasperated the government, were, along with many
Anderson, officiated, and learning that Mr. Anderson others in the shire of Kinross, immediately summoned
was lodged in her house, he came with his party to ‘ to answer before the privy council; and making their
the house of Cleish early on the Monday morning, in \ appearance, they, with the rest who appeared, were
order to make sure of apprehending his intended thrown into prison, where they were kept for a long
prisoners,—so early indeed as about two or three 1 time. ‘ Thirteen or fourteen years later, several of
hours before day,--and rapping at the gate of the her servants,—-among whom was Margaret Morton, a
house, surprised and alarmed all the inmates. Having highly valued domestic, udging from the lengthened
made their way into the house, they apprehended period during which she had served her ladyship,—-
Mr. Anderson, and William Sethrum, the chamber- were again punished for their Presbyterian principles.
lain, and “broke Robert Steedman’s head, who made From a note of a decreet, dated December 26, 1683,
his escape; and when the captain missed him, he and July 15, 1684, recorded in the sheriff court
fell into a fit of the convulsion, and continued two books of Fife, at the instance of Mr. John Malcolm,
or three hours in it.” This proved a very fortunate procurator fiscal, against several persons for with-
circumstance for Lady Colvill and her son, Lord drawing from the church, keeping house and field
Colvill, who was then a child, for during the time conventicles, 366-, We learn that? Margaret Morton,
that Carstairs lay in the fit, they made their escape. gentlewoman to Lady Colvill, William Morton and
On recovering, he carried Mr. Anderson and the William Young, servants to the said lady, all in the
chamberlain to the tolbooth of F alkland? To escape l parish of Cleish, were fined each in the sum of three
the fury of this miscreant, whose severities towards hundred pounds Scots, and were reported to have
others, and whose visits to her own house, gave her fled.2
but too just ground for apprehension, Lady Colvill To give her son a sound religious education, was
was obliged to remain for some time from her house, a special part of Lady Colvill’s care. Besides in-
and, like hundreds more of the Covenanters, who structing him in the common doctrines and precepts
were hunted like moor-fowl or wild beasts, to hide of Christianity, it was her endeavour to train him up
herself in the mountains and fields, by which her in the principles of Presbytery and of the Covenant,
health was greatly impaired. 3 which in her judgment were founded on the word of
"—'—._—' a _ ‘ v " " " , ‘ ‘rm God, and connected with the honour of her Lord
goingardfsztgl'hsisgdasto zt'oiif'ziftlilcllisljoaffdntfina and Saviour’ But the comfort and happiness of
Prsackjlrgfjgatgfeupr’Sfgiswgofhglsip"01;;11237- If employing her widowhood in this laudable and
ifi‘éki» exczited grit? $11.31., tiiiufffiliotftilnf’tgt;diifgf delightful task, She was not Permitted to enioy- In
lent his aid‘by false tpstirnony to the execution of several guiltlcss "iolation of tl 13 laws 0f nature and Society, as well as
persons. His end, says Macaulay, quoting from Bishop Burnet, of the law of God, the privy council resolved ‘.0 take
her son from her, and place him under guardians and




“ was all horror and despair, and with his last breath he had told
his attendants to throw him into a ditch like a dog, for that he was
not fit to sleep in a christian burial ground.”—Ibid., vol. i., p. 482.
2 Kirkton says, “ William Sethrum he laid in prison, but the doors
were opened and he set free.”—~History, p. 380.
3 Account of the sufferings of the Covenanters in Kinross-shire,
Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxiii , folio, no. 143.
1 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxiii, folio, no. 143. Row’s Life of Robert
Blair, pp. 536, 538.
2 Wodrow 3155., vol. xxxiii., folio, no. 1&4’.
P
.._ ____,____


111 1111-1 ments or
&
I
l‘llE COVENAN'l‘.



l
teachers who would instil into him such principles
as would meet the approbation of the government.
From the strength of the opposition which perse-
cutors have often encountered in prosecuting their ‘
scheme for destroying the church, it has often sug-
gested itself to them that one of the most important
means of gaining their object is to prevent the young
from being instructed in the persecuted principles.
Julian the apostate, the more effectually to suppress
and destroy Christianity, shut up the schools and col-
leges of the Christians, authorizing only pagans as the
teachers of youth, in the confidence that the tender
minds of the rising generation would receive at one
and the same time the impressions of literature and
idolatry. A similar policy was adopted by the rulers of
France, who, on the revocation of the edict of Nantz,
commanded the Huguenots, that those henceforward
born of them should be baptized in the Roman
Catholic religion, and be placed under instructers
who were the enemies of their faith, to be educated
in the superstition which they abhorred. The same
cruel and tyrannical system was adopted against the
Presbyterians of Scotland. To poison the springs
and fountains of learning, it was ordained by Parlia-
ment, so early as 1662, that none should be principal,
masters, regents, or other professors in universities
or colleges, unless they owned the government of
the church by archbishops and bishops, as then
established by law, and that none should teach any
public school, or be pedagogues to the children of
persons of quality, without the license of the bishop
of the diocese.I But detestable as was the tyranny
of these enactments, the government went even still
farther. The children of Presbyterians of quality
were taken from their parents, and placed in the
hands of such as would educate them in principles
which they repudiated as contrary to the word of
God, and to the solemn obligations under which the
nation had been brought.

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 267. Presbyterian teachers some-
times attemptcd to form schools for the education of the young, but
they did so at the risk of being imprisoned and otherwise punished,
there being always individuals, who, from various motives, were sure
to inform the government against them. The following quotation
from Fountainhall’s Historical Notices (p. 294) is a specimen of what
frequently happened in cases of this nature :—“2 June, 1681. The
private schoolmaster in Edinburgh being called before the privy
council and complained on by the Master of the High Grammar
School (one school is far from being able to serve Edinburgh now);
there are Mr Strang, Mr. William Grecnlaw, and two or three others
of them imprisoned, till they find caution not to teach Latin till
they be licensed by the bishop: for several of them were outed
ministers, and others who were suspected to poison the young ones
with disloyal principles ; so that the regents of the colleges defended
themselves, that many of their youth were infected and leavened
ere they came to them; and even when they are licensed, not to
teach the grammar, but only the rudiments and vocables; for then
the children may be come to that strength as to go to the High
School.”

On learning the intention of the government to
take her son from her and place him under prelatic
teachers, Lady Colvill determined, as was natural
enough, to keep her son, if possible, from falling into
their hands, and with this view she removed him
out of the way. By this the indignation of the
government being excited, they immediately insti-
tuted proceedings against her. In the first place,
they fined her in her absence in the sum of 5000
merks Scots ; 1 and failing to pay this sum, she was
apprehended and imprisoned in the tolbooth of
Edinburgh. Lord Fountainhall gives the following
account of the cause of her imprisonment: “ Decem-
her 2, 16841. The Lady Colvill is imprisoned in
Edinburgh tolbooth, by the privy council, for her
irregularities, and particularly for breeding up her
son, the Lord Colvill, in fanaticism and other dis-
loyal principles, and abstracting and putting him out
of the way, when the council was going to commit
his education to others ; for which we have acts of
parliament as to the children of papists, which may
be extended a parz'zfmfe to others.” 2 The reader is to
observe, that this writer was an enemy to the Presby-
terians, whom, though he was more moderate than the
most of his kind in his day, he regarded as fanatics;
and that his account of this lady is tinged with his
party prejudices. His exaggerated and coloured
statement, when translated into the simple language
of truth, is that she was imprisoned for withdrawing
from her parish church, attending house and field
conventicles, and particularly for training up her
son, Lord Colvill, in the principles of Presbytery and
of the Covenant.
The cell into which this lady was cast was one of
the worst in the prison. It was a narrow dark
room, where she required to burn candles during
the whole day, and where she was without fire,
though it was in the depth of winter. “It might
be thought,” says a MS. account of the sufferings
of that period, “that persons of quality and honour
were not concerned in these sufferings; but the
contrary is evident, as, besides other instances, in
the case of my Lady Colvill, who, being fined in
absence, at last was made prisoner in the tolbooth
of Edinburgh, in a little room where she could not
get the use of fire and the benefit of the light of
day, and that for some months in the winter sea-
son.”3 And in another MS. of the same period,
entitled “Grievances from Scotland, 1661-1688,”
the following is specified as a grievancez—“My
Lady Colvill was put in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh,

" 1 i. e. 2771. 6s. 6d. sterling.
'~’ Fountainhall’s Decisions of the Lords of Session, vol. 1., p. 316.
3 Wodrow MSS., vol. x1, folio, n0. 6.



LADY COLVILL.
115



in a strait dark tireless room, where, all day long, tution had been greatly shaken; and it did not now
she behoved to keep candles burning; and was
thus kept for a long time, because she would not
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Lady Colvill in Prison.
deliver up her son, my Lord Colvill. Their quarrel
with her was her not countenaneing the profane
clergy.” 1
After lying for some weeks in this narrow, cold,
and gloomy cell, than which a worse was not appropri-
ated to robbers and murderers, Lady Colvill, from the
privations and hardships she endured, was induced
to petition the privy council that she might be
removed to a more convenient room in the prison;
and the council, at their meeting, on the 21th of
December, 168i, “having considered her petition,
gave order and warrant to the magistrates of Edin-
burgh, and keepers of the tolbooth thereof, to accom-
modate her with a more convenient room than that
which she is now in, and to detain her prisoner
therein till further order.”
In consequence of this order she appears to have
been removed to “a more convenient room” in the
prison; but, in those days, the best of the Scottish
prisons were eheerless and unwholesonie dungeons;
and her health soon began to be affected. By the
harsh treatment to which she had formerly been
subjected, in being driven to the mountains, to
shelter herself from a ruthless soldiery, her consti-


possess vigour enough for the endurance of a rigor-
ous and tedious imprisonment. After she had been
shut up for nearly three months, her bodily indis-
position became so great that her life was in danger.
In these circumstances she presented a petition to
the privy council, which was supported by the testi-
* menial of a physician, praying that she might enjoy
.i '6 " ' _ _.
'H‘l.‘ "l' ‘iffy y'v‘r’ . , '_
\‘." All i . t '. ‘f, , - . i
' i I l til I i
H’ , , I . " l
\ I . u . ‘:An- ‘ |
a temporary release for the recovery of her health,
but containing no admission of the justice of her
imprisonment, nor any engagement that, in mat-
ters of religion, she would in future live and act
as the government were pleased to dictate. In
answer to this petition, the council, at their meet-
ing 011 the 17th of March, “gave order and warrant
to the magistrates of Edinburgh to set her at liberty,
upon her finding sufficient caution, under the penalty
of the fine for which she is incarcerated, and to con-
fine herself to a chamber in Edinburgh, and to re-
enter the said prison upon the second of April
next.” 1
At the time when Lady Colvill was apprehended
and imprisoned in the tolbooth of Edinburgh, her
son, Lord Colvill, was attending the college of Edin-
burgh. On learning what had befallen his mother,
and hearing farther that orders had been given to
apprehend and imprison him also, the youth, in great
consternation, fled from the city; nor does it appear
that he returned again to the college that session.
T 0 his mother this was a source of great uneasiness;
and she was extremely anxious that he should be
brought back to the college to prosecute his studies.
This appears from a petition which she presented to
the council, when the day appointed for her re-
entering prison arrived, at which time she was still
very unwell. After stating that the council had
been pleased to grant her temporary liberty, in order
to use means for the recovery of her health, but that
her physicians had declared that it was impossible
for them to enter on a course of medicinal treatment,
with a view to her recovery in so short a time, she
goes on to say, that what troubled her more (though
she was brought very low by sickness,) was, that by
her surprising imprisonment, her son did run away,
hearing that a party was ordered to apprehend him
likewise; and that now should she again enter prison,
neither she herself, nor her friends, would be able
to prevail upon him to return to the college to his
studies, because he apprehended that so long as the
council inclined to keep her prisoner, they would
likewise keep him a prisoner. She engages that
should the council allow her any competent time,

1 Wodrow BISS , vol. Xl., folio. no. 3.
2 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.




116
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




she would, upon the word and honour of a gentle-
woman, take pains and concur with his friends to
the utmost of her ability, to bring him back to the
college; and after he is once settled there, she
expresses her willingness to be disposed of as the
council should think fit, and in the meantime ofi’ers
to give sullicient security that she would present
herself before the council when called. On these
grounds, she humbly supplicates that the council
would be pleased to allow her some competent time
for the purpose specified, the state of her health
being such, that she would require to be carried to
prison on a bed, and she being fully resolved to
employ the time which the council should allow her,
in bringing back and settling her son. Having con-
sidered this petition at their meeting on the 3d of
April, the council “ continue the petitioner’s liberty
forth of the prison until this day seven night, upon
the terms and caution as formerly.” 1
On the 14th of March, 1685, the council “ gave
order for setting at liberty any women prisoners for
receipt or harbouring of rebels, or on account of
their wicked principles, upon their swearing the
abjuration of the late traitorous paperf’ and likewise
giving their oaths that they shall not hereafter reset,
harbour or keep intelligence with rebels and fugi-
tives.” 3 But this act was intended to apply exclu-
sively to such imprisoned women as belonged to the
Society People or Cameronians ; and as Lady Colvill
did not belong to that party, this act brought her
no relief. There is however another consideration,
-the eupidity of the government,-—whioh accounts
for the greater leniency shown towards these Came-
ronian women, than towards this lady. Wherever
these rapacious rulers found wealthy Presbyterians,
their watchword, like that of one of Shakspeare’s
characters, was “Down with them, fleece them,”
and getting them once within their grasp, they did
not quit their hold till they had stript them of all,
or of much that they possessed. These Cameronian
women being without exception poor, no money
could be extracted from them; but Lady Colvill
being a richer prey, the government had an eye upon
her fine, and to squeeze from her the 5,000 merks,
continued relentlessly to harass her. At their meet-
ing on the 16th of April, the lords of his majesty’s
privy council “grant warrant to his majesty’s advo-


cate, to raise a process before the council, against
the Lord Colvill and his mother for disorders ;” and
at the same meeting, they “grant warrant to the
clerks of council to receive caution from the Lady
Colvill for her re-entering prison within the tolbooth
of Edinburgh when called, under the penalty of five
thousand merks.” 1 She appears to have given bond
for her appearance before the council on the 21st of
April ; and the council, at their meeting on that day,
continue her liberty upon her again finding security,
under the penalty contained in her former bond,
to compear before his majesty’s high commissioner,
upon the last Thursday of that month. Whether
she appeared before the high commissioner on the
day appointed, it is not said; but if she did, she
does not appear to have given him the satisfaction
which he required; for the council, at their meeting
on the 30th of April, “ give order to Patrick Graham,
captain of the town of Edinburgh’s company, to
apprehend her, and to see her re-entered prisoner
within the tolbooth of Edinburgh.” 2 This is the
last notice of Lady Colvill which we meet with in
the records of the privy council. Whether the
order was executed, or if it was, how long she
continued in prison, we have not been able to ascer-
tain.
In reviewing these notices of Lady Colvill’s his-
tory, it is pleasing and interesting to find that severe
as was the treatment which she experienced, it had
no efiect in inducing her to make any unworthy
compliance in order to be set at liberty, or in order
to obtain a relaxation of the severity of her imprison-
ment. She repeatedly petitioned the privy council,
on one occasion for a better room, on another for a
temporary release on account of her bodily indisposi-
tion, on another for a farther prorogation of the term
of her liberty; but these favours she never asked on
dishonourable terms. Rather than do this, she was
prepared to suffer the slow and lingering torture of
a prison,-—a proof how well established the principles
of her faith were, and that she possessed no small
degree of Christian resolution. This is the more
worthy of commendation, when the weak and sickly
state of body to which she was reduced is considered.
But whatever were her sufferings at the hands of men,
the reflection that these were endured in the cause
of Christ,—-that it was for her stedfast adherence to
Him, that she was denounced a rebel, intercom-
muned, maligned as a fanatic, fined, and thrown into
a dark and an unwholesome prison, would yield to
her true satisfaction. She was honoured to suffer
for Christ, and under whatever pretexts she was per-
4
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
2 This was an oath abjurmg a paper emitted by the Society People
entitled, “The Apologetic Declaration and Admonitory Vindication
of the True Presbyterians of the Church of Scotland, especially anent
Intelligencers and Informers.” For a more particular account of
this paper and of the oath abjuring it, see Notices of Margaret
M‘Lauchlan and Margaret Wilson.
8 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council. 2 Ibid.


LADY CAVERS.
117


secuted, she was doubtless, in the sight of Him who say all manner of evil against you falsely for my
judgeth righteous judgment, found entitled to that sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is
benediction of the Saviour, “Blessed are ye, when
men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall
your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the
prophets which were before you.”

CATHARINE RIGG, LADY CAVERS.
CATHARINE RIGG was the eldest daughter of Thomas
Rigg of Athernie, by his wife, Margaret Monypenny,
daughter of ——— Monypenny of Pitmillie, Esq. ‘
Her ancestors, on the father’s side, were distin-
guished for their ardent zeal and active labours in
promoting both the first Reformation from popery,
and the second Reformation from prelacy. Her
paternal great grandmother, Catharine Row, who
was the eldest daughter of the celebrated Dr. John
Row, minister of Perth, and the able coadjutor of
our illustrious Reformer, John Knox, is described
by Mr. William Row, minister of Ceres, in speaking
of the year 1587, when she could not have been
more than between twenty and thirty years of age,
as “ one of the most religious and wise matrons then
in Edinburgh.” Her paternal great grandfather,
William Rigg, the husband of the lady now men-
tioned, was a wealthy merchant burgess in Edin-
burgh, and a warm supporter of the Reformation,
as well as a man of much moral and religious worth?
Her paternal grandfather, William Rigg, the son of
the preceding, and who, like his father, was a mer-
chant in Edinburgh, was a man of eminent piety,
uncommon benevolence, and great public spirit. He
is said to have spent yearly not less than eight or
nine thousand merks, (about 3501. sterling,) for
pious purposes.3 For his opposition to the intro-
duction of the Perth articles by James VI., he was
fined fifty thousand pounds Scots, and ordered to
be imprisoned in the Castle of Blackness till the
line was paid. He also took an active part in the
proceedings of the Covenanters against the court,
in the reign of Charles 1. He was, at one time,
one of the bailies of Edinburgh, in which capacity,
Mr. John Livingstone says, “he gave great evi-
dence that he had the spirit of a magistrate beyond


many, being a terror to all evil doers.” Having
purchased the estate of Athernie in Fife, he is often
called in the annals of that period, William Rigg of
Athernie. He died on the 2d of January, 1644.1
The father of the subject of this notice, Thomas
Rigg, was the eldest son, or the eldest surviving
son of the preceding, as appears from his having
been served heir to him in his extensive heritable
property.2 Of her father’s life we know much less
than of her grandfather’s; nor have we discovered
the exact date of his death; but it must have been
previous to the year 1659, as her mother appears in
that year as the wife of the celebrated Sir John Scot
of Scotstarvet, who had been twice married before,
and who died in 1670, in the 84th year of his age. 3
Of the early life of this lady no particulars have
been preserved. In March, 1659, she was married
to Sir William Douglas of Cavers, younger. The

1Lamont’s Diary, p. 115, compared with Douglas’s Baronage of
Scotland, p.
2 Row’s History of the Kirk of Scotland, pp. 457, 469, 472.
3 He inherited considerable property from his father, to whom he
was retoured heir, August 16, 1619, in various lands in Fife, Ross
and Cromarty, and. in a tenement of land in the burgh of Elgin.
—Inquis. Retor. Abbrev. Fife, no. 293 ; Ross and Cromarty, no. 52 ;
lilgin and Fortes, no. 34. He was also very successful in business-
1 See a Notice of this excellent man prefixed to one of Ruther-
ford’s Letters to him; Whyte and Kcnnedy’s Edition, p. 216.
2 Thomas Rigg was retoured heir to his father, April 18, 1644, in
various tenements in Edinburgh; in the lands of Manualrig, Bow-
houses, and Cromarland or Manual-Foulis in Stirlingshire; in land.c
in Ross, Cromarty, and Fife; and in a tenement within the burgh of
Elgin.—Inquis. Retor. Abbrev. Edinburgh, no. 9205 Stirling, no.
180 ; Ross and Cromarty, no. 93.
3 Lamont’s Diary, p 115. Crawford, in his Genealogical Collec-
tions, gives the following particulars respecting the family of Rigg
of Athernie :—-“ William Rigg, bailic, of Athcrnie, a very good reli-
gious man, and an excessive rich merchant, purchased the estate of
Athernie in Fife, and other lands. He had a son by his wife, a
Beatson of the house of Bali (Herald’s Office), and J anct, a daughter,
who was married to Sir Walter Riddell of that ilk, and had issue, Sir
John and Mr. Archibald; another daughter married to Mr. John
Skene of Halyards, had issue, 820. Second. [Thomas] Rigg of
Athcrnie, married [Margaret] Monypenny, daughter of
Monypenny of l’itmillie, by Myrton, his wife, daughter of
Myrton of Carnbo (Ibid.), had a son [William] and two
daughters, Dame Catharine Rigg, who was married to Sir William
Douglas of Cavers ; and [Margaret] Rigg, her sister, who was mar-
fled to George Scot of Pitlochie, son to Sir John Scot of Scotstarvet;
[both] had issue. His lady, Pitmillie’s daughter, was the third wife
of Sir John Scot of Scotstarvet, and had a son [Walter] Scot, to
whom he gave Edcnshead, whose daughter and heir was married to
Mr. Charles Erskine, brother to the Earl of BuchanP—MS. 1"olio in
Advocates’ Library. William Rig;r of Athernie, the brother of Lady
Cavers, had by his wife a son, William, and a daughter, Euphan,
who, with their mother, both died at sea in going out to East New
Jersey in America, with Mr. George Scot of Pitlochie, in 1685. In
that disastrous voyage about seventy died by a malignant fever
which broke out in the vessel, and the names of Lady Athernie, her
daughter Iuphan, and her son William, appear in a list of those who




118 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT-






circumstances in which their courtship and marriage
originated are thus recorded by Crawford, in his
Genealogical Collections :—“I have heard that Sir
William Douglas of Cavers applied to Sir John
Scot of Scotstarvet, to have borrowed from him the
sum of 50,000 merks, that he wanted to pay off
some of his pressing debts. Sir John told him he
could not do it himself at present ; but there was a
young gentlewoman at his house who had just as
much portion, in ready money, as he wanted to
borrow, and he did not know but both the lady and
her portion might be at his service. From this
hint Sir William made his application and addresses
to Miss Catharine Rigg, and obtained the lady in
marriage soon after that.”1 Crawford adds, “A
mighty religious good woman she was as any could
be in her time.”
Both Lady Cavers and Sir William, who was a man
of principle, adhered to the cause of the ministers
ejected in 1662 ; 2 by which they excited the resent-
ment of the government. For refusing to take the
declaration which abjured the National Covenant, Sir
William was removed from his office of sheriff of
Teviotdale, in which he stood infefted. 3 He and his
wife also suffered when, on their children having so far
advanced in years as to require a tutor, they selected
one from among the students or preachers of the
nonconformists. To intrust the education of youth
in schools, in colleges, and in families of rank exclu-
sively to such as conformed to prelacy, formed from


the beginning, as we have seen before,I a leading part
of the scheme of the government for establishing
prelacy. And to enforce the laws enacted, in refer-
ence to this matter, a proclamation was issued by the
privy council, on the 1st of March, 1676, forbidding
all persons in future to entertain any schoolmaster,
pedagogue, or chaplain for performance of family
worship, who had not license to that effect under
the hands of the respective bishops of their diocese,
under the penalty of three thousand merks to be
exacted for each nobleman, and twelve hundred
merks for each gentleman, and six hundred merks foi
a burgess or any other subject for each such offence,
as they should be found guilty in the premises. But
the family of Cavers, having in disregard of this
proclamation, kept with them Mr. James Osburn, a
Presbyterian student or preacher, as tutor to their
children, letters were raised at the instance of Sir
John Nisbet, his majesty’s advocate, charging Sir
lVilliam with having “ever since the date of the
said proclamation, and contrary to the duty and
loyalty incumbent upon, and required of good sub
jects, entertained, reset, and countenanced Mr.
James Osburn, as a schoolmaster, or pedagogue, or
as his chaplain at the least for performance of family
worship, albeit he be a person not licensed nor
authorized under the hand of the bishop of the
diocese to that effect; whereby the said
Sir William Douglas of Cavers hath directly con-
travened the tenor of the said act of parliament, and
the said proclamation, and thereby not only incurred
the pains and penalties therein contained, but ought
to exhibit and produce to his majesty’s privy council
the person of the said Mr. James [Osburn].” By
these letters, he was charged to compear personally
before the privy council on the 3d of August, 1676,
to answer to the foresaid complaint, and to hear and
see such order taken thereanent, as appertained,
under pain of rebellion, &c. Sir William not having
appeared at the bar of the council, in obedience to
the summons, the council “ordained letters to be
directed to messengers-at-arms, to denounce him his
majesty’s rebel, and put him to the horn, and to
escheat, &c., superseding extract hereof, as to the
said Sir William Douglas, until the first council day
in September next.” 2
After this Sir William had not long to live. The
precise date of his death we have not ascertained,
but it took place previous to the year 1680.

thus perished—Vl’odrow MSS., vol. xxxvr, alto, nos. 65, 66 3 and
vol. xxxiii, folio, no. 117. In the Commissary Records of Edinburgh,
24 th November, 1693, there is registered, “ The testament dative and
invcntar of the debts pertaining to umquhill William and Euphan
Rigg, lawful children to the deceased William Rigg of Athernie,
sometime residenters in Edinburgh, who deceased at sea in a voyage
to East Jersey in the month of ———, 168 [5] years, faithfully
made and given up by William and Sarah Rigg, lawful children to
the deceased Mr. Walter Rigg at Athelstaneford, and Patrick Hep-
burn, writer in Edinburgh, husband to the said Sarah, for his interest,
Walter, Alexander, and Catharine Riggs, lawful children to the
deceased James Rigg, merchant burgess of Edinburgh, only execu-
tors datives, decerned as nearest of kin to the said defuncts, by
dccreet of the Commissars of Edinburgh, as the same of the date the
3d day of May, 1693, in itself at more length bears ” Lady Cavers’
sister, the wife of Mr. George Scot of Pitloehic also died by the fever
on the same voyage.
1 MS. folio in Advocates’ Library.
2 The minister of Cavers, Mr. James Gillon, was among the num-
ber of the ejected ministers. He died in 1668. The circumstances
connected with his death are thus recorded by Kirkton :—“ Another
act of cruelty they [the government] committed at this time [at the
time when James Mitchell attempted the assassination of Archbishop
Sharp,] was : Upon pretence of searching for the Bishop’s assassinat,
they seized Mr. James Gillon, late minister at Cavers, and made him
run on foot from Currie (whither he had retired for his health) to
the West Port of Edinburgh at midnight, and then [he] was carried
to prison; and when the council found the mistake, they did indeed
suffer him to go to his chamber; but his cruel usage had disordered
him so that within two days he died.”-—History of the Church of
Scotland, p. 281. _
3 Register of Acts of Privy Council, 25th July, 1681.
1 See Notice of Lady Colvill, p. 114.
2 Register of Acts of Privy Council. Mr. James Osburn is in-
cluded in the letters raised against Sir William Douglas, the charge
against him being that he had most unwarrantably presumed and
taken upon hand to serve Sir William as a schoolmaster, pedagogue,




LADY CAVE RS.
119



It is in the beginning of that year, that Lady
Cavers appears upon the stage, as personally ob-
noxious to the government, on account of her non-
conformity. Being now left a widow with numerous
children, she felt that to educate them in the princi-
ples of religion and of the Reformed Church of
Scotland, was one of the most important duties of
her life, or rather the most important duty which
devolved upon her as a widowed mother. This
appears from the proceedings instituted against her,
which we are now about to narrate; and from which
it will be seen how anxious the government and its
supporters were to prevent the education of children,
and especially those of rank, in Presbyterian princi-
ples. It appears that Thomas Douglas, brother to
her deceased husband, Sir lVilliam Eliot of Stobcs,
Mr. Archibald Douglas, minister at “Scatoune,”
[P Salton], and Mr. Richard Douglas, advocate, had
been “nominated and appointed tutors ” to William,
her eldest son, who succeeded his father, and to
Archibald and John, his brothers, “conform to a
gift of tutorie granted to that effect; to which
oflice they were preferred by his majesty’s ex-
chequer, upon express and full consideration that
the complainers would be careful, not only of the
said minors’ persons as being their nearest relations,
but of their education as peaceable, loyal and good
subjects, and which was thought to be of consider-
able consequence to his majesty’s service, that family
having a great interest in the shire of Roxburgh,
where they live, and considering that dame Catharine
ltigg, Lady Cavers, their mother, would take pains
to withdraw them from these good principles.”
Lady Cavers’ eldest son lVilliam, was accordingly
taken from her, and educated for several years at
schools in Dalkeith and Edinburgh. But William
having, for the benefit of his health, been permitted
to stay at his own house with his mother for some
time, she refused to allow him to return to the
schcols where he had been formerly bred. At the
same time, she refused to deliver up to the tutors
her other two sons, Archibald and John, who were
still within the years of “ pupillarity,” not of course
because she was hostile to their receiving a complete
education and every accomplishment suitable to their
station, but because she wished their education to be
conducted under her own eye; and so long as they
were with her, she did not fail to instil into their minds
the principles of Presbytery and of the Covenant.


This gave great offence to the tutors, and letters
were raised against her at their instance, to compel
her to deliver up to them her children. They com-
plain that “she wilfully keeps them that she may
give them these disloyal impressions which may
prove very dangerous to that family, breeding them
up in a perfect aversion to the government of church
and state, and who are already arrived at that Wild-
ness, that they will neither frequent the public
ordinances themselves, nor converse with those who
so do: And therefore,” they add, “ in all equity and
justice the said Lady Cavers should not only be
decerned to deliver up to the complainers the persons
of the said William, Archibald and John Douglas,
the complainers’ pupils, that they may take care for
their education, and be discharged to withdraw or
detain them from schools and their other education,
but also punished, to the terror of others to do the
like in time coming.” She was charged to compear
personally before the privy council on the 27th of
January, 1680, to answer to the premises, and to
bring with her, exhibit and produce the persons of
her three sons above named, and to hear and see
herself decerned to deliver them up to their tutors,
or else to show a reasonable cause to the contrary;
and farther, to hear and see such other order taken
in the foresaid matter, as shall appertain under the
pain of rebellion. In obedience to the summons, she
compeared personally before the council to defend
herself. After having heard and considered the
libel and the answers made thereto, the lords of
council decerned and ordained her to deliver to the
pursuers the persons of the said lVilliam, Archibald
and John Douglas, their pupils, and to do so within
the course of eight days, to be educated as they
should order, and, if need be, ordained letters of
horning, upon a charge of six days, to be directed for
that effect.‘
Nearly two years and a half after this, Lady
Clavers was brought to still greater trouble, on
account of her Presbyterian principles. From what
has been already stated, it is evident that she had
embraced the cause for which the ejected ministers
suffered with too warm a zeal to attend the curates.
But this was not the only thing which rendered her
obnoxious to the persecuting rulers of the day. She
had, besides, attended conventicles held in the part
of the country where she resided, and had even per-
mitted them to be held in her own house. She was,
moreover, in the habit of hospitably entertaining
the proscribed ministers who happened to be in that
part of the country, and she had retained, as her

or chaplain, for family worship, although he was not licensed or
authorized to that effect according to law; and failing to appear
before the council on the 3d oI'August, he was declared his Hajestys
rebel, but nothing is said respecting “supcrseding extract hereof”
as to him
1 Decreets of Privy Council.



1:20
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



servants, some whom the government had denounced
rebels. The strong sympathy and support thus
given, by one in her station, to the cause of suffering
nonconformity, did not escape the notice of the evil
instruments of the government in the district in
which she lived. Among those who, in that district,
signalized themselves as persecutors, was Adam
Urquhart, the laird of Meldrum, who was made
a justice of the peace in Roxburghshire, in May,
1679, to assist Henry Ker of Graden, sheritf-depute
of that county, in repressing and punishing such dis-
orders as withdrawing from the parish churches and
attending conventicles; nor did these men want
spies and informers to assist them in this work of
oppression. In the list of those whom they op-
pressed on account of religion, Lady Cavers occu-
pies a prominent place. Her conduct they observed
with eager scrutiny; her recusant delinquencies they
carefully noted down, and transmitted an exagge-
rated report of them to the lords of the privy coun-
cil, who were glad to find an occasion against her,
in the hope of being able to extort from her a heavy
line. While living peaceably at her own house,
attending to her household and maternal duties, she
was, in 1682, disturbed by the harsh intrusion of
the rugged messengers of the law, with letters
raised against her, at the instance of Sir George
M‘Kenzie, his majesty’s advocate. In these letters
she is charged with “ keeping and being present at
conventicles, harbouring, resetting, entertaining,
intercommuning, and corresponding with declared
rebels and traitors, and disorderly and irregular
persons.”
After stating that, by the laws and acts of parlia-
ment of this realm, these were “crimes of a high
nature, and severely punishable,” the letters, which
contain a mixture of truth and falsehood, proceed
as follows ;——“Nevertheless it is of verity that,
upon the first, second, third, and remanent days of
the months of August, September, October, Novem-
ber, and December, 1679, upon the first, second,
third, and remanent days of the months of January,
February, March, and remanent months of the years
1680 and 1681, and upon the first, second, third,
and remanent days of the months of January, Feb-
ruary, March, April, and May last, or one or other
of the days of the months of the said years, Dame
Catharine Rigg, Lady Cavers, having been present
at divers conventicles in the shires of Roxburgh and
Selkirk, and several other places, where she hath
heard Mr. Matthew Selkirk, a vagrant preacher, Mr.
Donald Cargill and Mr. Gabriel Semple, declared
traitors, Mr. Thomas Douglas, Mr. Samuel Arnot,
Mr. Archibald Riddell, and Mr. James Osburn,

preach, expound scripture, pray, and exercise the
other functions of the ministry,1 and, in the said
seditious meetings, vent several malicious and wicked
expressions against his majesty’ s government; and
particularly, in the month of November, 1680, the
Laird of Meldrum having gone to the said shire, in
pursuance of his majesty’s commands, for putting the
laws in execution against disorderly persons, true it
is that the said Lady Cavers, to evidence her zeal and
forwardness against the putting of his majesty’s laws
in execution, and so encourage disorderly persons
in their irregular practices, did, upon the first, se-
cond, third, or one or other of the days of the said
month of November, 1680, cause advertise and con-
vocate diverse numbers of people, at her house of
——-——~, keeping a seditious conventicle; and accord-
ingly there did convene above the number of three
hundred persons, whereof some were within and
some were without doors, (which, by the law, is
declared to be a field conventicle,) at which sedi-
tious meeting the said Mr. Matthew Selkirk, or one
or other of the foresaid persons, traitors, vagrants,
disorderly ministers, did intimate a fast to be kept,
at the said house, upon the day of the said
month of November, for Philiphaugh’s good success
against the Laird of Meldrum ; 2 which was accord-
ingly performed, where the said Mr. Matthew Sel-
kirk preached, and at which there were present
above two hundred persons, and many of them with-
out doors : Likeas the said Lady Cavers, during the
foresaid space, hath constantly entertained and har-
boured, reset and intercommuned with the foresaid
traitors, rebels, and vagrant preachers, as also The-
mas Turnbull of Stonehill, John Clunie, barber in

1Field conventicles were frequently held in those days in the
parish of Cavers. The hollow dells and rocky recesses of the hill
Rubberslaw, which is situated in the lower division of the parish,
were the haunts of the persecuted Covenanters, and not only the
place, but the very stone, on which the volume of God’s word was
laid when the celebrated Alexander Peden declared its truths to a
large congregation there assembled, 13 still pointed out—New
Statistical Account of Scotland, parish of Cavers.
2 The Laird of Meldrum, one of the most active persecutors, had
imposed heavy fines on many gentlemen and tenants in the shire of
Teviotdale, and committed to prison such as did not pay their fines.
It was calculated that he had uplifted in fines from that shire not
less than 10,000 pounds. This, as might have been expected, created
great dissatisfaction. James Murray of Philiphaugh, principal
sheriff of Selkirk, William Murray, his depute, and some gentlemen
and tenants brought a libel against him before the privy council, in
November, 1680, complaining of his many opprcssions and wrongous
imprisonments. “Philiphaugh,” says W odrow, “proved his libel
against Meldrum, to the conviction of all, and answered what Mel-
drum charged him with: and when Meldrum offered to give in some
new queries, he was willing to admit them, providing he should be
allowed to begin with new queries to him, and proposed he might be
interrogate whether Meldrum was Papist or Protestant, when he was
last at mass, who were present with him when he had conversed
last with rebels, and what compositions he had made with them ”—
Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 240; Decreets of Privy Council, 21st
July, 1681. This is the case referred to in the text.



LADY
CAVERS. 121



Hawick, and diverse other seditious and disorderly
persons, and hath furnished them with meat, house,
and harbour, by herself and tenants; as also, Robert
Davidson, a declared rebel and fugitive, as her
gardener: Whereby the said Dame Catharine Rigg
is guilty of the manifest crimes above-written, and
hath contravened the laws and acts of parliament
made there-against, for which she ought to be
severely punished in her person and goods, to the
terror of others to commit and do the like in time
coming.” 1
To answer to the foresaid complaint, and to hear
and see such order taken thereanent as appertained,
she is charged to compear personally before the
council on the 11th of July 1682, under the pain of
rebellion.
Her case came before the council, at their meet-
ing on the 41th of July. But she disobeyed the
summons; and, on her being ofttimes called and
not compearing, the council granted “certification
against. her, ordaining her to be denounced his
majesty’s rebel.” Afterwards, however, upon appli-
cation to the council, she was “reponed against the
said certification, upon her finding caution to com-
pear before the council on the 13th day of Novem-
ber instant.” On that day, the council having met,
and her case being again called, she compeared, with
a procurator to plead in her defence. Her libel was
read, and answers were made to it by her procura-
tor, in the presence of the council. But, not satis-
tied with these answers, the lords of council ordered
her to be brought before them. On her making her
appearance, his majesty’s advocate “referred the
truth of the libel to her oath, and declared that,
conformably to his majcsty’s letter, and the con-
stant practice of the council, he restricted those
points of the libel in their own nature criminal, to
an arbitrary punishment, and declared that any
confession to be made by her should not be any
ground of a criminal process against her.” But
she refused to give her oath. The ground upon
which she was required to depone upon oath was
the second act of the parliament of 1670 ; 2 and the
king’s letter in 1674, just now referred to, restricted
the punishment, in the case of such as confessed their
nonconforming delinquencies, to an arbitrary fine. It
was the opinion of Sir George Lockhart, an eminent
lawyer of that day, delivered in a case exactly similar,
that the above act of parliament, though it might com-
pel her to depone against others, could not compel her
to depone against herself; and “that she behoved first
to have a remission passed the seals, and the king’s

letter was not equivalent thereto.” 1 But the privy
council took a different view of the matter. Upon
her refusal to give her oath, “the lords of council,
considering that the crimes libellcd were of a very
high nature, and that, in construction of law, she,
by reason of her refusing to depone, was understood
to be guilty of the whole crimes libellcd, did there-
fore fine her in the sum of 9000 merks Scots
money, and ordained her to be carried to prison
until she should have made payment, or found cau-
tion to pay the same, to his majcsty’s cash-keeper,
and found caution for her future good behaviour.
But if her former cautioaer obliged himself, under
the penalty of one thousand pounds sterling, to
produce her upon Thursday next, the 16th of
November, before the council, the lords allowed her
to stay out of prison till that day.” ‘2 Having found
this security, she was in the meantime set at liberty.
On the 16th of November, her surety, “ conform to
his bond, produced her at the council bar ;” but she
having neither “made payment of the fine imposed
upon her last council day, nor given bond for her
future good behaviour, the lords of council ordained
her to be committed prisoner to the tolbooth of
Edinburgh until Monday next, and recommended
to General Dalziel, the said day, to cause transport
her from the said tolbooth of Edinburgh to the Castle
of Stirling, by a party, and appointed the governor
of the said Castle of Stirling, or his deputy, to receive,
keep, and detain, her person in sure firmance until
further order from the council.” 3
This order was duly executed; and she continued
in prison till the close of the year 16811, with the
exception of a few weeks’ liberty granted her for the
benefit of her health. “Her case was indeed very
hard,” says Wodrow, “to say nothing of her shining
virtue and singular piety, and her being chargeable
with nothing but simple nonconforn'iity with prelacy,
and no ways concerned in any thing against the
government, nor could once be supposed to be.” 4
How she and her children were maintained during
the period of her imprisonment, we are not informed.


1 Decreets of Privy Council.
2 See this act in Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., p. 167.
1The case in which Sir George Lockhart delivered this opinion
was that of Edmiston of Duntraith, who, on the 30th of June 1681,
was fined in 9000 merks, and sentenced to lie in prison till it was
paid, for refusing to depone with respect to his conversing and inter~
communing with a denounced fugitive minister, with respect to his
having been at field conventicles, and with respect to his calling the
; proceedings of the privy council arbitrary and tyrannical; on all
' which points he was urged to depone, both from the second act of
I the parliament of 1670, and from the l-zing’s letter in 1674. Sir
l George Lockhart employed in defence of his client the argument
stated in the text. But it was repelled, and Edmiston was holden
as confessed for not deponing, and fined—Fountainhall’s Historical
l Notices, vol. i., p. 301.
2 Decreets 0f Privy Council.
4 Wodrow’s History, vol. 1\'., p. 54.
Q
"’ lbid.







122 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



She had a jointure of l 50!. sterling, from the rental of
the estate of her deceased husband, for the support
of herself and her five younger children, but of this
she was deprived, the rents of her tenants being
arrested for the payment of her exorbitant fine,
which was more than her income from her jeinture
amounted to for three years; and her close im-
prisonment put it wholly out of her power to pro-
cure subsistence for herself and her children by her
own exertions. The circumstances connected with
the arrestment of her tenants’ rents are worthy of
particular notice, affording, as they do, an example
of the severe treatment which tenants who favoured
suffering heritors generally met with at the hands
of the ordinary magistrates, and in which the ma-
gistrates were encouraged and supported by the
government.
The instrument of arrestment was served upon
her tenants on the 10th of February 1683, at the
instance of Hugh Wallace, his majesty’s cash-keeper,
arresting all rents then due by them to her, till the
payment of her fine. This was severe enough, but
it was only a part of the hardships to which, 011
account of her fine, they were subjected, As they
had no tacks, but were moveable tenants, taking
their lands every successive year in April, they sup-
posed, as was very reasonable, that that arrestment
could only make them liable for what they owed
Lady Cavers at the time of its being served upon
them, and not for the rent of the new year com-
mencing in April 1683, when they took their lands
anew. Accordingly, when the first term for the pay
ment of the first half of that new year’s rent, which
was Martinmas, arrived, Lady Cavers having called
upon the tenants for the payment, they paid her
about eleven hundred pounds, which amounted to
about the half of that year’s rent; and for this she
granted them discharges. But to their surprise,
they were summoned, in the beginning of January
[684, to appear before the sheriff of Roxburghshire
on the 8th of that month, for the payment not only
of what was due by them at the time of the arrest-
ment, but also for the whole of the rent of the year
commencing in April 1683, the procurator for the
pursuers urging, that the arrestment served upon
the tenants put them in malafide to pay any rent to
her till her fine was fully paid. The tenants pleaded
in their own defence, that the arrestment of February
10th, according to the nature of all arrestments,
could only secure what was then due by them to
Lady Cavers; that not having taken their lands till
April thereafter, they could not be supposed, at the
time of the arrestment, to be debtors to her for the
new year commencing in April; and that as no new
arrestment had ever been served upon them to put
them in condition to refuse the payment of their
half-year’s rent to her at Martinmas, they ought not
to be required to pay it again. This was thought
the only equitable view of the matter by all who
heard of it, and the sheriff delayed to pronounce
either interlocutor or decreet in the case till he
had advised with his lawyers. But Meldrum’s power
with the sheriff so prevailed, that, on the 18th of
January that same year, he pronounced a decreet
against the tenants, for the payment not only of
what was due by them at the time of the arrestment,
but also for the payment of the rent of the subsequent
year, commencing in April 1683; and this decreet
was pronounced against them without their ever
having been summoned to hear and see either inter-
locutor or decreet and sentence pronounced against
them, which was contrary to the form always ob-
served by that court when a process was taken up
to be considered.
In these circumstances the tenants sent a petition
to the privy council in the beginning of April 1684:,
with a paper entitled, “Information for Lady Cavers’
Tenants,” both which documents contain the facts
now stated.1 The petition concludes with these
words :-—“ The which sentence [the sentence of the
sheriff], if it shall be executed against us, and we
thereby distressed to make double payment, will not
only for ever incapacitate us for paying any more
rent, but bring us and our poor families to a starving
condition; for all our goods consist of a few nowte 9
and sheep, which, through this stormy winter that
lay very heavy upon our grounds, are now reduced
to a very small number; and if they shall be poinded
and driven from us, there will be nothing remaining
for us but what we can have by begging our bread
in the country. May it therefore please your lord-
ships to pity our sad and distressed condition, that
we may not be altogether broken and ruined, and
to discharge that decreet to be put in execution
against us your humble supplicants, till your lord-
ships examine the matter, and hear the business
before yourselves; and your poor petitioners shall
ever pray for a long and happy reign to his majesty,
and health and prosperity to your lordships.”
Reasonable as is the prayer of this petition, it was
rejected.3 By virtue of the sentence of the sheriff,
letters of horning were raised against the tenants,
and so severe were the proceedings against them,
that about the middle of May, all of them were
apprehended and carried by a party of Meldrum’s


1 Wodrow MSS., v01. nos. 66, 67. Wcdrow’s History, v01.
iv., pp. 54, 55.
2 i.e., cattle. 3 Wodrow’s History, v01. 1%, p. 55.


LADY CAVERS.
125


troops to the tolbooth of Jedburgh. They were
indeed soon after liberated, but it was only to go
home for the better making up of the money which
they were required to pay.1 “I find,” says W od-
row, “they were so discouraged by the linings and
harassings they were put to, that, had not the Laird
of Cavers returned that year, and got the prosecu-
tion stopped, they had all left the ground.” ‘~’
To return to Lady Cavers: when she had been
confined in Stirling Castle about eight months, she
was induced, in consequence of the declining state
of her health, to present a petition to the privy
council, supported by the testimonial of aphysician,
praying for liberty to go for some time to the wells
in England. In answer to her petition, the council,
at their meeting on the 19th of July 1683, “ allow
her from that date to the 15th of October, to go to
the wells for her health, and give order and warrant
to the governor or deputy-governor of the Castle of
Stirling, to set her at liberty, to that effect, in regard
she hath found sufficient caution acted in the books
of privy council, that at or betwixt and the said 15th
day of October, she shall re-cnter her person in
prison, within the said Castle of Stirling, under the
penalty of 5001. sterling, and that during the time
of her being at liberty, and in this kingdom, she
shall live orderly under the same penalty in case of
failure.” 3
At this time, Lady Cavers’ eldest son, Sir William
Douglas, was travelling on the Continent accompanied
by his tutor, Mr. Robert lVylie, who, after the Revo-
lution, became minister of Hamilton. In her present
circumstances, and especially as she was not without
fears that though a settlement were made for her
line, this would not terminate her sufferings for
nonconformity, she was naturally anxious for the
return of her son, hoping that it might be in his
power to procure her liberation from prison, and to
protect her from future hardships. Mr. Gladstancs,
his factor, in a letter to Sir William, dated Edin-
burgh, Octobcr 2, 1683, says,—“ It is thought by
many, when they see how severely others are handled
for reset and converse, that albeit there were some
settlement made for this fine for which she [your
mother] is now imprisoned, her trouble shall not
end there, and whereof being new apprehensive, she
is the more desirous to see you here before any new
trial; and if your coming home could contribute any
thing to her liberation, I do not doubt but you have

already resolved that every thing else shall give place
to so natural a duty.” ‘
To have obtained her liberty through the inter-
position of her son, whom she loved so tenderly,
would doubtless have been highly gratifying to Lady
Cavers; but the assurance that he was living a god-
fearing and virtuous life, would have still more
gladdeued her heart, whereas her hearing of or
witnessing his living a life of an opposite description,
would have been to her a source of more poignant
distress than all she had hitherto suffered or might
yet suffer on account of her religious principles.
As an instance of this pious solicitude for the spiri-
tual welfare of her children, we may quote the
following passage from the same letter :—“ I doubt
not,” says Mr. Gladstanes, “ but you have already
heard of the little liberty granted to your mother for
going to a well for her health, and that she is to
return to her prison before the 16th of this month.
I saw her here very much afflicted for some expres-
sions of a letter that you had written to your uncle,
and which she takes more heavily than all the trouble
which she hath met with herself, or whereof she is
yet in hazard. I know not how it is, but I am very
sure you would not willingly write or do any thing
to the increasing of her sorrows. It is like she may
be afraid lest French liberties should spoil a good
Christian education.” 1 In the same letter he says,
“Your uncle Letholme went south eight days ago
to the drawing of your tithes, and we expect both
him and your mother here some time this week.”
Before the time appointed for Lady Cavers return-
ing to prison in Stirling Castle arrived, a petition
was presented to a committee of the privy council,
praying for the extension of the period of her liberty,
but the prayer was refused. She accordingly again
became a prisoner. Being, however, permitted to
take her children to Stirling, where they were to
attend the school, and where she would probably
have frequent opportunities of seeing them, this
would in some degree alleviate the hardships of her
confinement. Mr. Gladstanes, in a letter to Sir
William, who was then at Paris, dated October 23,
1683, thus writes :——“ Your mother went from this
on Saturday was eight days, to re-enter her prison
in Stirling Castle. There was an address made to a
committee of the council before she went away, for
continuing her liberty. Most of them inclined to
favour her bill, but did not think their power full
enough for granting it till a more numerous meet
ing of the haill council, which is not to be till the
8th of November. Archibald and John went west


1Letter of Mr. Gladstanes to Sir William Douglas, dated Qlth
May 1684, Wodrozv 3158., vol. xxx, lite, no. ll l.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 55.
3 Dee-reefs Of Privy Council.
1
l 1 Wodrow 3155., vol. UL, 4110., no. 113. 2 lbid.






124
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



with her to Stirling school; James and Tom were
left at Cavers till Jamie recovered of a little dis-
temper, whereof now I hear he is grown better.
Your sister was left here till your mother considered
whether it were better to put her to a school here,
or take her west with a woman to teach her there.” 1
From the mitigated tone in which the committee
of the privy council expressed themselves regarding
Lady Cavers, one would be prepared to anticipate
that at the meeting of council on the 8th of Novem-
ber, the period of her temporary liberty would be
prolonged. But such was not the case. She con-
tinued lying in prison for more than a year longer.
Depressed, though not subdued, by long and close
confinement, by the impoverished circumstances of
herself and her children, and by the weak state of

health to which she was reduced, she presented a;
petition to the privy council, praying them to remit
her fine, or favourably to represent her case to his
majesty, or to allow her to obtain her jointure for
the support of herself and her children. The peti~
tion is as follows :—
“Unto the Right Honourable the Lords of his
Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council—-
The Petition of the Lady Cavers,
“ HUMBLY SHOWETI-I,
“ That whereas by your lordships’ sen- '
tence upon the [13th] day of November 1682, she
was fined in 500i. sterling, and committed prisoner
to the Castle of Stirling until the same were paid,
she does now with all humility represent to your
lordships, that the said decreet was founded singly
upon her declining to give her oath upon the points
of the libel, which she did not out of any contumacy,
but from a tenderness she hath ever naturally had
of giving an oath in any case, but will not decline
the most exact and most strict trial in the matters
of which she was accused; and is so conscious of
her own innocence, that she doubts not but upon
such trial it will appear that she was misrepresented
to your lordships by misinformations, proceeding
either of malice or mistake, to which she is the more
exposed, being a person living abstract from all
company, employing her time in the education of her
numerous fatherless children; and she farther hum-
bly represents to your lordships the meanness and
smallness of her estate, which consists only of a
jointure not exceeding 150i. sterling a year; that she
is in debt, and stands bound by an old settlement
with her children’s friends, to aliment her younger
children, whereof there are five: By which it is


more than evident to your lordships, that unless
your lordships be favourably pleased to grant her
relief from the said fine, she and her poor fatherless
children, (who are the issue of a family who for
many ages have served their king and country faith-
fully and honourably), will be reduced not only
to ruin, but downright starvation. She hath also
suffered a long and tedious imprisonment, by which
both her health and estate are exceedingly impaired,
and is firmly resolved in all time coming to live
inofi’ensively to the whole world, educating her
children, and enjoying herself in her recluse and
desolate condition, without meddling with any per-
sons or affairs in the world.
“\lay it therefore please your lordships to take
the premises into your serious consideration, and,
in compassion to the widow and fatherless, remit
her and them the ‘said fine; or (if your lordships
think it necessary) that you will be pleased favoun
ably to represent their sad and deplorable condition
to his sacred majesty, from whose innate justice and
gracious goodness and clemency she submissively
* hopes for the granting of this her humble desire;
and, in the meantime, that your lordships, in your
great goodness, will be pleased to permit her to in-
tromit with her jointure for alimenting her poor five
fatherless children, which it will hardly suffice to do
in respect of the meanness of it, and of the debt
with which it stands already affected.
“ And your petitioner shall ever pray.” ‘
Affecting as is this petition, it seems to have been
disregarded by the lords of the privy council, who,
actuated by a hard-hearted avarice, would neither
remit nor mitigate her fine. Her son having, about
this time, returned to London from his travels on
the Continent, 2 she and her friends cherished the
hope that by his intercessions with some of the lead-
ing statesmen in London, the government might be




1 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxx, 4to, no. 113. The letter is addressed
on the back, “For the Laird of Cavers Douglas.”
1 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxiii., folio, no. 69. Wodrow, in the Table
of Contents, refers the petition to the year 1684.
2 Sir William had been, some time previous to his return, married
to a French lady, with whom he had fallen in love in his travels.
But when he intended to return home, obstaclcswcre interposed in
the way of his wife and child returning with him. He was not per-
sonally restrained, but his wife and the child, which, in consequence
of its mother being a French woman, was considered as naturalized,
were declared to be subjects of France, and, according to the 10th
article of the edict of Nantz (which received the royal signature on
the 8th of October 1685,) were prohibited from departing out of the
realm. Sir William Turnbull, the English ambassador in France, in
a letter to Lord Sutherland, dated December 19, 1685, thus writes ;
“ I acquainted him [i.e. Louis XIV.] also with Sir William Ilouglas’s
petition for leave for his wife and child to go into England with him.
But this, he told me plainly, the king had refused; for although the
11 ‘ '1, being not naturalizel, might go if be pleased, yet the wife
and child were subjects of France, and should not have that permis-
sion.”-—Dalr_vmple’s Memoirs, vol. i., part i., pp. 122, 123.
_-__’___.___._-..___-
LADY CAVERS.
125


__q___.___
prevailed upon to set her at liberty, and to remit
her fine. Mr. Gladstanes, his factor, who appears
to have sympathized deeply in her case, in a letter
to him, dated “ Cavers, May 24, 1684:,” informs him
of her circumstances, and strongly incites him to
exert himself at London, to the utmost of his power,
to obtain for his mother relief. “I am very glad,”
says he, “to hear of your safe return to London.
I heard from your mother the last
week, with some of her tenants that had gone west
to Stirling about the taking of their land. If it
were not that her restraint confines both her and
the children to Stirling, I know the condition of
their health is such as requires her and most of
them to be at some wells this summer. I need not
tell you with what joy she received the message
which brought the news of your curators having
resolved to bring you home this summer. The
solicitous care and constant tenderness she hath
ever had for you, may gain your belief that nothing
is capable of giving such ease to her present suffer-
ings as the hopes of seeing you soon, after so long
an absence. She hath endured very much in a long
and tedious imprisonment, and the restoring her to
liberty seems only to have been reserved for you, as
the fittest and most proper instrument for obtaining
of the same. All things concur with that desire I
know you have to perform so just and necessary a
duty. You are trysted to be at London in such a
favourable juncture, when you have the opportunity
of addressing yourself to our great officers of state.
I do not know the methods you will be advised to
take, or what hopes there may be of success ; but,
to every unconcerned person, it appears very hard
to shut up liferenters and detain them in prison till
they pay a sum of money which exceeds three years’
rent of their estate, without allowing them any part
thereof for their maintenance.” And after stating
the proceedings against the tenants, which have been
already detailed, he says,-“We hear that before
the treasurer went away, Sir Adam Blair of Car-
berrie, and Sir IVilliam Lockhart of Carstairs, were
commissionat and empowered by the exchequer to
uplift and intromit with your mother’s fine, for pay-
ment of an old debt due to them by the king 5 but
if a gift thereof (at least some considerable abate-
ment) were procured at London, either for yourself
or the rest of the children, it would make void that
which is granted to them by the exchequer. Your
cousin, Mr. tichard, did solicit the treasurer before
he went out of Scotland, that he might both grant
liberation, and appoint some aliment to your mother,
out of her own jointure, but he [the treasurer] then
declined to meddle in the affair. It is Mr. Richard’s

opinion, if you duly attend the treasurer, while he
is at London, as he promised to him you would do,
and diligently ply the business, that you may both
procure her liberty and a remit of the line. Castle-
hill may also be very useful to gain the chancellor
to favour your suit, and who, I suppose, is both
well enough known to yourself and Mr. R. W.,”
[Robert Wylie] 1
Sir William would doubtless do what he could in
his mother’s case; but his success was less than had
been anticipated. After using many means in private
with influential persons, he at length, in the close
of the year 1684, presented in her behalf the follow-
ing petition to the privy council :—
“To the Right Honourable the Lords of his
Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council——
The humble Petition of Sir William Douglas
of Cavers,
“ Snownrn,
“ That your petitioner’s mother having
been several years now in prison, for not going to
the church, your petitioner is very desirous she
should be reclaimed, but yet such is his respect to
his majesty’s government and laws, that he will not
interpose for any thing that may be of ill example
to others, and therefore he humbly offers to your
lordships, that because of her great indisposition,
and that she may be dealt with by her friends who
are now very remote from her, he may be allowed
to be cautioner for her. that she shall either live
regularly, or else that, within three months after the
date of her liberation, she shall remove forth of this
kingdom, and not return thereto without special
allowance from his majesty or his privy council, by
which the country, if she comply not, will be freed
from any influence she may have, or any prejudice
she may do, and which cannot be expected by keep-
ing her in prison; and as this is a safe remedy, and
will be a suilicient terror to others in the like
circumstances, there being nothing so terrible to a
woman as to leave her native country, her children,
her friends and acquaintances, so the justices do
ordinarily allow this to such as are even denounced
fugitives upon this occasion, and particularly this
was allowed to the Lady Longformacus, 2 Lady

1 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxx., 4to, no. 114.
2 “ August 2, at dieb. seq , 1683. The Lady Longformacus being
pursued for resetting of rebels; and it being alleged for her that
she lived at Berwick; the criminal lords ordained her to find caution
to live orderly when in Scotland, under the pain of 3000 merks, or
else to remove out of Scotland, never to return without the king’s
special license. And this course they took with other women pur-
sued, because they could not put them to take the test.”—Foun-
tainhall’s Decisions, vol. i., p. 236. This Lady was probably the


126 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.





Moristonl and others; and your lordships will find
it upon trial to be a far more effectual remedy than
imprisonment, which, being within one’s native
country, becomes very familiar and easy in a very
short time, especially to melancholy women, who
use to stay much within doors; and your lordships’
answer, 850.” 2
The tutors of Sir William had succeeded, it would
appear, in training him up, if not to a hearty
approval of the persecuting and tyrannical measures ’
of the government, at least to an acquiescence in
these measures, from considerations of worldly
advantage; although by doing so he could not fail
to grieve the heart of his mother, whose earnest
desire it was to see him following in the steps of
his honoured ancestors, who had nobly struggled in
their day for the truths of Christ and the liberties
of the Church. In July 1684:, he took the test,
(which his father would never have done,) to qualify
him for acting as sheriff of Teviotdalef and the
style of the above petition breathes a temporizing
spirit. But compromising as was Sir William in
his political and religious principles, the only ground
upon which he could induce the council to set his
mother at liberty, was his becoming surety for her,
“that she should depart forth of this kingdom within
the space of fourteen days inclusive, after she should
be liberated, and should never return thereto without
his majesty’s or the council’s special license; and
that in the meantime, until the said fourteen days
elapse, and thereafter, if she remained within the
country, she should live regularly and orderly, and
that under the penalty of 9000 merks Scots money,
in case of failure; and farther, that she should make
payment to his majesty’s cash-keeper, for his ma-

l
jesty’s use, of the sum of 500l. sterling, formerly
imposed upon her by sentence of council, at least
of so much thereof as is yet resting, and not dis-
charged, and that betwixt and the term of
next.” Sir William having given the security
required, an act of council was passed, December
‘ 24', 1684, giving orders for his mother’s liberation.’

The money was exacted from him to the last farthing;
and his mother removed out of Scotland within the
time specified, retiring to England. These facts
we learn from a petition which Sir William presented
to the privy council, humbly showing that he had
fully obeyed their lordships’ sentence, by paying to
the cash-keeper, and those having power and com-
mission from him, the sum of 500i. sterling, being
his mother’s fine, and that she had removed, within
the space of fourteen days after her liberation, from
Scotland “into the kingdom of England, where she
still remains ;” and therefore praying their “lord-
ships to appoint and ordain the clerks of council to
deliver up to him his bond, as having satisfied and
performed the same in all points.”
ing on the 28th of January 1686, the lords of
council complied with the prayer of this petition.2
Such was the issue of the grievous outrage com-
mitted upon the person of Lady Cavers, who was
first foully slandered, then punished by a heavy fine
without proof of any offence committed, then thrown
into prison, where she was detained till security was
given that the fine should be paid; and who, even
when that security had been given, and after she had
for years been so deeply injured, was compelled to
leave the kingdom. How unfecling the rapacity of
these unjust rulers! How contemptible their un-
manly treatment of a lady whose helpless situation
claimed for her sympathy and protection! But so
hateful in their eyes was the taint of Presbyterianism,
and so lost were they to every honourable feeling,
that the most eminent virtue and piety in ladies. of
this persuasion, afforded no security against their
becoming the victims of the most flagrant injustice
and oppression. The subsequent history of Lady
Cavers has not been preserved; nor have we been
able to discover the time of her death.

reliet of Sir Robert Sinclair, first baronet of Longformacus, who died
in 1678. She was his second wife ; and was Margaret, second
daughter of William, Lord Alexander, by his wife, Lady Margaret
Douglas, who was the eldest daughter of William, Marquis of Dou-
glas.—Douglas’s Baronage of Scotland, p. 250.
1 Lady Moriston, “ a pious and sensible gentlewoman,” was also
sentenced, in August 1683, by the justiciary court, to leave the
kingdom before the first of November. “ She appears,” says Wod-
row, “ not to have been cited, or any probation led against her, but
summarily is banished for her respect to the gospel and sufferers.”
-Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 4-72.
2 Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxiii, folio no. 68. In the Table of Con-
tents, Wodrow marks this petition as written in 1684.
3 Register of Acts of Privy Council, 25th July 168l.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
* Warrants of Privy Council.

At their meet‘ '







ISABEL
WE have previously met with some of our female
worthies who suffered great hardships, though not
unto the death. We now come to record the history
of others of them who were called to seal their
testimony with their blood. Of this class were
Isabel Alison and Marion Harvey, two young women
in humble life, but of unsullied character and genuine
piety. Their tragic and deeply interesting story, is
enough of itself to entail everlasting infamy 011 the
bloody rulers who pursued them to the death, not
for any crime, for they had committed none, but
simply and solely for their private opinions, which
the council had extortcd from them by artful and
ensnaring questions. They were tried together upon
the same indictment, and executed on the same day
at the Grassmarket of Edinburgh. We shall give a
separate account of each, beginning with the eldest.
ISABEL ALISON was an unmarried woman who
lived at Perth, and probably did not exceed twenty-
seven years of age. Among her religious acquaint-
ances she maintained a high reputation for sobriety
of character and enlightened piety. She had some-
times heard Mr. Donald Cargill and some other
ministers preach in the fields, before the battle of
Bothwell Bridge, but not often, field conventicles
not having been common in the part of the country
where she lived. The sermons she heard on these
occasions were greatly blessed to her, and if not the
means of her conversion, had confirmed her in the
faith, and fortified her for suffering in the cause of
Christ. By the ministrations of Mr. Cargill, she
had in particular been deeply impressed, and had
imbibed the peculiar opinions held by him and Mr.
Richard Cameron.
These two ministers, though different as to age,
pass over him; his head had become gray in the
service of his Master: Cameron was in the prime of
youth, and had but recently put on the harness.
Yet both were actuated by the fearless intrepidity
which high principle and deep piety, combined with
constitutional fortitude, often impart. With the
exception of Mr. John Blackadder, they were the
only ministers, who, after the battle of Bothwell
Bridge, preached in the fields, till Mr. James Ren-
wick appeared on the stage; the other field preachers
having desisted, by reason of the increased danger

!
ALISON.
arising from the increased exasperation of the
government. They and their followers thus became
the special objects of persecuting vengeance, and the
consequence was, that, driven to extremity, they
renounced Charles Stuart as their lawful sovereign,
and proclaimed war against him as a tyrant and
usurper.1 To this party, we have said, Isabel Alison
belonged; and it was for holding their principles in
regard to the unlawfulness of the then existing civil
government, that she was doomed to undergo a
traitor’s death. These principles, as we learn from
herself, she had been led to embrace from the
severities exercised by the curates of Perth upon the
Presbyterians in that place, and from the cruelty of
the government in publicly executing many of the
Presbyterians in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, and
sending soldiers through the country to oppress and
murder the poor inoffensive people. But while
holding these sentiments, she held them quietly,
there being no evidence that she had endeavoured
to propagate them in any way, either by calm repre-
sentation or by inflammatory speeches; nor had the
government any ground for alarm from any influence
which a female, in so humble a condition of life, could
have in weakening or undermining their authority.
She was first apprehended for the freedom of her
remarks upon the harsh treatment- to which some
religious nonconforming people in Perth were sub-
jected; and when brought before the magistrates of
that town, they had nothing else than this of which
to accuse her, till, in her simplicity, she voluntarily
confessed that she had conversed with some whom

i length of disowning the authority of Charles, or who had accepted
were one in spirit. Cargill had seen many years ’
lCargil] and Cameron, with their followers, separated from all
the other Presbyterian ministers and people who could not go the
the Indulgence, or who, though they had not accepted it, continued
to maintain christian fellowship with such as had done so. Mr. John
Blackadder, though one of the most intrepid field preachers, did not
join with Cargill and Cameron’s party, not only because he could
not see it to be his duty to disown the then existing government,
tyrannical as it was, but also because, though he would rather have
laid his head on the block than have accepted the Indulgence himself,
he considered it wrong to separate as they did from the indulged
ministers. Between the Cameronians and the indulged party, much
bitterness and animosity prevailed. Blaekadder, who occupied a
middle position between the two parties, was anxious to Compose
their differences, and to prevent them, if he could not unite them,
from receding farther from each other,—a very laudable under-
taking, but very fruitless in its results, as too frequently happens
in regard to the efforts of peace-makers, to allay the contentions
and real the divisions which aris ev amen» '1 ' '
world of strife. 8 en a Good men m this




1.28 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.



the government had denounced rebels; by which
she had exposed herself to heavy penalties. Having
been examined, she was dismissed by the magis-
trates ; but not long after, she was apprehended in
her chamber at Perth by a party of soldiers, in
execution of an order from the privy council, and
carried to Edinburgh, where she was thrown into
prison. She was next brought before a committee
of the privy council, who, having no evidence that
she had violated the laws then in force against non-
conformists, proceeded, in the true spirit of the
inquisition, to put to her entrapping questions, with
the View of extracting matter which might form the
ground of criminal procedure against her. Besides
the injustice of this treatment in itself, the heart-
less levity with which her examinationwas conducted,
and the attempts made at one time to overawe a
young inexperienced female by threatenings, and at
another time to coax her by promises and com-
mendations, was in the highest degree disgraceful
to the privy council. But though her life was at
stake, she was in no wise daunted in the presence of
her persecutors; she retained her self-possession in
the novel and embarassing circumstances in which
she was placed, and the pointed answers she returned
to the questions put to her, though they show that
on one or two points she had adopted extreme
opinions, are yet highly creditable not only to the
integrity of her character, but to the soundness of
her judgment, while her whole demeanour was
marked by a propriety and dignity above her station,
and which stand favourably contrasted with the
behaviour of the lords of his majesty’s privy council,
who, as Wodrow observes, “acted the buifoon,”
instead of maintaining the decorum and dignity
which became their high office. Indeed the wisdom
and self-possession with which, without premedita-
tion, she answered the questions put to her by the
council, is so striking, that we cannot resist the
impression that the promise which the Saviour made
to his disciples, when brought into such circum-
stances, was remarkably verified in her case : “ And
ye shall be brought before governors and kings for
my sake, for a testimony against them and the Gen-
tiles. But when they deliver you up, take no
thought how or what ye shall speak; for it shall be
given you in that same hour what ye shall speak,”
(Matt. x. 18, 19.)
The questions put to her by the privy council, and
the answers she returned, which we give entire, are
as follows :—
P. C. “Where do you live, at St. J ohnstoun?” 1


I. A. “ Yes.”
P. C. “ What is your occupation P ”
To this question she returned no answer.
Bishop Paterson. “ Have you conversed with Mr.
Donald Cargill P”
I. A. “ Sir, you seem to be a man whom I have
no clearness to speak to. ” He desired another
member of council to put the same question; which
being done, she answered, “I have seen him, and I
wish that I had seen him oftencr.”
P. C. “Do you own what he has done against the
civil magistrate P ”
I. A. “I do own it.”
P. C. “ Can you read the Bible?”
I. A. “Yes.”
P. C. “Do you know the duty we owe to the
civil magistrate?”
I. A. “When the magistrate carrieth the sword
for God, according to what the Scripture calls for,
we owe him all due reverence; but when magistrates
overturn the work of God and set themselves in
opposition to him, it is the duty of his servants to
execute his laws and ordinances on them.”
P. C. “Do you own the Sanquhar Declaration P” 1
I. A. “I do own it.”
P. C. “Do you own the papers taken at the
Queensfcrry on Henry I-Iall P ” 2

1 The old name of Perth.
1 This was a paper or manifesto drawn up in 1680 by Mr. Richard
Cameron and some of his followers, in which they “disown Charles
Stuart as having any right, title to, or interest in the said crown of
Scotland for government, as forfeited several years since by his
perjury and breach of covenant both to God and his Kirk, and
usurpation of his crown and royal prerogatives therein, and many
other breaches in matters ecclesiastic, and by his tyranny and
breach of the very leges regmmdi in matters civil;” and in which
they declare war against him as a tyrant and usurper. About
twenty of the party came together in arms to Sanquhar upon the
‘22d of June, and after the Declaration was read at the cross, affixed
a copy of it there. It is, accordingly, usually called The Sanquhar
Declaration, from the place where it was published. What share
Cargill had in the compilation of this paper is not known. At his
examination before the privy council he denied that he was at the
emitting of it, and declared that he did not see it till after it was
published, but refused to say whether he had any hand in drawing
it up.—Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., pp. 212, 280. The Sanquhar
Declaration, as might have been expected, infuriated the govern-
ment against the Cameronians, and one of the questions which, after
its proclamation, was usually put to the Presbyterians brought
before the privy council was, Do you own the Sanquhar Declara-
tion? If they answered in the affirmative, this was considered
equivalent to a confession of high treason, and on this confession
they were hanged at the Grassmarket.
2 The papers here referred to were what Was commonly called,
“The Queensferry Paper,” or “Cargill’s Covenant,” and by the
government, “The Fanatics’ New Covenant.” This document was
found on Henry Hall of Haughead, in the following manner :--He
and Mr. Cargill, when travelling in the South Queensferry by the
castle of Blackness, about the beginning of June, 1680, were fol-
lowed by the captain of the garrison of the castle, and taken imme-
diately on their arrival at the town of Queensferry, but were soon
after rescued by a company of women. Cargill made his escape;
but Hall, having in a scuffle with the soldiers been mortally wounded,
soon after fell into the hands or a party under the command of
Dalziel ; and on his being searched, there was found upon him an


ISABEL
ALISON. 1:29


I. A. “ You need not question that.”
P. C. “ Do you know Mr. Skene ? ”
I. A. “I never saw him.”
P. C. “Have you conversed with rebels P”
I. A. “I never conversed with rebels.”
P. C. “Have you conversed with David Hack-
stoun P”
I. A. “I have conversed with him, and I bless
the Lord that ever I saw him, for I never saw ought
in him but a godly pious youth.”
P. C. “ Was the killing of the bishop of St.
Andrews‘ a pious act P”
I. A. “I never heard him say that he killed him ;
but if God moved any, and put it upon them to
execute his righteous judgments upon him, I have
nothing to say to that.”
P. C. “When saw you John Balfour, that pious
youth?”
I. A. “ I have seen him.”
P. C. “When?”
I. A. “These are frivolous questions, I am not
bound to answer them.”
At which they said, “You don’t think that a
testimony.”
P. C. “ What think you of that in the Confession
of Faith, That magistrates should be owned though
they were heathens i’ ”
I. A. “It was another matter than when those
who seemed to own the truth have now overturned
it, and made themselves avowed enemies to it.”
P. C. “I/Vho should be judge of these things P ”
I. A. “The Scriptures of truth and the Spirit of
God, and not men that have overturned the work
themselves.”
P. C. “Do you know the two Hendersons that
murdered the Lord St. Andrews ? ”
I. A. “I never knew any Lord St. Andrews.”
P. C. “ Mr. James Sharp, if you call him so P ”

nnsubscribed paper in the form of a covenant, in which, among
other things, Charles is rejected from being king. It was generally
supposed to have been drawn up by Cargill, with the advice and
knowledge of only a very few of his party, and was merely a rude
draught intended to be sent over to the banished and refugee Pres’
byterians in Holland for their consideration, and to be laid aside,
or acted upon, as they should advise. Hall was waiting for an oppor-
tunity of going over to Holland when he fell into the hands of the
enemy. After this paper was discovered, a constant question put
by the privy council to the Presbyterians brought before them was,
“ Do you own the Queensferry Paper i”——Wodrow’s History, vol. iii.,
pp. 206-212. And not a few were hanged simply for declaring that
they adhered to it.—Fountainhall’s Historical Notices, &c., vol. 1.,
p. 284. The Sanquhar Declaration, mentioned in the preceding
note, was drawn up in less than three weeks after the discovery of
the Queensferry Paper.
1James Sharp, archbishop of St. Andrews, fell by violence on
Saturday, the 3d of May 1679, at mid-day, on Magus muir, within
two miles of St. Andrews. “ Saturday had been fatal to him,” says
l‘ountainhall, “ on it Mitchell made his attempt,” lite—Historical
Notices, 820., vol. i., p. 225.

I. A. “I never thought it murder; but if God
moved and stirred them up to execute his righteous
judgment upon him, I have nothing to say to that.”
P. C. “ Whether or not will you own all that you
have said, for you will be put to own it in the Grass-
market?” And they expressed their regret that
she should put her life in hazard in such a quarrel.
I. A. “ I think my life little enough in the quarrel
of owning my Lord and Master’s sweet truths; for
he hath freed me from everlasting wrath, and
redeemed me: and as for my body, it is at his dis-
posal.”
P. C. “ You do not follow the Lord’s practice in
that anent Pilate.”
I. A. “Christ owned his king-1y office when he
was questioned on it, and he told them he was a
king, and for that end was be born. And it is for
that we are called in question this day, the owning
of his kingl y government.”
Bishop Paterson. “ We own it.”
I. A. “ We have found the sad consequence of the
contrary.”
Bishop Paterson. “ I pity you for the loss of your
life.”
I. A. “ You have done me much more hurt than
the loss of my life, or all the lives you and they have
taken; for it hath much more alfected me that many
souls have been killed by your doctrine.”
Bishop Paterson. “Wherein is our doctrine
erroneous ?”
I. A. “That has been better debated already than
a poor lass can debate it.”
P. C. “Your ministers do not approve of these
things ; and you have said more than some of your
ministers; for your ministers have brought you on
to these opinions, and left you there.”
I. A. “You have cast in baits among the minis-
ters, and harled them aside ; and although ministers
say one thing to-day, and another to-morrow, we
are not obliged to follow them in that.”
P. C. “IVe pity you; for we find reason and a
quick wit in you ; and would have you to take the
matter into consideration.”
I. A. “I have been advising on it these seven
years, and I hope not to change now.”
P. C. “Do you lecture any i’ ” asked they mock-
ingly.
I. A. “Quakers [Quakeresses ?] use to do so.”
P. C. “ Do you own Presbyterian principles?”
I. A. “I do.”
P. C. “ Are you distempered ? ”
I. A. “I was always solid in the wit that God
has given me.”
P. C. “What is your name i’ ”
n



130 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



I. A. “Since you have staged me, you might
remember my name, for I have told you already, and
will not always be telling you.”
One of them said, “May you not tell us your
name P ” Then one of themselves told it.‘
From these answers, the council had new dis-
covered all that they deemed necessary for instituting
criminal proceedings against her for high treason.
But what had they discovered? Merely certain
opinions which she had adopted. some of them indeed
extreme, such as it was natural enough for a young
unlcttered religious female, in the circumstances of
the times, to embrace, but which an upright and
bone urable government would have deem edit beneath
its dignity to notice. “There is no treason sure,”
says one of Sir Walter Scott’s characters, “ in a man
enjoying his own thoughts under the shadow of his
own bonnet ;” and every man possessing an ordinary
sense of justice will be of the same mind. The
opinions of this female as to the unlawfulness of
the civil government then existing, could certainly
do no harm so long as they were confined within the
recesses of her own mind; and the council had no
evidence that she had ever given utterance to them
‘ even in a single instance, except in answer to the
harassing questions with which they plied her; and
yet for mere opinions thus extorted, they resolved
to pursue her to the death. She was accordingly
next brought before the lords of justiciary on the
6th of December 1680, with the design of bringing
her to own, before that court, the confession she had
made before the privy council, that the confession,
thus becoming judicial, might be made the ground
of a criminal process. Such was the constant prac-
tice of the privy council at this time,-—the one day
to bring the Covenanters who fell into their hands
before them, and there involve them by inquisitorial
examinations into a confession of statutory crimes,
sometimes threatening them with the thumb-screw
and boot, if they were not free and ingenuous;
and the next day to bring them before the justiciary
court, “where, if they were silent, they were asked
if they would quit the testimony they had given
yesterday.” 2 From the confessions thus extorted,
an indictment was framed, and a packed jury having
brought them in guilty, they were hanged at the
Grassmarket or the Gallowlee. Such was the mode
of procedure which the government thought proper
to adopt against this excellent woman.
The questions put to her when brought before
the lords of justiciary, and the answers she returned,
are as follows :—

1 Cloud of Witnesses, pp. 85—87.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 276.
L. J. “ “fill you abide by what you said last day P ”
I. A. “I am not about to deny any thing of it.”
L. J. “ You confessed that you harbourcd the
killers of the bishop, though you would not call it
murder P ”
I. A. “I confessed no such thing.”
Lord Advocate. “ You did.”
I. A. “I did not; andIwill take with no untruths.”
Lord Advocate. “ Did you not converse with
them P ”
I. A. “I said I did converse with David Hack-
stoun, and I bless the Lord for it.”
L. J. “When saw you him last P ”
I. A. “Never since you murdered him.”
Then they desired her to say over what she said
the last day; to which she replied, “Would you
have me to be my own accuser?” They said to
her that the advocate was her accuser. “ Let him
say on then,” rejoined she, with spirit. Then they
repeated what had passed between the council and
her the other day, and required her to say whether
or not that was true—yes or no. She answered,
“Ye have troubled me too much with answering
questions, seeing ye are a judicature which I have
no clearness to answer.”
L. J. “Do you disown us, and the king’s autho-
rity in us i) ”
I. A. “I disown you all, because you carry the
sword against God, and not for him, and have, these
nineteen or twenty years, made it your work to
dethrone him, by swearing, year after year, against
him and his work, and assuming that power to a
human creature which is due to him alone, and have
rent the ministers from their Head—Christ, and one
another.”
L. J. “ Who taught you these principles? ”
I. A. “I am beholden to God that taught me
these principles ? ”
L. J. “Are you a Quaker? ”
I. A. “Did you hear me say I was led by a spirit
within me? I bless the Lord I profited much by
the persecuted gospel; and your acts of indemnity,
after Bothwell, cleared me more than any thing I
met with since.”
L. J. “ How could that be ? ”
I. A. “ By your meddling with Christ’s interests,
and parting them as you pleased.”
L. J. “We do not usurp Christ’s prerogatives.”
I. A. “What, then, mean your indulgences, and
your setting up of prelacy P for there has none
preached publicly these twenty years without perse-
cution, but those that have had their orders from you.”
Then they caused bring the Sanquhar Declaration,

and the paper found on Mr. Richard Cameron, and


ISABEL ALISON.
131



the papers taken at Queensferry, and asked, “Will
you adhere to them P ”
I. A. “I will, as they are according to the Scrip-
tures, and I see not wherein they contradict them.”
L. J. “ Did ever Mr. W'elsh or Mr. Riddell teach
you these principles?”
I. A. “I would be far in the wrong to speak any
thing that might wrong them.”
L. J. “Take heed what you are saying, for it is
upon life and death that you are questioned.”
I. A. “ Would you have me to lie? I would not
quit one truth though it would purchase my life a
thousand years, which you cannot purchase nor
promise me an hour.”
L. J. “ When saw you the two Hendersons and
John Balfour? Seeing you love ingenuity [ingenu-
ousness], will you be ingenuous, and tell us if you
saw them since the death of the bishop?”
I. A. “They appeared publicly within the land
since.”
L. J. “Have you conversed with them within
these twelve months i’ ”
At this question she remained silent.
L. J. “ Say either yea or nay.”
I. A. “Yes.”
L. J. “Your blood be upon your own head; we
shall be free of it.”
I. A. “ 30 said Pilate; but it was a question if
it was so; and you have nothing to say against me
but for owning of Christ’s truth-r, and his persecuted
members.”
To this they made no answer. Then they desired
her to subscribe what she had owned, but she
refused ; upon which they subscribed it for her. '
The substance of the answers she had given, in
so far as the court judged them criminating, was
drawn up by the clerk into the following document,
which they called her confession, and which was
subscribed by the lords justiciary :—
“ Edinburgh, 6th Dec., 1680.
“The said day, in presence of the lords justice-
clerk and commissioners of justiciary, sitting in judg-
ment, compeared Isabel Alison, prisoner; and being
interrogate concerning several matters, answered,
That she was not obliged to answer to the lords of
justiciary, for she did not look upon them as judges,
and declined their authority, and the king’s autho-
rity, by which they sit, because they carry the sword
against the Lord; and owns the Bond of Combina-
tion,2 subscribed by Mr. Richard Cameron, Mr.
Thomas Douglas, and others, and adheres thereto,


the same being publicly read to her; and the fourth
article of the Fanatics’ New Covenant 1 being read
to her, as also the Declaration at Sanquhar, she
adhered thereto ; and said she saw nothing in them
against the Scriptures, and therefore she owned
them, but refused to sign this her declaration, though
she can Write. (Sic szrdscrz'biz‘zng)
“ MAITLAND.
“ DANIEL BALFOUR.
“ J A. FALCONER.
“ Roenn Hoe.” 2
It was now resolved to proceed against her before
'the justiciary court, and a libel was drawn up,
founded solely upon her own confession. Her trial
took place on the 17th of January 1631. In the
indictment,3 she is charged with receiving, main-
taining, supplying, intercominuning, and keeping
' correspondence with Mr. Donald Cargill, Mr. Tho-
mas Douglas, Mr. John Welsh, the deceased Mr.
Richard Cameron, the bloody and sacrilegious mur-
derers of Archbishop Sharp, and with having heard
the said ministers preach up treason and rebellion.
In it she is farther charged with owning and adher-
ing to the “horrid and treasonable papers” called
“The Fanatics’ New Covenant,” and the Sanquhar
Declaration, which the above ministers and their
associates, it is asserted, formed and devised, and
with owning and adhering to the “ unchristian
expressions, principles, and opinions therein con-
tained.” And it concludes with declaring that of
the above treasonable crimes she was actor, art and
part, which being found proven by a jury, she ought
to be punished with forfeiture of life, land, and goods,
to the terror of others to commit the like hereafter.
The indictment having been read, she was asked
by the court if she had any objections against it, to

1 Cloud of Witnesses.
2 This was a bond or covenant for mutual defence, which Richard
Cameron, and about thirty more, entered into and subscribed shortly
after the publication of the Sanquhar Declaration. Among other
things, it disowned the civil government then existing. It was
found on Richard Cameron at Airsmoss, where he fell fighting
bravely in sclf-defenee.—Sce Wodrow’s Ilistory, vol. iii., p. 218.
1 That is, the Queensferry Paper or Covenant. The fourth article
of this Covenant runs as follows;—~“That we shall endeavour, to
our utmost, the overthrow of the kingdom of darkness, and what-
ever is contrary to the kingdom of Christ, especially idolatry and
popery, in all the articles of it, as we are bound in our national
Covenants ; superstition, will-worship, and prelacy, with its hierarchy,
as we are bound in our solemn League and Covenant; and that we
shall, with the same sincerity, endeavour the overthrow of that power,
(it being no more authority,) that hath established, and upholds
that kingdhm of darkness, that prelacy, to wit, and erastianism over
the Church, and bath exercised such a lustful and arbitrary tyranny
over the subjects, taken all power in their hand, that they may at
their pleasure introduce popery in the Church, as they have done
arbitrary government in the §tate.”—Wodrow’s History, vol. iii.,
p. 5208.
1’ Records of the J usticiary Court.
3 See her indictment, and that of Marion Harvey, in Appendix,
No. vi.


132, THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.



which she answered that she had none. They next
successively read the Sanquhar Declaration, and the
document called the New Covenant, asking, at the
close of the reading of each paper, if she owned it,
to which she answered in the affirmative. The
indictment having been found relevant by the court,
and remitted to the knowledge of a jury, the jury
were next called, who showed considerable reluc-
tance to appear, and only came forward on being
threatened with fines. Two of them absented them-
selves altogether, for which they were fined by the
court; 1 and one of them had so strong a conviction
of the iniquity of the whole proceedings, that when,
after the court refused, at his desire, to exempt him
from being a juryman, he was required to swear the
usual oath, he trembled so much that he could not
hold up his hand. Before the jury was sworn, on
being asked by the court if she had any objections
to offer against any of them, she answered that they
were all alike, for no honest man would take the
trade in hand. The jury being sworn, she told them
that all authority is of God, (Rom. xiii. 1;) that
when they appeared against him, she was clear to
disown them; that had they not been against him,
she would not have been there, and added, “ I take
every one of you witness against another at your
appearance before God, that your proceeding against
me is only for owning of Christ, his gospel and
members; which I could not disown, lest I should
come under the hazard of denying Christ, and so be
denied of him.” 9
The probation then proceeded. But the only
proof which the prosecutor, Sir George M‘Kenzie,
his majesty’s advocate, could adduce, was her own
confession which she had made before the lords of
justiciary. This document (see p. 131) was now
read in court; and in answer to a question put to
her, she owned and adhered to it in presence of the
jury. The king’s advocate then addressed the jury.
“ You know,” said he, “that these women?‘ are
guilty of treason.” “They are not guilty of matter
of fact,” said the jury. “ Treason is fact,” said he;
but correcting himself, he added, “ It is true, it is


but treason in their judgment ; but go on according
to our law, and if you will not do it, I will proceed.” ‘
He farther said, making a feeble attempt to ward
off from the government the odium of taking the
lives of these two confessors, “ We do not desire to
take their lives ; for we have dealt with them many
ways, and sent ministers to deal with them, and we
cannot prevail with them.”
The speech of the 10rd advocate being concluded,
the jury removed from the court to the jury-house,
to reason and vote upon the articles of the indict-
ment and the proof, but soon returned to the court,
and by their chancellor delivered their verdict in
presence of the lords of justiciary, unanimously
finding Isabel Alison “guilty, conform to her con-
fession of adherence to the fourth article of The
Fanatics’ New Covenant, and to the Declaration at
Sanquhar, and to the Bond of Combination; but as
actor or receipter of rebels, they find it not proven.”
The lords delayed the pronouncing of doom and
sentence against her till Friday at twelve o’clock,
being the 21st of the current month. On the 21st,
she was again brought before the court to receive
her “ doom and sentence for the treasonable crimes
mentioned in her dittay” [indictment], which was,
that she “be taken to the Grassmarket of Edin'
burgh, upon Wednesday next, the 26th instant, be-
twixt two and four o’clock in the afternoon, and
there to be hanged on a gibbet till she be dead, and
all her lands, heritages, goods, and gear whatsomever,
to be escheat and inbrought to our sovereign lord’s
use, which was pronounced for doom.” 2
Such was the bloody sentence pronounced upon
this female, not for any act of resistance to the
laws, but solely for the opz'm'mzs she held, and which
had been discovered only by the artful and captious
questions with which she had been teased. But
though condemned to die ostensibly for treason, she
felt perfectly persuaded in her own mind, that the real
ground upon which her condemnation proceeded
was her adherence to the persecuted cause of Christ.
In her dying testimony, which she subscribed and
left behind her, dated Edinburgh Tolbooth, January
26, 1681, speaking on this subject, she says, “The
manner of my examination [before the committee of



1 “December 22, 1680. The said day Robert Campbell, merchant,
and Alexander Hume, his majesty’s taylor, being ofttimes called to
have compeared before the said lords this day and place, in the
hour of cause to have passed upon the assize of Isabel Alison and
Marion Harvey, prisoners, as they were lawfully cited for that effect,
lawful time of day hidden, and they not compearand; the lords
justice-clerk and commissioners of justiciary therefore, by the mouth
of John Bauzie, macer of court, decerned and adjudged them, and
each of them, to be an unlawe, and amerciat of one hundred merks
Scots, which was pronounced for doom.”—-Records of the J usticiary
Court.
2 Cloud of Witnesses, p. 89.
3 Marion Harvey, as has been said before, was tried at the same
time, and on the same indictment with Isabel Alison.
1 This seems like threatening them with an assize of error. “ This
relict of barbarous times was a power intrusted to the public pro-
secutor to bring any of the jurymen, or a majority of them, to trial,
for not having decided according to the law as laid down to them.
Of this absurd and tyrannical engine to intimidate the jury from
deciding according to their convictions, M ‘Kenzic made ample use;
he no sooner observed any symptoms of hesitation, or of a desire to
befriend the prisoners at the bar, than with a terrific frown, he
would swear that if they did not give their verdict according to law,
he knew what to do with them!”—M‘Crie’s Sketches of Scottish
Church History, 2d Edition, p. 483.
‘1 Records of the J ustieiary Court.


ISABEL ALISON.
133


the privy council, and before the justiciary court,]
was, 1st, If I conversed with David Hackstoun, and
others of our friends P Which I owned upon good
grounds. 2dly, If I owned the excommunication at
the Torwood, and the Papers found at the Queens-
ferry, and the Sanquhar Declaration, and a paper
found 011 Mr. Cameron at Airsmoss? All which I
owned. Likewise I declined their authority, and
told them that they had declared war against Christ,
and had usurped and taken his prerogatives, and so
carried the sword against him, and not for him: So
I think none can own them, unless they disorn
Christ Jesus. Therefore, let enemies and pretended
friends say what they will, I could have my life on
no easier terms than the denying of Christ’s kingly
offiee. So I lay down my life for owning and
adhering to Jesus Christ, his being a free king in
his own house, and I bless the Lord that ever he
called me to that.”
Among other things, she expresses her adherence
to the National Covenant, and Solemn League and
Covenant,l and enters her protestation against all
the violence done to the work of God for twenty
years bygone.
During the time which elapsed from her con-
demnation to her execution, the grace of God by
which she had been hitherto sustained, did not for-
sake her. She not only retained her composure and
fortitude, but was full of hope and of joy, account-
ing it her honour that she had been called to sur-
render her life in the cause of Christ. “ O the ever-
lasting covenant,” she says, “is sweet to me now!
And I would also say, they that would follow Christ
need not scare at the cross, for I can set my seal to
it, ‘His yoke is easy and his burden is light.’ Yea,
many times he hath made me go very easy through
things that I have thought I would never have win
through. He is the only desirable master, but he
must be followed fully. Rejoice in him, all ye that
love him, ‘ wherefore lift up your heads, and be
exceeding glad, for the day of your redemption



draweth nigh.’ Let not your hearts faint, nor your
hands grow feeble; go on in the strength of the
Lord, my dear friends, for I hope he will yet have a
remnant both of sons and daughters, that will cleave
to him, though they will be very few, ‘even as the
berries on the top of the outmost branches.’ As
for such as are grown weary of the cross of Christ,
and have drawn to a lee-shore that God never
allowed, it may be, ere all be done, it will turn like
a tottering fence, and a bowing wall to them, and
they shall have little profit of it, and as little credit.
But what shall I say to the commendation of Christ
and his cross? I bless the Lord, praise to his holy
name, that hath made my prison a palace to me;
and what am I that he should have dealt thus with
me? I have looked greedy-like to such a lot as
this, but still thought it was too high for me, when
l I saw how vile I was ; but now the Lord hath made
that Scripture sweet to me, Isaiah vi. 6, 7, ‘Then
flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live
l coal in his hand - and he laid it upon my mouth,
and said, Lo! this hath touched thy lips; and thine
iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.’ 0 how
great is his love to rne ! that hath brought me forth
to testify against the abominations of the times, and
kept me from fainting hitherto, and hath made me
to rejoice in him. Now I bless the Lord that ever
he gave me a life to lay down for him. Now, fare-
well all ereature comforts; farewell sweet Bible;
farewell ye real friends in Christ; farewell faith and
hope; farewell prayers and all duties ; farewell sun
and moon. Within a little I shall be free from sin,
and all sorrows that follow thereon. Welcome ever-
lasting enjoyment of the Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost, everlasting love, everlasting joy, everlasting
life!” 1
According to her sentence, she was conducted,
on the 26th of January, to the Grassmarket, to be
executed. An immense crowd assembled to witness
the scene. Marion Harvey suffered along with her.
Five women of bad fame were also executed at the
same time, for the murder of their illegitimate
children.2
On coming to the scaffold, she sung the 84th

1 Like “the testimony ” of the two Apocalyptic witnesses, which
“ tormented them that dwelt on the earth,” the Solemn League and
Covenant was gall and wormwood to the government. So deeply
did they hate it that, on the 18th of January 1682, by act of the
privy council, it, along with Cargill’s Covenant and some other
papers, were solemnly burnt at the Market Cross of Edinburgh, the
magistrates being present in their robes. This stupid malignity is
justly censured by Fountainhall, one of their own party, while at i
the same time he betrays his hatred of the Solemn League. “ Some
wondered,” says he, “ to see their policy in reviving the memory of so
old and buried a legend as the Solemn League was {which was burnt
in 1661 before); and set people now a-work to buy it and read it.
And for Cargill’s ridiculous Covenant, they had, about a twelve-
month before this, caused print it, though that was only in contempt
of it.”—Fountainhall’s Historical Notices of Scottish Affairs, v01. i.,
p. 346.
1 Cloud of Witnesses, pp. 93, 94.
2 “17 and 18 January, 1681. At the criminal court, one Sibilla
Bell and her mother are sentenced to be hanged, for murdering and
strangling a child born by the said Sibilla, in adultery. Item, three
other women are condemned for the same crime committed by them
on their bastards, which sentences were accordingly put to execu-
tion the 26 of January, thereafter, on them. As also two other
women were then hanged for their opinions and principles, disown-
ing the king and the government, and adhering to Cameron’s
treasonable Declaration. They called the one of them Isabel Alison,
from Perth, and the other {Marion} Harvey, brought from Borrows-
tounness.”— Fountainhall’s Historical Notices, vol. i., p. 281.




1341
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES OF


Psalm, to the tune called “ The Martyrs ”--the
melody most frequently used by the suffering Cove-
nanters in singing their Psalms, as in some parts of
Scotland has been handed down by a rude rhyme :—

“This is the tune the Martyrs sang,
When at the gallows-tree they stood,
When they were gaen to die,
Their God to glorifie.”
She next read the 16th chapter of Mark; after
which she desired to pray at the place where she
then stood; but the‘ provost took her away to the
foot of the ladder, and there she engaged in prayer.
In this her last trying hour, God, in whom she
trusted, did not fail to sustain her spirit, and carry
her unscathed through the fires of martyrdom. The
greatness of her peace, and courage, and joy, was
such as strong faith in a reconciled God, and the
unclouded hope of heaven, could alone impart. Only
one thing seemed to wound her delicacy, and that
was the circumstance of her being exposed in the
company of those five unhappy females, who had
murdered their own offspring. But this indignity
she bore with meekness and patience, 011 reflecting
that her Saviour was crucified between two thieves,
as if he had been the most criminal of the three.
She addressed a few sentences to the spectators;
and her last words were, “Farewell all created
comforts; farewell sweet Bible, in which I delighted
most, and which has been sweet to me since I came
to prison; farewell christian acquaintances. Now
into thy hands I commit my spirit, Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost I ” On her uttering these words, the
hangman threw her over, and her spirit returned to
her God and Saviour to receive the inartyr’s crown.
We are not informed where her body was buried;
but there is little doubt that it was disgracefully
cast into that spot, in the Greyfriars’ churchyard,
which was the receptacle of the dead bodies of
malefactors, and into which the dead bodies of most of
the martyrs who suffered death at Edinburgh during
the reigns of Charles II. and James VII. were con-
signed. The ignominy which once attached to this
spot, as the burial-place appropriated for condemned



robbers and murderers, has been obliterated by the
sacredness with which, as the last resting-place of
nearly a hundred martyrs, it is new invested. A
large and handsome tombstone has been here erected
in honour of their memory, bearing the following
. inscription :—
“ Halt, passenger, take heed what you do see,
This tomb doth show for what so me men did die
Here lies interr’d the dust- of those who stood
’Gainst perjury, resisting unto blood;
Adhering to the Covenants, and Laws
Establishing the same; which was the cause
Their lives were sacrific’d unto the lust
Of Prelatists abjur’d. Though here their dust
Lies mixt with murderers and other crew,
Whom justice justly did to death pursue:
But as for them no cause was to be found
Worthy of death, but only they were sound,
Constant, and stedfast ; zealous, witnessing,
For the prerogatives of CHRIST, their KING.
Which truths were seal’d by famous Guthrie’s head
And all along to Mr. Renwick’s blood.
They did endure the wrath of enemies,
Reproaches, torments, deaths, and injuries.
But yet they ’re those, who from such troubles came.
And now triumph in glory with the LAMB.
“ From May '27th, 1661, when the noble Marquis of Argyle was
beheaded, to the 17th of February 1688, that Mr. James Renwick
suffered; were, one Way or other, murdered and destroyed for the
same cause, about eighteen thousand, of whom were execute at
Edinburgh about an Hundred of Noblemen, Gentlemen, Ministers,
and Others; noble Martyrs for JESUS CHRIST. The most of them
lie here.
“For a particular account of the cause and manner of their
sufferings, see The Cloud of Witnesses, Crookshank’s and Defoe’s
Histories.”
Beneath this inscription is sculptured an open
Bible, with the following passages of Scripture
engraven :—
“ Rev. vi. 9, 10, 11.—-And when he had opened the fifth seal, 1
saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word
of God, and for the testimony which they held: And they cried with
a loud voice, saying, How long, 0 Lord, holy and true, dost then
not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?
And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said
unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their
fellow-servants also and their brethren, that should be killed as
they were, should be fulfilled.
“Rev. vii. 14.—These are they which came out of great tribula-
tion, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the
blood of the Lamb.
“Chap. 2d, 10.—Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee
a crown of life.” '





MARION HARVEY.

MARION HARVEY was a servant girl in Borrows- l words, in Psalm lxxxv. 8: ‘The Lord will speak
tounness. Her father, who lived in that village,
appears to have been a man of piety, and had sworn
the National Covenant and Solemn League. It
may, therefore, be presumed that she had received a
religious education.
passed her fourteenth or fifteenth year that her
attention was turned, in good earnest, to divine and
eternal things. Previous to that period, thoughtless
about God and her own spiritual interest-s, she had
conducted herself like thoughtless young people;
yea, she tells us that, in the fourteenth or fifteenth
year of her age, she was a “ blasphemer and Sabbath-
brcaker.” About this time, however, a decided
change took place upon her character. Attracted
by curiosity, or following the crowd, she began to-
attend meetings for the preaching of the gospel in
the fields, which had become very frequent in the part
of the country where she lived, as well as extremely
popular—thousands flocking to hear the perse-
cuted ministers. These conventicles, as they were
nicknamed, though denounced by the government,
and prohibited, under the penalty of death to the min-
ister, and severe penalties to the hearers, were accom-
panied with signal tokens of the divine approbation;
and among the many thousands who, by their instru-
mentality, were brought to the saving knowledge of
Christ, was the subject of this notice. The change
produced upon her character soon became apparent
in her life. She left off hearing the curates, whose
ministry she had formerly attended without scruple ;
she venerated the name of God, which she had for-
merly hlasphemed; she sanctified the Sabbath, which
she had formerly desecrated; and she delighted in
reading the Bible, which she had formerly neglected
and undervalued. Among the ministers whom she
heard at these field meetings were, Mr. John I'Velsh,
Mr. Archibald Riddell, Mr. Donald Cargill, and
Mr. Richard Cameron.
the privy council, she expresses how much spiritual
profit she had derived from the sermons of these
worthy men; and in her dying testimony she says,
“I bless the Lord that ever I heard Mr. Cargill,
that faithful servant of Jesus Christ: I bless the
Lord that ever I heard Mr. Richard Cameron; my
sou‘ has been refreshed with the hearing of him,
particularly at a communion in Carrick, on these

peace unto his people, and to his saints; but let
them not turn again to folly.”’ The two last of
these ministers, as we have seen before, (p. 127,)
I separated from the rest of the Presbyterian min-
But it was not till she had l
isters, forming a party by themselves, and to this
party Marion Harvey was a zealous adherent.
Like many others in those unhappy times, she
fell into the hands of the government, through the
malignity and avarice of a base informer. One of
this class, named James Henderson, who lived in
North Queensferry, and who was habit and repute
in such infamous transactions, had informed against
her,1 for which he received a sum of money; and
when going out of Edinburgh, to hear a sermon to
be preached in the fields by one of the persecuted
ministers, she was apprehended on the road, by
Sergeant Warrock and a party of soldiers, who, it
seems, having, by ensnaring questions, extorted from
her a confession that she had attended field eon-
venticles, carried her to Edinburgh, where she was
imprisoned. Such was the first step of the bloody
proceedings of which this humble female, who was
only about twenty years of age, was made the vic-
tim. She was next brought before the lords of his
majesty’s privy council, who had nothing with which
to charge her except that she had attended field con-
venticles; and no evidence that she had committed
even this offence except her own confession. To
have inflicted upon her, in the absence of other
evidence, the penalties of the laws then in force
against such as were guilty of being present at field
conventicles, would have been flagrantly unjust.
But to rest satisfied with the perpetration of even
this injustice was too lenient a course for the privy
council. Apparently with the design of extracting
from her self-criminating confessions, on the ground
{of which they might take away her life, they
In her examination before '
proceeded to subject her to the same style of
inquisitorial examination to which they had sub-
jected Isabel Alison; and they succeeded in draw-
ing from her an expression of her approbation of
Cargill’s Covenant, of the Sanquhar Declaration, of
the killing of Archbishop Sharp, in so far as the

1This person was, as Marion Harvey expresses it, “the Judas
that sold Archibald Stewart- and Mr. Skene to the bloody soldiers
for so much money.” Both these men sutiered martyrdom.




136
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


Lord raised up instruments for that purpose, and
of the Torwood Excommunication. Her examina-
tion was conducted with the same inhuman levity
as that of Isabel Alison. One of the counsellors
scornfully said to her, that “a rock, a cod, and
bobbins would set her better than these debates; ”
and “yet,” says Wodrow, “they cast them up to
her, and murder her upon them.” Such was the
brutality of Dalziel that he threatened her with the
boot, as she mentions in her dying testimony. Her
answers to the artful questions of the privy council
show that, like her fellow-martyr, Isabel Alison, she
had adopted some extreme opinions; but her be-
haviour was dignified, compared with that of her
lordly inquisitors.
The following are the questions put to her by the
privy council, and the answers she returned :—
P. G. “How long is it since you saw Mr. Donald
Cargill P ”
M. H. “ I cannot tell particularly when I saw him.”
P. C. “ Did you see him within these three
months P”
M. H. “ It may be I have.”
P. C. “Do you own his Covenant?”
M. H. “ What Covenant P ”
Then they read it to her, and she said she owned it.
P. C. “Do you own the Sanquhar Declaration.P ”
M. H. “Yes.”
P. C. “Do you own these to be lawful P ”
M. H. “ Yes; because they are according to the
Scriptures and our Covenants, which ye swore your-
selves, and my father swore them.”
P. C. “Yea; but the Covenant does not bind
you to deny the king’s authority.”
M. H. “ So long as the king held the truths of
God, which he swore, we were obliged to own him;
but when he broke his oath, and robbed Christ of
his kingly rights, which do not belong to him, we
were bound to disown him and you also.”
P. C. “Do you know what you say? "
M. H. “ Yes.”
P. C. “ Were you ever mad?”
M. H. “I have all the wit that ever God gave
me; do you see any mad act in me P "
P. C. “ \Vhere was you born? ”
M. H. “ In Borrowstounness.”
P. C. “What was your occupation there P”
M. H. “I served.”
P. C. “ Did you serve the woman that gave
Mr. Donald Cargill quarters P ”
M. H. “ That is a question which I will not
answer.”
P. C. “Who grounded you in these principles
“,9
y
.


M. H. “Christ, by his Word.”
P. C. “ Did not ministers ground you in these P "
M. H. “ When the ministers preached the lVord,
the Spirit of God hacked and confirmed it to me.”
P. C. “ Did you ever see Mr. John ‘Welsh? ”
M. H. “Yes; my soul hath been refreshed by
hearing him.”
P. C. “Have you ever heard Mr. Archibald
ItiddellP ”
.M. H. “ Yes; and I bless the Lord that ever I
heard him.” i
P. C. “Did ever they preach to take up arms
against the king P”
M. H. “I have heard them preach to defend the
gospel, which we are all sworn to do.” 1
P. C. “ Did you ever swear to Mr. Donald Car- -
gill’s Covenant P ”
M. H. “ No; but we are bound to own it.”
P. C. “Did you ever hear Mr. George J ohn-
ston P ” 2
M. H. “I am not concerned with him; I would
not hear him, for he is joined in a confederacy with
yourselves.”
“P. C. “Did you hear the excommunication at
the Torwood? ”
M. H. “\Io ; I could not win to it.”
P. C. “ Do you approve of it P ”
M. H. “Yes.”
P. C. “Do you approve of the killing the LOI'CI
St. Andrews P ”
M. H. “ In so far as the Lord raised up instru-
ments to execute his just judgments upon him, I.
have nothing to say against it; for he was a per-
jured wretch, and a betrayer of the Kirk of Scotland.”
P. C. “What age are you of P ”
M. H. “ I cannot tell.”
‘ They said among themselves, that she would be
about twenty years of age, and began to regret her
case, and said to her, “Will you cast away [your]
self so P ”

_ the principle of the law of self-preservation, which is antecedent to
1 Though Welsh, Itiddell, and Blackadder did not join with the
Cameronians in disowning the authority of the government, yet as
the government not only refused to protect the nonconformists in
hearing the gospel, but sent out the military to disperse, apprehend,
and murder them when so engaged in the fields, they asserted the
lawfulness of carrying arms to field conventicles for self-defence, on
all human laws, and which is in truth a law of God.
2 Mr. George Johnston was, at the Restoration, minister of New-
bottle, from which he was ejected for nonconformity, by the act of
the privy coimcil at Glasgow, 1662. He was a noted field preacher,
but had accepted of the third indulgence granted in the middle of the
year 1679. This accounts for the somewhat disrespectful tone in
which Marion Harvey speaks concerning him in her answer to this
question. " The disaffection between the Cameronians, to which party
she belonged, and those who had accepted the indulgence, was in
truth about equally cordial on both sides. Both parties, as is almost
universally the case in religious controversy, acted very much on
the Zn: talz'onis princip1e,-—-If you disrespect me, I’ll disrespect you.


MARION HARVEY.
137


M. H. “I love my life as well as any of you
do; but will not redeem it upon sinful terms; for
Christ says, ‘He that seeks to save his life shall
lose it.’ ”
Then one of them asked when the jury should
sit? and some other of them answered, “On
Monday.”
I’. C. “ Can you write.”
M. H. “Yes.”
1). C. “ Will you subscribe what you have said?”
M. H. “No.”
They bade the clerk set down that she could write,
but refused to subscribe.
P. C. “Do you desire to converse with one of
your ministers i’ ”
M. H. “What ministers P ”
P. C. “Mr. ltiddell.”
M. H. “I will have none of your ministers.” ‘
For the opinions expressed in these answers, the
government were resolved to take the life of this
inoffensive girl. But as the confession of her hold-
ing such opinions could only become judicial and be
used in judgment against her when made before the
lords of justiciary, she was next, in conformity with
the usual practice, brought before them on the 6th
of December 1680, to undergo a similar examina-
tion. On her being brought before them, and
examined, the answers she gave were substantially
the same as those she had given when examined
before the privy council; and the following is the
substance of her answers, as drawn up by the clerk
of the justiciary court, and subscribed by the lords
as her confession : -
“Edinburgh, 6th December 1680.
“In presence of the lords justice-clerk and com-
missioners of justiciary sitting in judgment, com-
peared Marion Harvey, prisoner, and being examined,
adheres to the fourth article of the Fanatics’ New
Covenant, the same being read to her, and disowns
the king and his authority, and the authority of the
lords of justiciary, and adheres and abides at the
trcasonable declaration emitted at Sanquhar, and
approves of the same, and says it was lawful to kill
the Archbishop of St. Andrews, when the Lord
raised up instruments for that effect, and that he
was as miserable and perjured a wretch as ever
betrayed the Kirk of Scotland: declares that min-
isters brought them up to these principles, and
now they have left them, and that she has heard
Mr. John Welsh and Mr. Riddell preach up these
principles she now owns, and blesses God she ever
heard thempreaeh so, for her soul has been refreshed
by them: She approves of Mr. Cargill’s excom-
municating the king; declares she can write, but
refuses to sign the same. (Sic szrbscri/Jz'lmg)
“ MAITLAND.
“ DAVID BALFOUR.
“JA. FALCONE'R.
“Roenn Hoe.” '
On the sole ground of this confession, an indict-
ment was drawn up against her, and she was brought
to trial on the 17th of January 168]. Tried on
the same indictment with Isabel Alison, she was
charged with the same crimes, (for which see p. 131,)
with the addition that she had “most treasonably
approved of the execrable excommunication used by
Mr. Donald Cargill, against his sacred sovereign at
Torwood, upon the day of [September] last, and
likewise owned and approved of the killing of the
Archbishop of St. Andrews as lawful, declaring that
he was as miserable a wretch as ever betrayed the
Kirk of Scotland.”
Her indictment having been read, she was asked
if she pleaded guilty to the charges it contained,
to which she answered in the affirmative. They
next successively read the Sanquhar Declaration,
and the Queensferry Paper, asking her at the close
of the reading of each paper, if she owned it; to
which she answered that she did. She then pro-
tested before the court, that they had nothing to say
against her as to matter of fact, but only that she
owned Christ and his truth ; to which they made no
reply, but called the jury, who, as we have seen
before, showed considerable reluctance to appear. 2
She offered no objections to any of the jury, but on
their taking their places, she addressed them in these
words: “ Now beware what you are doing, for they
have nothing to say against me, but only for owning
Jesus Christ and his persecuted truths; for you will
get my blood upon your heads.” The court then
proceeded with the evidence against her. But the
only proof which the prosecutor, his majesty’s advo-
cate, could adduce, was her own confession before
the lords of justiciary. This confession, as they had
taken it down, was accordingly read, and being asked
if she adhered to it, she objected to the clause which
represented her as having said that the ministers had
taught her these principles, observing, that what. she
said was, that it was Christ by his Word who taught
her; but she adhered to the rest of her confession
as it was read. The king’s advocate then addressed

1 Cloud of Witnesses, pp. 95-97.

5
‘ Records of the Justiciary Court.
S
2 See p. 132.


138
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



the jury.1 He told them, as has been stated before,2
that much dealing had been employed with her and
Isabel Alison, and that ministers had been sent to
them in prison, to endeavour, if possible, to reclaim
them, but that every effort had proved unavailing.
“We are not concerned with you and your ministers,”
said Marion, sharply. The advocate, turning to her,
replied, “It is not for religion that we are pursuing
you, but for treason.” “ It is for religion that you
are pursuing me,” she instantly retorted; “ and I
am of the same religion that you are all sworn to be
of. I am a true Presbyterian in my judgment.”
On the conclusion of the advocate’s address, the
jury retired for consultation, but soon returned to
court and delivered their verdict, unanimously find-
ing Marion Harvey “guilty, conform to her confes-
sion of adherence to the fourth article of the
Fanatics’ New Covenant, and to the Declaration at
Sanquhar, and to the Bond of Combination; but as
actor and reeeipter of rebels, they find it not proven.”
The lords delayed the pronouncing of the sentence
upon her till Friday at twelve o’clock, being the 21st
of the current month. On the minute of delay being
read, she said, “I charge you before the tribunal of
God, as ye shall answer there ! for ye have nothing
to say against me but for my owning the persecuted
gospel.”
On the 21st, she was again brought before the
court to receive her sentence, which was, that she
“ be taken to the Grassmarket of Edinburgh upon
Wednesday next, the 26th instant, betwixt two and
four o’clock in the afternoon, and there to be hanged
on a gibbet till she be dead, and all her‘ lands,
heritages, goods, and gear whatsomever, to be escheat
and inbrought to our sovereign lord’s use, which was
pronounced for doom.” 3
During the whole of the proceedings now detailed,
Marion betrayed no symptoms of wavering, hesita-
tion, or timidity; and now when her days on earth
were numbered—when she had only five brief days
to live—she maintained to the last her christian
fortitude. The testimony of her conscience that she
had done nothing worthy of death, and that she was
in reality doomed to die on the scaffold for her
adherence to the truths of Christ, was to her a source
of great satisfaction. In her dying testimony which
she left behind her, dated “from the Tolbooth of
Edinburgh, the Woman House on the. east side of the
prison, January 21st, 1681,” she begins as follows :—
“ Christian Friends and Acquaintances,—I being to
lay down my life on Wednesday next, January 26, I

1 See Notice of Isabel Alison, p. 132. 2 Ibid.
3 Records of the Justiciary Court. Cloud of Witnesses, p. 97.

thought fit to let it be known to the world where-
fore I lay down my life -, and to let it be seen that
I die not as a fool, or an evil-deer, or as a busy-body
in other men’s matters. No; it is for adhering to
the truths of Jesus Christ, and avowing him to be
King in Zion, and head of his Church; and the
testimony against the ungodly laws of men, and their
robbing Christ of his rights, and usurping his pre-
rogative royal, which I durst not but testify against.”
Nor was she deprived of those heavenly consola-
tions which have so often sustained the soul of the
martyr, and made him triumph over death. The
presence of a reconciled God, and the peace and
comfort which he spoke to her soul, divested death
of its terrors, and inspired her with a holy willing-
ness and cheerfulness to surrender her life, in testi-
mony of her love to him and his cause. “ I
desire,” says she, in the same document, “to bless
and magnify the Lord for my lot, and may say, he
hath brought me to the wilderness to allure me
there, and speak comfortably to my soul. It was
but little of-- him I knew when I came to prison;
but now he has said to me, Because he lives I shall
live also. And he has told me, I am he that
blotteth out thine iniquity for my own name’s sake.
Kind has he been to me since he brought me out
to witness for him. I have never sought any thing
from him that was for his glory, since I came to
prison, but he granted me my desire. For the
most part, I have found him in every thing that
hath come in my way, ordering it himself for his
own glory. And now I bless him, that thoughts of
death are not terrible to me. He hath made me as
willing to lay down my life for him as ever I was
willing to live in the world. And now, ye that are
his witnesses, be not afraid to venture on the cross
of Christ, for his yoke is easy and his burden light.
For many times I have been made to think strange
what makes folk cast at the cross of Christ, that hath
been so light to me that I have found no burden of
it at all; he bore me and it both. Now let not the
frowns of men, nor their flatteries, put you from
your duty. It is my grief that I have
not been more faithful for my master, Christ. All
his dealings with me have been in love and in mercy.
His corrections have been all in ‘love and free grace.
0 free love! I may say I am a brand plucked out
of the fire; I am a limb of the devil plucked out
from his fireside. O! I am made to wonder and
admire at his condescending love.” And she eon-
cludes with these words: “Now farewell lovely and
sweet Scriptures, which were aye my comfort in the
midst of all my difliculties! farewell faith! farewell
hope! farewell Wanderers, who have been comfortable




MARION
HARVEY. 189






to my soul, in the hearing of them commend Christ’s
love! Farewell brethren! farewell sisters! fare-
well christian acquaintances! farewell su'n, moon,
and stars I And now welcome my lovely and heart-
some Christ Jesus, into whose hands I commit my
spirit throughout all eternity. I may say, few and
evil have the days of the years of my pilgrimage
been, I being about twenty years of age.” 1
There is one thing in the dying testimony of this
\ female which we could wish had been modified, and
that is the paragraph in which she leaves her blood
upon the tyrant on the throne, upon the Duke of
York, who was sitting in the council the first day
on which she was examined, and upon all others
who were concerned in her death, whom she parti-
cularly names. This was done by others of the
Cameronian martyrs; and it was done, we believe,
not in a spirit of revenge, but simply to impress, if
possible, upon their murderers a conviction of their
guilt, and to awaken them to repentance.2 In proof
of this, we may quote the testimony of a very intel-
ligent gentleman, who had opportunities of being
very much among the Cameronian party who suffered
between the years 1680 and 1685, and who conversed
with most, if not all, who suffered till August 1685—
that of Mr. Gray of Chryston; and his testimony is
the more valuable from his having belonged, not to the
Cam eronians, but to the Moderate Presbyterians. In
a letter to I/Vodrow, he says, “As to their leaving their
blood upon their enemies in general, or upon parti-
cular persons accessory to their trouble, I could
never understand that they meant more by it than the
fastening a conviction upon a brutish persecuting
generation, who vainly justified themselves as acting
by law, and inferred that not they, but the legisla-
ture, were answerable, if any injustice was done.” 3
This explains the ground upon which Marion Har-
vey and others left their blood upon their persecu-
tors, and it amply vindicates them from acting under
the impulse of a revengeful spirit. Something more,
however, is required of the Christian than the mere
absence of revenge towards his enemies ; he is bound
from the heart to forgive them. We do not aflirn'i
that this female martyr, and other Cameronian
martyrs, did not forgive their persecutors. We are
persuaded of the contrary. They knew the New
Testament too well not to know that the forgiveness
of enemies is an imperative christian duty, and
they possessed too much of the christian spirit not

1 Cloud of Witnesses, pp. 98-101.
2 The words of J creniiah, in his address to the princes of Judah
chap. xxvi 15), have been adduced in vindication of these martyrs
on this head.
5 \Yodrow's llistory, voL iii., p. 214-.
to exercise it. But they erred in not being sufli.
ciently forward to express this feeling, and in not
giving it prominence in their dying testimonies. If,
instead of the clause to which we are now objecting,
they had substituted a clause cordially forgiving
their persecutors, it would have been more in har-
mony with the precepts of the New Testament, and
it would have been more like Jesus, who, on the
cross, showed how intensely forgiving his heart was
j when he prayed his holy Father to forgive his mur-
‘ derers, and urged in their behalf the only extenuating
plea of which their crime admitted—“ Father, for-
give them, for they know not what they do.” Nor
is it unworthy of notice, that had they taken this
course, they would have deprived their enemies of
an occasion which they eagerly laid hold on, and
over which they gloated, of charging them, falsely
indeed, but still with some degree of colour, of being
baited into savagcness and stubbornness, of being
actuated by vindictive feelings, and of mistaking
these feelings for emotions of piety.
On the day of her execution, Marion not only
‘retained her composure, but experienced the utmost
joy in the anticipation of future felicity. When
coming out of the tolbooth door to go to the council
house, whence she was to be conducted to the place
of execution, she said, to some friends attending
her, in a tone of heavenly joy and ecstacy, at once
surprising and delightful to them, “ Behold, I hear
my beloved saying unto me, Arise, my love, my fair
one, and come away.” In the council house, a base
and heartless attempt was made, by Bishop Pater-
son, to disturb her tranquillity, and the tranquillity
of her fellow-sufferer in the same cause, Isabel
Alison. This man, who had an active hand in
bringing them to the scaffold, and who, with a
meanness and wanton cruelty worthy of a perse-
cutor, had brought a curate with him to the council
house, for the express purpose of annoying them,
said to Marion I-Iarvey, “Marion, you said you
would never hear a curate, now you shall be forced
to hear one ; ” upon which he called on the curate
to pray. This cruel insult, offered to them when
placed in circumstances calculated to excite the
deepest commiseration, was met by the sufferers with
becoming spirit. They made no reply to the bishop,
but as soon as the curate began to pray, Marion
said to her fellow-martyr, “Come, Isabel, let us
sing the 23d Psalm,” which they accordingly did—-
Marion repeating the psalm line by line without
book — which drowned the curate’s voice, and

v confounded both him and the bishop. When they
were brought to the scaffold, a second attempt
was made to harass their feelings and disturb



TIIE LADIES CF THlt‘ COVENANT.



their composure in their last moments, by one of
the prelatic curates of the city, who came to pray
with the five women condemned to be executed at
the same time for child-murder. This man, who
appears to have had neither correct views of reli-
gion, nor humane feelings, flattered these five mur-
derers with the hope of heaven, though they had
given no evidence of repentance, while he vehe-
mently railed on our two martyrs, and remorselessly
told them that they were on the road to damnation.
But they remained unmoved; “the peace of God,
which passeth all understanding, kept their hearts
and minds through Christ Jesus.” On the scaffold,
Marion sung the 84th Psalm, and read the 3d chap-
ter of lllalachi; after which she shortly addressed
the vast crowd of spectators. “I am come here
to-day,” she said, “ for avowing Christ to be head of
his Church, and King in Zion. 0 seek him, sirs!
seek him, and ye shall find him; I sought him
and found him; I held him and would not let him
go.” Then she briefly narrated the manner in which
she was apprehended, and the leading questions put
to her by the privy council, with the answers she
returned. “They asked me if I adhered to the
papers gotten at the Ferry? I said I did own
them, and all the rest of Christ’s truths. If I
would have denied any of them, my life was in my
offer; but I durst not do it, no, not for my soul.
Ere I wanted an hour of his presence, I had rather
die ten deaths. I durst not speak against him, lest I
should have sinned against God. I adhere to the Bible,
and Confession of Faith, Catechisms, and Covenants,
which are according to this Bible.” But, in her
dying speech, she chiefly spoke of God’s love to her,
and in commendation of free grace. “Much of the
Lord’s presence,” said she, “have I enjoyed in pri-
son; and now I bless the Lord the snare is broken,
and we are escaped.” When she came to the foot
of the ladder, she engaged in prayer; and, on going
up the ladder, she exclaimed, “ O my fair one, my
lovely one, come away; ” and sitting down upon it,
she said, “ I am not come here for murder, for they
have no matter of fact to charge me with, but only


my judgment. I am about twenty years of age; at
fourteen or fifteen I was a bearer of the curates, and
indulged; and while I was a hearer of these, I was a
blasphemer and Sabbath-breaker, and a chapter of
the Bible was a burden to me; but since I heard
this persecuted gospel, I durst not blaspheme nor
break the Sabbath, and the Bible became my
delight.” These were her last words; for on her
having uttered them, the hangman, at the orders
of the provost, cast her over. Her body, as a mark
of reprobation, was buried, it is probable, in the
Grcyfriars’ churchyard, Edinburgh, along with the
body of her fellow-martyr, Isabel Alison,I in the
spot appropriated as a burying-place for the most
flagrant criminals; but whatever indignities were
put upon her mortal part, her spirit, brought out
of great tribulation, was, doubtless, put in posses-
sion of that exceeding great reward reserved for
those who “overcome by the blood of the Lamb,
and by the word of their testimony, and who love
not their lives unto the death.”
1The following notices of Marion Harvey and Isabel Alison,
written by a contemporary belonging to the government party, may
be interesting to the reader :—“ 26th January 1681. There were
hanged at Edinburgh two women of ordinary rank, for their utter-
ing treasonable words, and other principles and opinions contrary to
all our government; the one was named Janet [Isabel] Alison, a
Perth woman, the other [Marion] Hervey, from Borrowstounness ;
they were of Cameron’s faction, bigot and sworn enemies to the king
and the bishops; of the same stamp with Rathillet, Skene, Stewart,
and Potter; of whom supra, p. 4 et seq, where we debate how far
men (for women are scarce to be honoured with that martyrdom, as
they think it) are to be punished capitally for their bare perverse
judgment without acting. Some thought the threatening to drown
them privately in the North Loch, without giving them the credit of
a public suffering, would have more effectually reclaimed them nor
any arguments which were used; and the bringing them to a seaf-
fold but disseminates the infection. However, the women proved
very obstinate, and for all the pains taken, would not once
acknowledge the king to be their lawful prince, but called him a
perjured bloody man. At the stage, one of them told so long as
she followed and heard the curates, she was a swearer, Sabbath-
breaker, and with much aversion read the Scriptures, but found
much joy upon her spirit since she followed the eonventicle preachers.
There were five other miserable women executed with them, for
int-ant murder. See with what wonderful patience most execrable
heretics suffer in Bakcr’s Chronicle, in the reign of King Henry the
2d, p. 58, and of Henry the 3d, p. b‘JP—Fountainhall’s Historical
Observes, pp. 26, 27‘






HELEN JOHNSTON, LADY GRADEN.

HELEN JonNs'roN was the daughter of the well-
known Sir Archibald Johnston, Lord 1V arriston,
who acted so prominent a part in the civil and
ecclesiastical transactions of his day, and who at last
fell a martyr to the cause of civil and religious free-
dom. Lord Warriston was not less distinguished
for personal piety than for public patriotism. An
anecdote, which strikingly illustrates how complete] y,
in the exercise of prayer, his mind was abstracted
from surrounding objects, and concentrated on the
great object of religious worship, has been preserved
by Wodrow. “Mrs. Lilias Stewart,” says that
indefatigable memorialist, “tells me that my Lord
VVarriston was very frequently in her father’s house,
Sir James Stewart’s; and when he came before
dinner, he [Sir James] usually desired him to pray
in the family, and he made no more ceremony to do
it than one minister would do in another’s house.
That it was remarked of him, that in prayer he was
the most staid, and swallowed up in the work, of any
man in his time. He heard or noticed nothing when
praying. One day in his family, his lady being
indisposed, she fell into a swarff ‘ in the room beside
him, and continued some time in it; and the servants
observing [it], lifted her up, and laid her in bed.
All this was done beside him, and he knew nothing
of it till all was over and duty ended.” 2 Like the
Marquis of Argyll, he may be said to have fallen a
victim to the revenge of Charles II., who never
forgave him for the fidelity with which, on one
occasion, he reproved him for his vices. IVriting
in January 1713, IVodrow says, “My author
[Mr. James Stirling, minister of Barony parish,
Glasgow] has it from Mr. Oliphant, who was my
Lord IVarriston’s chaplain at the time, that one day
he told Mr. Oliphant he was going to use freedom
with the king. Mr. Oliphant dissuaded him from
it, but he took his cloak about him and went away,
and did use freedom with him. The king seemed
to take all well, and gave him very good words,
calling him ‘good Lord Warriston,’ but bore a
rooted grudge at him after that, and prosecuted it
to his death.”3 His enemies, like bloodhounds,
dogged his footsteps on the Continent, and succeed-
ing in their object, brought him home, to be tried,

, 1 i.e., a swoon or fainting fit.
2 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. ii., p. 135. 3 Ibid., vol. ii., p. 145.

condemned, and executed as a traitor. “ His natural
temper was just, generous, self-denying; insomuch
that he left behind him but a very small provision
for a family of thirteen children, though for many
years he had been intrusted with the whole govern-
ment of Scotlant .” 1
Thus the subject of this notice enjoyed the inesti-
mable blessing of a sound Christian education, and
of a holy example under her father’s roof. From
her cradle, she had been surrounded with the genial
influences of piety, as well as trained to the love of
liberty. IVith the principles of the second Re forma'
tion church, all her feelings and early associations
were inseparably linked. The summary overthrow
of the Presbyterian church by the government of
Charles II., and the grinding oppression by which
it was attempted to force the consciences of men
and women to act in matters of religion in con-
formity with the wishes of the monarch, she could
not then, with such impressions and sentiments, but
regard with aversion and distrust. And this aver-
sion and distrust must have been aggravated from
the relentless cruelty with which, from the mo-
ment of the Restoration, her father was perse-
cuted, till he was put to death as a traitor 011 the
scaffold.
In the summer of 1659, Miss Johnston was mar
ried to Mr. George Hume or Home, proprietor of
an estate called Graden, in the south of Scotland.2
Hence, according-to the courtesy of those times, he
was generally called Graden, and his wife Lady
Gradcn. Their marriage contract is dated 10th
May 1059. In this contract, made with consent of
several persons therein specified on both sides,
Mr. Hume, “in contemplation of the marriage then
contracted, bound and obliged himself, his heirs,
executors, and successors, to provide and secure the
said Helen Johnston, his future spouse, during all
the days of her life time (in case she should sur-
vive him), in the sum of 2000 merks Scots 3 yearly,

1 Life of Bishop Burnet, by his Son, in Burnet’s History of His
Own Times, vol. vi., p. 235. The Bishop’s mother was sister to Lord
Warriston. His father was an Episcopalian, but “ his mother, who
was very eminent for her piety and virtue, was a warm zealot for
the Presbyterian discipline; her education that way had been very
strict.”—1bid.
2 In Acts of Scottish Parliament, vol. vi., p. S5, he is designated
j “ an heritor of the parish of Earlston.”
3 i.e., about 11 ll. sterling.


1442 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



free of all burdens whatsoever, and that out of the
first and readiest of his fortunes.” '
Mr. Hume, like his wife, was a warm supporter of
the principles of the Covenanters, and also suffered
in their defence. In 1678, being in Northumberland,
he was made prisoner in Crockome, a village upon
the English border, by a party of English soldiers
who were in search of Scottish nonconformists,
several of whom had taken shelter from persecution
in Northumberland. He was carried first to Lord
Hume, and thence to Hume Castle. His apprehen-
sion was the occasion of the scuffle in which Thomas '
Ker of Heyhope (whose elegy was written by Colonel
IVilliam Cleland, and is ‘inserted in Naphtali) was
killed by Colonel Struthers’ party.2 How long he
was kept prisoner is uncertain. We, however, find
him among the insurgents at Bothwell Bridge in
J one 1679.3 His name appears in a list of persons
who had been “ in the late rebellion,” contained in
a proclamation of the privy council, dated June 26,
discharging all his majesty’s subjects, whether men
or women, to assist, harbour, reset, correspond with,
hide or conceal the said rebels and traitors, under
the pain of treason.4 He did not long survive,
having died in October that year. 5
It was not till 1684:, when nearly twenty-four
years of misrule and oppression had passed over our
ill-fated country, that we meet with the name of
Lady Graden as a sufferer in the cause of Presbytery.
But there is no reason to believe that she had not
at an earlier period become obnoxious to the govern-
ment, on account of her religious principles. The
severity with which she was then treated, seems
rather like the punishment inflicted on an old
offender, than the punishment inflicted on one who
had offended only for the first time. The primary
instrument of her oppression was Henry Ker of
Craden, who, in 1684, held the o'lfice of sheriff- depute
of Teviotdale, and who recklessly imposed the
most exorbitant fines on such gentlemen and ladies
in his bounds as patronized the cause of noncon-
formity.6 By this unscrupulous man she was fined

in twenty-six thousand and odd pounds Scots,l as
we learn from the Report of the Committee for
Public Affairs given in to the council, September
10, 1684. In that report, it is also stated that he
had fined Lady Greenheadf in the sum of sixteen
thousand and odd pounds Scots,3 but that the
committee found reason to sist execution as to her.
The council approved of the report.5 The decreet
against Lady Graden not having been preserved, we

I are unable precisely to state the charges against her
which it contained; but we cannot be far from the
truth in supposing that, like the decreets against
ladies in similar circumstances, it charged her with
deserting the public ordinances in her own parish
church, with haunting and frequenting rebellious field
conventicles, with harbouring and resetting rebels,
&c., to the great scandal of religion and contempt
of the government. As the fine imposed upon her,
and with the approbation of the government, was
a very heavy one, much heavier than that imposed
upon Lady Greenhead, or indeed upon any other
person in that part of the country, it is evident that
she was a marked person ; and there is little doubt
that this severity was prompted by the malignant
hatred which these wicked rulers cherished towards
the memory of her father. As James VI. believed,
that in the whole race of the Knoxes and Welshes
there lived the germ of enmity to bishops, so the
persecutors, during the reigns of his grandsons, seem
to have equally believed, that the essence of Presby-
teryi'had been so concentrated in Archibald Johnston
of Warriston, as to taint with an inveterate hostility
to prelacy the whole of his race.
But our chief object in introducing this lady to
the notice of the reader is, to give a specimen of

1 Commissary Records of Edinburgh, 16th December 169]. Mr.
Hume was a man of very considerable wealth. At the time of his
death, the debts owing to him were 121,3(12l. 5.9. 10d. Scots; and
his free gear, the debts due by himself being deducted, was 105,302l.
Scots.
2 See Appendix, no. vii.
3 M‘Crie’s Memoirs of Veitch, 81.0., p. 463.
4 Wodrow’s History, vol. iii., p. 115.
5 Commissary Records of Edinburgh, 16th December 1691. ,
6 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 52. So reckless was he in imposing
fines, that even the government, rapacious as it was, found it neces-
sary, from the complaints made against him, to institute inquiries
as to his proceedings. On the 7th of November 1684, the privy
council ordained one of their clerks, Mr. Colin M‘Kenzie, to write
to him the following letter, summoning him to appear before them:
—“ Sir,-'l‘herc having been several suspensions, diligences, and
petitions given in to the council, by persons fined by you as sherifl-
(leputc of Roxburgh, and the council finding it necessary, before
they proceed to consider thereof, that you be present to vindicate
your procedure, there being very much alleged against the legality
thereof, and which they have reason the rather to suspect, since you,
being cited to have colnpeared before them, have neglected so to do 5
and therefore they have commanded me to require you, in their name,
to attend them upon the first Thursday of December next peremptory,
and to bring along with you the decreets and sentences pronounced
by you against persons within your shire guilty of irregularities and
disorders, and the grounds and warrants thereof; as also your pro-
curator-fiscal, clerk, and oflicers of court, or any other executors of
your summonses, precepts, or warnings, to be considered by the
council, and herein you are not to fail, as you will be answerable at
your periL—I am, y01n~ affectionate friend and servant, (Sic sub.)
Colin M‘Kenzie.”—Register of Acts of Privy Council.
1 i.e., 21661. 18s. 4d. and odds, Sterling.
2 The lady of Sir William Ker of Greenhead.
3 i.e., 13331. 6s. 8d. and odds, Sterling.
4Execution was sisted as to her in consequence of a petition
which her husband, Sir William Ker, presented to the council, desir-
ing that as “ the decreet was pronounced in absence, and that the
sum is very exorbitant, his lady might be rcponed to her oath, and
1 execution, in the meantime, sisted.”—llegister of Acts of Privy
j Council, 10th September 1684?.
i 5 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 52.




LADY GRADEN.
143




the Christian sympathy and heroism which ladies
often displayed in those trying times, under the
sufferings of their near and dear relatives, in the
cause of religion and liberty. The part which she
acted towards Robert Baillie of Jerviswood, who
was her cousin-german, and also her brother-in-law,i
during his sickness when in prison, and at the time
of his trial and execution, is worthy of all praise.
Robert Baillie of J erviswood, than whom the
martyrology of the persecution does not embrace
a more excellent man, was descended on the
mother’s side from our illustrious Reformer, John
Knox, his mother having been the grand-daughter
of the Reformer.2 From boyhood he had expe-
rienced the power of religion. He had been heard
to say, that God had begun to work upon him
when he was about ten years of age, and that
Christ crucified had been his daily study and con-
stant delight. To great natural parts, extensive
information, and dignity of manner, he added gentle-
ness of disposition and calm benevolence, combined
with warm zeal for the Protestant religion, and
incorruptible integrity.3 By the unprincipled govern—
ment of his day, he had all along been regarded with
suspicion and distrust, and at last they found a
pretext for taking away his life. Being in London
at the time of the discovery of the Rye House Plot
in 1683,4 he and several other Scotch gentlemen at
London were made prisoners on suspicion of being
concerned in that plot. Baillie had indeed attended
some meetings held in London, by several English
and Scotch patriots of rank and influence, for the
purpose of concerting measures for delivering their


country from tyranny, and preventing the Duke of
York, who was a professed papist, from succeeding
to the throne, in the event of his brother’s death;
but he never dreamed of accomplishing this end,
desirable as it was, by murdering the king and the
Duke of York, which was‘ falsely given out by the
government as the great object of these meetings.1
He and his Scotch fellow-prisoners? were, in the
end of October 1683, sent down from London to
Scotland; and on their arrival at Leith, they were
conducted to the tolbooth of Edinburgh. Baillie
continued to languish in prison, till, being tried for
high treason, he was brought in guilty by a packed
jury, and condemned to the gallows.
It was during these, his last sufferings, that Lady
Graden displayed, in the part which she acted towards
Baillie, whom she highly respected and honoured for
the excellence of his Christian character, that active
sympathy, that self-sacrificing spirit, and that noble
heroism, to which we have referred. For a consider-
able period previous to his martyrdom, his rigorous
imprisonment had so undermined his health that he
was, to all appearance, in a dying condition. In
these circumstances, he found in this lady a friend
indeed. To her he owed that solace and support
which kind and unremitting attentions administer
under the pain, anxiety, langour, and fears, which
always attend sickness; and which would especially
attend it in his case, when he was confined to a
prison, and when his life was thirsted after by the
unrelenting malice of his enemies. It was about
the month of July 1684:, that his illness assumed a
dangerous form. To his lady and friends, this was
a cause of great anxiety and alarm. It would have
been highly gratifying to her had she been allowed
to remove him for a time to her own chambers; but,
though disease was apparently hurrying him to the
grave, she could not prevail upon the lords of the
privy council to listen so far to the voice of pity as
relentingly to allow him to be removed from prison;
for they were determined not to forego their hold
of a victim whom they so deeply hated, and whose
valuable estate would, when forfeited, be so rich
a prize. Being then unable to obtain for him
a temporary release, she was very desirous that, in

1 Baillie’s mother was sister to Lord Warriston, and he was mar-
ried to one of Lord Warriston’s daughters. His wife was a lady
worthy of her lineage. Some ascribed his disaffection to the govern-
ment to her influence over him. “His marrying Johnston 01"
W arriston’s daughter,” says Fountainhall, “ first alienated his mind
from the governmentP—Historical Notices, vol. ii., p. 594. It may
here be stated that Baillie had a sister who was married to the
celebrated Mr. Andrew Gray, son to Sir William Gray, Lord Provost
of Edinburgh, and minister of the Outer High Church, Glasgow.
Mr. Gray was licensed 1653, ordained on the 3d of November that
year, and died in J annary 1656. His relict afterwards becamethe
wife of Mr. George Hutchison, one of the ministers of Edinburgh
at the Restoration, and afterwards indulged minister at Irvine.
Baillie had another sister who was married to Mr. James Kirkton,
one of the ministers of Edinburgh after the Revolution—“admires
Analecta, vol. i., p. 168.
2 M‘Crie’s Life of Knox, 5th edition, vol. ii., pp. 356, 357.
3Wodrow says that he “had a sort of majesty in his face and
stateliness in his carriage.”—Analecta, vol. iii., p. 7 8.
4 He had gone up to London on the business of the Carolina
settlement. A number of Scottish gentlemen having, in consequence
of the intolerable oppression at home, projected a settlement in
Carolina in America, where such of their countrymen as chose to
emigrate might enjoy that freedom of conscience which there was
no prospect of their enjoying in Scotland, they sent commissioners
to London, among whom was Baillie, in the close of the year 1682,
to deal with the government about that matter.
1 Baillie and his Scotch friends had, in fact, broken off all connec-
tion with the English conspirators before the conspiracy was dis-
covered, convinced that from the want of unity of views, spirit, and
decision, it could not succeed; nor had they ever matured any plan
of their own.—Carstares’ State Papers, pp. 10—14.
’~’ These were,-—Sir Hugh Campbell of Cesnock and Sir George
Campbell, his son; Sir William Muir of Rowallan andWilliam Muir,
his son; John Crawford of Crawfordland; William Fairly of Brunts-
field; Alexander .\Ionro of Beancrofts ; William Spence; Robert
Murray; John Hepburn; William Carstares—Register of Acts of
Prim; Council, 5th November 1653.



141% THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.



his present condition, he might have a constant
attendant in prison. Gladly would she have devoted
herself, with all the tenderness of her faithful heart,
to the office of nursing him in his sickness; and her
presence would, doubtless, have been more agreeable
to him than that of any other friend. But for this
office the infirm state of her own health unfitted
her. Her sister, Lady Graden, however, a woman
of active habits, and of a generous and exalted
mind, engaged, with the greatest pleasure, should
the privy council grant permission, to attend the
sick bed of her cousin and brother-in-law. Accord-
ingly, she presented a petition to the council, praying
that this permission might be granted her. The
council, upon inquiry, finding that Baillie was dan-
gerously ill, allowed her, in answer to her petition,
to attend him, on condition of her remaining a close
prisoner with him. The act of council
follows :—-
is as
“Edinburgh, 14th August 1682i‘.
“ The lords of his majesty’s privy council having
considered an address made by Helen Johnston, Lady
Graden, supplicating that she might be made close
prisoner with the Laird of Jerviswood, to wait upon
him, he being at present in a sick and dangerous
condition, with the report of the lord president of
the session, and justice-clerk, who were ordered to
visit him, bearing that they found him in a very
dangerous and sickly condition, do allow the said
Lady Graden to be close prisoner with the said
.Ierviswood, and appoint a macer of council to take
her immediately to that room within the prison of
Edinburgh, where the said Jerviswood is now
prisoner, and appoint the keepers of the tolbooth
before she enter the said room, to take narrow
inspection that she have no letters or papers upon
her body; and if she have, that they secure the same;
and after she has entered the said room, ordain the
foresaid keepers to keep her close prisoner therein,
in the same way and manner that the said Jervis-
wood was ordered to be kept, in every respect, until
the council further order, as they will be answerable
at their highest peril.” ’
To these restrictions Lady Graden gladly sub-
mitted, that she might minister to the comfort of her
friend. Over his sick bed she watched with the
most affectionate and assiduous care, administering
to him those comforts which his situation required;
and nothing which warm sympathy and overflowing
kindness could suggest, was wanting to alleviate his

_‘
distress. Lady Jerviswood, though unable, as we
have said, from the delicate state of her health, to
undertake the entire charge of attending him, was
desirous of being occasionally allowed to visit him.
She accordingly presented a petition to the privy
council, praying that this favour might be granted
her; and the council, at their meeting on the 18th
of August, “ allow her to have access to her husband
with any of the physicians who are to visit him, and
to stay in the room with him so long as the physi-
cians stay, and no longer, during which stay she
is not to utter or speak any thing but in audience of
the physicians present.”1 It would appear that,
some short time after, she was allowed to remain
constantly with him in the prison, subject to the
same stringent rules as her sister Lady Graden,
though this permission continued only for a brief
period.2
While thus enjoying the society of his wife and
of his sister-in-law, the cup of Baillie’s affliction was
greatly sweetened. Not only was his every wish
anticipated, and his sickness alleviated by the gentle
language and engaging offices of love; but his inter-
course with these beloved friends was, from the con-
geniality of their minds, sanctified and endeared by
religion, in which all of them sought and found their
greatest enjoyment, and their most effectual solace
under all their afflictions. His confinement and
sickness were thus deprived of more than half their
bitterness, and surrounded by his nearest and best-
beloved relations, he felt that his prison was in some
measure like home. But his sister-in-law had not
been with him much above three weeks, and his lady
not so long, when the privy council issue orders for
their being removed from him. The act of council
is as follows :—
“ Edinburgh, 10th September 16841.
“ Whereas the lords of his majesty’s privy council
were formerly pleased to allow Mr. Robert Baillie
of Jerviswood’s wife, and the Lady Graden, to be close
prisoners in the room with him, he being then under
some indisposition of body, they have now thought
fit that they be removed from him, and he continued
close prisoner by himself as formerly; and therefore
do hereby require the keepers of the tolbooth of
Edinburgh, forthwith to remove the said Lady J ervis-
wood and the Lady Graden forth of the room where
they are now close prisoners with the said Jerviswood,


1 Decreets of Privy Council.
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
2On the 30th of August the council also allowed Baillie’s advo-
cates and friends to have free access to him until Thursday, and
granted warrants to the keepers of the tolbooth for that effect, they
being always answerable for the safe custody of his person—-
Register of Acts of Privy Council.



LADY GRADEN.
14+?)


Y
and to keep him close prisoner, and not to suffer them
or any other person to have access to, or converse
with, or speak to him, till further order, as they
will be answerable.” ‘ -
On the removal of these dear friends, Baillie
continued alone in prison for nearly two months.
His recovery had been very partial, and from the want
of their kind attentions, and as the cold weather
set in, his bodily illness greatly increased, and
assumed so dangerous a form as to render it indis-
pensable for him to have a constant attendant. His
own lady would again willingly have shared in his
imprisonment and ministered to him ; but the infirm
state of her health rendered it impossible for her to
undergo the confinement and fatigue, to which, in
the performance of such duties, she would have been
subjected. But her sister, Lady Graden, was ready
as cheerfully as ever to supply her place, should
permission be granted her by the privy council.
Accordingly, Lady Jerviswood presented a petition
to the council, “ in name and behalf of her husband,
showing, that the council was graciously pleased,
upon application made by the supplicant, to allow
K.-
Lady Graden reading to Robert Baillie in Prison.
to attend him till his death. And not only by her
presence did she relieve the tedious hours of his
confinement, but consoled him under his sufferings, ‘
by suggesting to his mind the promises and hopes i


her sister [Lady Graden] to wait upon her husband
in regard of his dangerous and sick condition, and
ever since her coming from him, no person is suffered
to visit or speak to him, save the keeper that takes
in his necessaries, and therefore humbly supplicating,
that, in consideration of the premises, and of the
supplieant’s husband being so tender and unwell
that he cannot rise from bed, and of the cold-
ness of the weather, and other things that attend
sickness and weakness, the council, out of their
clemency and tender compassion, would allow the
supplieant’s sister, or niece, to attend him, the
supplicant herself being so tender that she cannot.”
The lords of council having considered this petition
at their meeting on the 6th of November, “allow
Helen Johnston, Lady Graden, the petitioner’s sister,
to be made close prisoner with Jerviswood for
waiting on him, he being very valetudinary, the
keepers of the tolbooth being always answerable
for their safe custody, and that the said lady shall
not go out of the room where the said Jervis-
wood is close prisoner, without order from the
council.” 1
Lady Graden now continued without intermission

of the gospel, and especially by reading to him from
the Book of God its divine lessons of instruction
and comfort, to which the dying martyr listened
with that intensity of interest which the near pro

l
1Register of Acts of Privy Council‘ I
1 Register of Acts of Privy Council.
T


146 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.



spect of death and eternity so powerfully tends to
inspire. Nor, though those days and nights that
she watched over him were in some respects days
and nights of sadness, could she fail to be comforted
and edified by the heavenly spirit which be displayed
—in witnessing the patience and joy with which he
bore his afflictions, in the certain hope of having
them more than compensated by the eternal glories
of a better world.
Lady Graden accompanied Baillie from the prison
to the bar on the day of his trial, which was on the
23d of December; and, taking her place beside him,
she watched over him during the whole of the trial,
which lasted from eleven o’clock in the forenoon till
past midnight. “ He was so unwell and weak,”
says IVodrow, “that when he was in the pannel, ’
his sister-in-law, Lady Graden, behoved to be with
him in the pannel, and gave him some cordial now
and then to support him.” 2 To the lengthened pro-
ceedings she would listen with painful and melan-
choly interest. Sir George M‘Kenzie’s “ most
bloody and severe speech” to the jury, as Wodrow
characterizes it, would, doubtless, create in her mind
more poignant sensations than any thing else she
heard on that day; nor can we well describe her
feelings when he cast it up to Baillie as a reproach
——what he felt to be and what really was an honour
to him—that he was the nephew and son-in-law of
her venerated father, Lord Warriston. The lord
advocate’s speech being concluded, and Baillie hav-
ing spoken a few words, his great weakness render-
ing him unable to say much, the jury, it being then
so late, were ordered to bring in their verdict to-
morrow by nine o’clock, and the court dismissed.
Lady Graden accompanied him from the bar to the
prison, where she still continued to watch over him
and to minister to his comfort.
But her assiduous and soothing attentions to him
she had not now long to perform. On the following
day, about ten o’clock, being brought from the pri-
son to the bar of the justiciary court, he was sen-
tenced to be hanged that day (Dec. 24) at the
market cross of Edinburgh, betwixt two, and four
o’clock in the afternoon, and his head to be cut off,
and his body to be quartered: his head to be affixed
upon the Nether Bow Port of Edinburgh ; one leg
to be aflixed on the tolbooth of Jedburgh (where
the greatest part of his estate lay); and another
leg to be affixed on the tolbooth of Lanark (near to
which his house of J erviswood lay) ; another member
to be affixed on the tolbooth of Ayr; and another
on the tolbooth of Glasgow; his name, fame,

I i.e., “in the dock,” or as panel at the bar.
2 Wodrcw’s Analecta, vol. iii., p. 78.

memory, and honours, to be extinct; and his blood
to be tainted, &c. 1
It is highly probable that on that day, as on the
day of the trial, Lady Graden attended him to the
court, and that, with panting breast ‘and bitter agony
of spirit, she heard the sentence of death pronounced
upon him. She returned with him again to the
prison, resolved to minister to his comfort, as far
as in her power, to the last. The scene through
which she had now to pass, as well as the scenes
through which she had already passed, would have
been too much for many female minds. Their forti-
tude would have abandoned them; and, robbed of all
power of acting, they would have resigned them-
selves to the dominion of uncontrollable anguish.
It was different with Lady Graden. On this trying
occasion she was greatly supported. Her friend
had now only a few hours to live; but it was
solacing to her to witness his fortitude, resignation,
and heavenly joy; to know that, though feeble in
body, he was not infirm of soul; that no terror was
upon it; that there was no faltering of his inward
strength, but that his trust was firm in God. It
afforded her satisfaction, though a painful satisfac—
tion, to listen to the last prayers, so full of fervent
devotion and of triumphant faith, that proceeded
from his dying lips, and to hear him give expression
to the heavenly rapture which filled his soul in
prospect of eternity. “When he was brought in
to the prison [after receiving his sentence], he fell
over into the bed, where he broke forth into a most
wonderful prayer. He seemed to be in a rapture.
There seemed to be a shining majesty in his face;
the tears abundantly trickling down from his eyes.
He spoke like one in heaven; he showed what
great and wonderful joy would be at the meeting of
the saints with the Lord, and with one another. He
said God had begun the good work in him; he had
carried it on, and now he was putting the copestone
upon it, and now he had received a wonderful
cordial : that within a few hours he would be inex-
pressibly, beyond conception, well. He
said in his prayer that he was to be made a sacri-
fice ; he prayed it might be an acceptable sacrifice
to God, and that his death might put a merciful
stop to their cruel shedding of the blood of his
people.” 2 To such utterances as these, she could
not listen without being convinced that God was
present with him of a truth; that the Divine strength
was made perfect in his weakness, and that He, who
now so mercifully sustained him, would continue to
sustain him to the end.

1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iii., p. 78-80. Wodrow’s History, vol.
iv., p. 110. 2 Wodrow’s Analceta, vol. iii., pp. 78-80.


LADY GRADEN.
1417




The time appointed for Baillie’s execution soon
arrived. Owing to his sickness, he was carried in a
chair to the scaffold. On coming out of the chair,
he was so weak as to be unable, without assistance,
to go up the ladder. He wore his night-gown.
Lady Graden accompanied him from the prison to
the scaffold. On their way to it, they passed the
house of her father; and, in passing it, Baillie
looked up to the chamber where Lord Warriston
usually sat, and a multitude of associations connected
with the past vividly rushing into his mind, he said to
her, “Many a sweet day and night with God had your
now glorified father in that chamber.” “ Yes,” she
replied; and, thinking of his cruel death, she added,
“Now he is beyond the reach of all suffering,
equally free from sin and sorrow; and the same
grace which supported him is able to support you.”
She went up with him to the scaffold, and stood by
him while he attempted to address the crowd of
spectators; which he no sooner began to do—“My
faint zeal for the Protestant religion has brought
me to this end ”—than he was interrupted by the
beating of the drums; after which he made no
farther attempt to speak. Previous to his engaging
in prayer and being thrown ever, she took her last
farewell of him, which struck to the inmost feelings
of her soul as with the hand of death. The last adieu
of a dying friend, even when he dies upon his bed,
though gratifying, is always painful—agonizing to
the survivors. But when his death is tragical and
outwardly ignominious, the final parting is still
more overwhelming to the feelings. After Baillie
had been thrown over, Lady Graden had still another
duty to perform to him. She knew that the very
dust of God’s saints is precious in his sight; that
their bodies, though they may become the victims
of man’s implacable rage, continue to be the objects
of his incessant care, and in the faith of this, and in
imitation of God, she exercised an anxious care over
the body of her friend, after the emancipated spirit
had ascended from it to the throne of God, to receive
the crown of immortal life.
she continued on the scaffold not only till Baillie
was executed, but till she saw the hangman quarter
his body. She also went with the hangman to see
the pieces oiled and tarrcd, and she took them and
wrapped each up in a linen cloth ; after which they
were thrown into the thieves’ hole, before being
dispersed to the respective places where they were
to be exhibited as a public spectacle.1
The affliction of Lady J erviswood, who, while all


“With a more than‘
masculine courage,” as Fountainhall justly observes, .



this was going on, was confined to her chamber, was
great; nor did the government show much sympathy
for her lacerated feelings. The night after her hus-
band was hanged and quartered, they placed a guard
of soldiers at her door; so that a gentleman, who had
received from him a paper for her, could hardly get
access to deliver it to her. Their object in placing the
soldiers at her door was to get from her his dying
speech, with the matter of which they were ex-
tremely offended, and the circulation of which they
were very anxious to suppress. She gave them a
copy of the speech, upon which the soldiers were
removed. The idea of his members being dispersed
through the country, and exhibited to public view,
was peculiarly distressing to her feelings, and she
petitioned‘ the privy council to permit them to be
buried. The council were too heartless to grant
her request from sentiments of humanity ; but not
altogether insensible to public odium, they would
willingly have given her his members for interment
could she have called in and suppressed all the
copies of his speech, which was so much calculated
to create, in the public mind, sympathy for the
martyr, and indignation vagainst the bloody men
who murdered him. This, however, she very pro-
bably could not do, several copies of it having been
written out and circulated; and, accordingly, her
petition was rejected. The king was also petitioned
to the same effect; but, little susceptible of humane
emotions, and too much engrossed with his vicious
pleasures to lend a favourable ear to a widow’s
plaint, he also refused to grant her desire.
“ I am a king,
And wherefore should the clamorous voice of woe
Intrude upon mine ears.”
Little did he know, alas! that before six weeks
elapsed, he would be smitten by the relentless hand
of death in the midst of his debaucheries, and sum-
moned to give in his account before the Judge of
all. The mutilated members of the martyr lay in
the thieves’ hole about twenty days, till the rats
were like to fall upon them; after which they were
sent to the several places on the tolbooths of which
they were to be fixed, according to the sentence;
and there, it would seem, they continued till the
Revolution, when, it is probable, the conscience-
strieken persecutors, dreading retaliation from the
persecuted Presbyterians, upon the introduction of
a new order of things, took them down, as they took
down the heads, arms, and legs of other martyrs,
which, with equal barbarity, they had exposed on the
gates of the capital, and on the tolbooths of the
principal towns ’

1Ir‘ountainhall’s Historical Notices, vol. ii., p. 595. Wodrow’s
Analecta, vol. iii., pp. 78-80.
1Fountainhall’s Historical Notices, vol. ii., p. 595.
Analecta, vol. iii., pp. 78-60.
Wodrow’s
14:5 THE LADIES CF
THE GO VENANT.


Cf Lady Graden we meet with no additional
notices during the persecution. She, however,
lived to see the Stuarts expelled from the British
throne, and to rejoice in the deliverance which was
effected by the Prince of Orange. She also saw the
descendants of Baillie raised to situations of high
honour and trust under the new government, and,
what was still better, adorning their high stations
by the Christian virtues which distinguished their


martyred father, and proving public blessings to
their country in their day and generation. She died
in Edinburgh, previous to the llth of September
1707.I

1“ The testament-dative and inventory of the debts and sums of
money pertaining and addebtcd to umquhill Helen Johnston, relict
of the deceased M r. George Home of Graden, the time of her decease,
who deceased within the city of Edinburgh," is registered 11th Sep-
tember 1707.—Commissary Records of Edinburgh.

LILIAS DUNBAR,
DURINGtllB persecution, the adherents of Presbytery,
though most numerous in the south and west of
Scotland, were scattered more or less numerously
over the northern counties. Even so far north as
Morayshire, and in some of the neighbouring shires,
not a few of them were to be found. The gospel
had been preached in these remote parts, with con-
siderable success, by Mr. Robert Bruce, Mr. David
Dickson, and other ministers who had been banished
thither by James VI. or by the high commission
court, for their opposition to the introduction of
prelacy, and the fruits of the instructions of these
eminent men remained even to the persecuting
times. The labours of several very worthy ministers,
who were settled in these localities previous to the
Restoration, but who, shortly after that era, were
ejected from their charges, had been also accompanied,
during their incumbency, with no small measure of
success; and some of them, as Mr. Thomas Hog,
Mr. John M‘Gilligen, and Mr. Thomas Boss, con-
tinued to preach publicly after their ejection, with
evident tokens of the Divine blessing. Many who
had profited under their pastoral care, and who
sympathized with them and the cause in which they
suffered, no doubt went to the parish churches to
hear the curates ; but while they did so, they were
secretly hostile to prelacy, and a considerable number
desistcd altogether from waiting on the ministry of
the conforming clergy. Nor was it the poor and more
illiterate, but the more wealthy and the best edu-
cated of the population, several of them proprietors
of the soil, who favoured the Presbyterian cause.
So strong a conviction had the government been led
to form of the Presbyterian leanings of the people
in Morayshire, as to suspect that a considerable
portion of them had actually joined with the Cove-
nanters at Bothwell Bridge, or supported them with

MRS. CAMPBELL.
strictest inquiry made by the commissioners of the
privy council, who met at Elgin in the beginning of
the year 1685, no evidence of this was brought out.
The government had also been led to believe that
some of the leading men among them had, from
favour to the Covenanters, employed a stratagem to
prevent the heritors and militia from going out to
assist the king’s forces in putting down the insur-
rection at Bothwell Bridge, at the very time when
they were convening for that purpose. A fiery
cross had been carried through the shire of Moray,
avowedly to raise the inhabitants to defend them-
selves against the M‘Donalds, who, it was given out,
were about to invade them; but the friends of the
government alleged that this was a mere pretext,
maintaining that the M‘Donalds were at a distance,
and had no such hostile intention, and that the real
object of the mission of the fiery cross was to keep
the heritors and militia from going out to join the
king’s best, by creating an apprehension that their
presence was necessary at home for the protection
of their own bounds.l So favourably inclined were
some of the most respectable and wealthy in that
part of the country to the Presbyterian interest, and
so desirous were they of enjoying the pastoral
instruction and superintendence of ministers of that
persuasion, that they came to the resolution of using
means for obtaining from the government the ex-
tension of the indulgence which had been granted
in the south to Morayshire, and appointed two of
their number, Sir Hugh Campbell of Calder, and
Thomas Dunbar of Grange, to go to Edinburgh upon
this matter, authorizing them to act therein accord-
ing to their own discretion. Finding, on their
arrival at Edinburgh, that there was no prospect of
their proposal being favourably listened to by the

money, horses, arms, or provisions. although, after the 1
1 See Appendix, no.


MRS. CAMPBELL.
14:9



government, there being then every appearance that
the indulgence granted in the South would be with-
drawn, these two commissioners did not move in
the business at all.1
Among the secret or avowed friends of the per-
secuted cause of nonconformity in Morayshire and
the neighbouring shires, were several ladies of
respectable rank and of distinguished piety; among
Whom may be enumerated the Lady of Sir Hugh
Campbell of Calder, Lady Duffus, Lady Kilravock,
Lady Muirtown, Lady Innes, and others. The lady
of whom we now propose to give some account,
though respectably connected, was of humbler rank
than the ladies now mentioned. But she was in
some respects superior to any of them, not, it may
be, on the score of piety, yet in regard to her
enlightened and resolute adherence to Presbyterian
principles. She has left behind her a diary,2 which,
though consisting chiefly of a record of her religious
exercise and experience, is very interesting and
instructive. It breathes throughout a spirit of
ardent piety. It displays an extensive acquaintance
with the Scriptures, and is remarkable for the judi-
eiousness of the sentiment, untinctured by extra-
vagance or enthusiasm, as well as for the elegant
simplicity of the style, the age in which it was written
being considered; from which it is evident that she
was a woman of a superior mind, and that her piety
was as enlightened as it was ardent.
LILIAS DUNBAR was the only daughter of Mr.
—— Dunbar of Boggs, by his wife, Christian
Campbell, daughter to Sir John Campbell, fifth

1 See Appendix, no. ix.
2This diary was printed for the first time in “The Religious
Monitor and Evangelical Repository ” for 1832, an American peri-
odieal publication. It is preceded by a short biographical notice of
the authorcss, written by the Rev. James Calder, minister of Grey,
her grandson. Of this diary, ample use is made in the present
memoir; and my best acknowledgments are due to the Rev. Thomas
Goodwillie, Barnet, State of Vermont, United States of America,
who kindly transmitted to me a copy of the several numbers of the
periodical in which it is contained. I am also under obligations to
the Rev. John Russell, Stamford, Canada West, to whom the MS.
from which the diary was printed belongs, for some interesting
notices of the descendants of one of Mrs. Campbell’s daughters,
which the reader will find in the close of this sketch. Mr. Russell
inherited this MS. from his mother-in-law, the wife of the Rev.
Henry Clark of Boghole, and great-granddaughter of Mrs. Campbell,
and though not the original, it is a transcript either from it or from
a correct copy. “The Rev. James Calder,” says he, “informs us in
his preface that he had the diary transcribed, under his own eye,
from the original. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Clark of Boghole, bor~
rowed either the original, or, more probably, that copy, from her
uncle, and transcribed the whole of it in a very plain, good hand.
This copy now in our possession. Some years ago, through urgent
importunity, we permitted it to be taken to the Rev. Alexander
Gordon, late of _, New York, that it might be published in
“The Religious Monitor,” and, when in type, a few extra copies
were struck off for gratuitous distribution among acquaintances in
America friendly to the Reformation in Scotland.”

knight of Calder. She was born about the year
1657. When very young, she had the misfortune
to be deprived of bbth her parents by death; after
which she was for some time brought up by her
cousin, Sir Hugh Campbell, who succeeded her
grandfather, as the nearest male heirof the family
of Calder. She was next taken into the family of
her cousin-german, the pious Lady Duff us, who acted
towards her the part not merely of a kind friend, but of
an indulgent mother, for twelve years ; and for whom
she felt all the tenderness of an affectionate daughter.
Though favoured with a religious education, she
did not feel even common serious impressions till
she had nearly reached the seventeenth year of her
age, when she became dangerously ill of the small
pox,I in the family of Lord Duffus, at Elgin. She
acknowledges that before this she had no religion,
though education and good company had sufficient
influence on her conscience to keep her from hating
and reproaching the godly, and though she was kept
from gross outward sins. Under this sickness, her
conscience being awakened, she vowed that should
God in his providence recover her, she would strive
to be his servant; and having, notwithstanding her
previous thoughtlessness about religion, been con-
vinced, that the nonconforming ministers far sur.
passed the conforming in spirituality of character,
as well as in their success in turning sinners to God
and in building up saints, she also resolved to
embrace such opportunities as offered of hearing
them preach. This, and not that intelligent acquaint~
ance with the important principles for which they
were suffering, which she afterwards attained, was
the reason why she purposed to attend their minis-
try. “At that time,” says she, “I did not truly
perceive how much it was my duty to take heed
whom I heard, and to consider them who were my
ministers, and to follow their faith, looking to the
end of their conversation, and to mark them that
make divisions, and turn aside for reward. Neither
did I understand that there was so much of popery
and will-worship in episcopacy as truly there is.
Neither did I know that the Presbyterians’ laying
down of life and liberty was for such a weighty
matter as owning Jesus Christ in his kingly office.
The end for which I intended to hear Presbyterian
ministers preach was, because I heard and saw that.
the Lord had blessed their labours to many, and
souls were getting good by them.”
On her recovery from this sickness, she went again
to Calder, whence she had come to Elgin; and there
' being at that time in Calder several godly ministers,

‘ This was in the year 1674.


150 rue LADIES on
THE COV ENANT.




Mr. Thomas Ross, Mr. Thomas Hog, and Mr. James
Urquhart, she had an opportunity of attending their
ministry, which she highly prized. Still she con-
fesses, that “the getting of Christ and a new heart
was not her first desire, but to get something in
herself to answer God’s goodness with, and to get
and embrace the means of salvation;” that she
“ wanted Christ and a new heart days and years after
this, even until she saw herself miserable without
Christ, and glad to sell all in her and without her
to get that enriching pearl; ” and that though she
aimed at serving the Lord and seeking a righte-
ousness, she sought it long in herself before she
attained to that which cometh by faith in Jesus
Christ.
The first two Sabbaths after her coming to Calder,
she went to the Old Town of Kilraick, where Mr.
Thomas Ross then dwelt, and heard him preach.
Under the sermons of this holy man, she felt her
affections grow warm with zeal for God, and love to
Mr. Boss’s hearers, and her heart inspired with a
greater fear of committing sin than she had formerly
experienced.~ But though more delighted with
sitting under his ministry than ever she had been
with hearing any of the prelatic persuasion, yet from
the fear of giving offence to several persons whom
she loved, she went next Sabbath to hear Mr. Donald
M‘Pherson, the incumbent of the parish of Calder.
“I got no good,” says she, “there, but rather evil.
What I heard had no impression on my affections or
memory. It was a dead sound to me. Neither did
[ discern so much as reverence to God among the
people Isaw there. I was even ensnared by the
carnal carriage and discourse of that congregation.”
From this she found that the Word of God proved
profitable to the hearers only when preached by
those who walk uprightly; and that when it is
otherwise, God’s holy name is profaned by the
speaker, and the Word preached tends to harden the
hearts of the hearers. Having derived no benefit
from hearing Mr. M‘Pherson preach on the Sabbath
referred to, nor during the three years in which,
previous to this, she had attended his ministry,
while the hearing of Mr. Thomas Ross begat in her
a desire after God, she resolved to wait on the pure
preaching of the Word, so long as such an oppor-
tunity was within her reach; and from that time she
continued to hear Mr. Ross, under whose pulpit
instructions she profited “in head-knowledge, in
formality of duties, and in outward zeal.” Half a
year after this, she went to Elgin, to visit Lady
Duffus, and, contrary to her intention, was kept
there over Sabbath. On Saturday, it was distressing
to her to think of going on the morrow to hear the

_,____
bishop;l for having been his hearer half a year before,
she knew the unedifyiug and fruitless character of
his sermons. But there being no motive inducing
her to go except the fear of man, and persuaded that
it is better to offend man than God, she stayed at
home on the Sabbath, for which she met with censure
and reproach. “From this,” says she, “ I observed,
1st, That a natural conscience will move men to
their duty, although they should suffer for doing the
same, and yet be void of true love to God; and, 2d,
That it is good to walk according to one’s light, both
in his judgment and outward performance, although
he have not yet attained to be right in the more
weighty matter in the heart. It was love I had to
my own soul that made me stay from that polluted
ordinance, rather than to witness for God, in my
station, against the evil of the times.”
After staying one Sabbath at Elgin, she returned
to Calder, intending next spring to remove to Elgin,
and stay with Lady Duffus. There being at that
time no Presbyterian ministers at Elgin, she was not
a little perplexed as to whether she should attend
the ministry of the bishop. The temptation sug
gested itself to her mind, that many better than
herself went to hear the prelatic ministers, and that
her noncompliance might be adverse to her worldly
interest, by giving offence to Lady Duffus and the
other members of the family. Influenced by such
motives, she resolved, though without expressing her
intention to any one, to go with the crowd to hear
the prelates and their curates on the Sabbath, when
deprived of an opportunity of hearing the Presby-
terian ministers. Becoming, however, soon after,
convinced that it was sinful for her, from the fear of
reproach or of injuring her temporal interests, to
take the example of a few persons for her rule, and
acting upon this conviction, she entirely left off
hearing the prelatic incumbents.
In 167 7 , she suffered a heavy affliction in the loss
of Lady Duffus, who died on the 16th of April that
year. About a fortnight after the death of this
kind benefactor, she gave up the charge she had in
the family, and came out in the evening without a
creature to comfort her, and without knowing where
her next residence would be. Under this bereave-
ment, she sought consolation in religion, and it was
her own belief that the date of her first becoming a
genuine believer in Christ was about a fortnight after
that event. This appears from the following entry
in her diary :—“Elgin, May 1,167 7 .--~The Lord, who
is the Almighty, by his power, made my soul to
close with the Lord Jesus, wholly on the terms that

1 Mr. Murdoch M‘Kenzie.




MRS. CAMPBELL.
151


the gospel holdeth forth; and the Lord himself
gave me faith to believe in Jesus Christ, that he
was my Saviour, which I could never attain before
that time on good grounds. On that blessed morn-
ing to me, I got the Rock of ages to be my support,
and I got Christ Jesus to be to me the end of the
law for righteousness, to comfort me inwardly,
under my disconsolate condition outwardly; for it
was but fifteen days after the death of my Lady
Duifus, who was in place of my parents and all my
relations to me. Now I cannot pass by without
observing the wisdom and goodness of God to me, in
choosing that day and time for my deliverance out
of the hands of all mine enemies, that I might serve
him without fear. It was the time wherein I was
most desolate. I was deprived of my parents by
death, and had not the expectation of other means
to supply my wants. It was then I was deprived
of the only person in the world who took care of
me, when it pleased the wise Lord by death to put
a separation betwixt my Lady Dulfus and me, who
died April 16, 1677. Then it was that the gracious
God, who delights in showing mercy, did enlarge
my heart, and made me to take hold of him who is
the pearl of great price, in whom all f ulness dwells.”
In another place, after speaking of her great affec-
tion to Lady Duff us, and the loss she sustained by
her death, she says, “Truly, I think nothing less
than deliverance out of soul troubles, and the love
of Christ, could make me overcome the loss of her,
who was my all in the world; my pleasure, honour,
and riches were all in her; but how soon was all
this laid in the dust to me. Yet praises for ever be
to him who did it, so that we both were gainers.
She hath passed from the valley of misery, and, as
she herself said at her death, hath gotten the palm-
tree in her hand, and now she walks with the Lamb
in white. As for my part, for brass I have gotten
gold, for a fading flower I have gotten the Noble
Plant of Renown, who is the brightness of the
Father’s glory, and the express image of his person
—him who was dead and is alive, and lives for ever-
more—him from whom death shall not be able to
separate me, for he shall be with me when I go
through the dark valley, so that I shall fear no evil.
He shall present me spotless to the Father, in that
place where there is no sin, no sorrow, no sickness,
no death; where I shall behold his face with joy,
and where there are durable riches, and everlasting
pleasures.”
In those days of primitive simplicity, and great
religions fervour, it was more customary than in our
day, for Christians, in order to have their religious

, plied their room to me were taken from me.
ministers, who were supposed to be skilled in dis-
tinguishing the genuine work of God’s Spirit from
counterfeit or spurious marks of grace. Of this,
besides other instances which occur in the diary of
the subject of this sketch, we meet with an example
in the account which she gives of a visit she made,
in 1677, to Mr. Thomas Ross, who was then a pri-
soner in Tain. “ One part of my errand,” says she,
“ was to inform him of my condition, and to be tried
by him, that, if I was right, I might be the more
confirmed, and that my good Lord might get praise
for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to
me.” She was accompanied by an intimate friend,
a young woman named J can Taylor, who also had a
desire to see Mr. Ross, who had previously been
the instrument of good to her soul. On coming to
Tain, they found the good man sickly, yet he spent
the time with them in very edifying discourse, and in
explaining to them several passages of Scripture,
about which they desired to be informed. “ We found
much of the presence of God in his company,” says
she, “ and our hearts opened to one another to tell
of the goodness of God to our souls. Being with
him alone next morning, I told him all the particu-
lar steps I could remember of my soul exercises,
since I was taken from being his hearer in the Old
Town of Kilraick, which was two years before that
time. When I told him of my soul trouble, and
began to tell him of my deliverance, and the loving-
kindness of the Lord to me; how my will was
broken, and faith wrought, and Christ Jesus mani-
fested to me, our souls were filled with the joy of
the Lord. Mr. Thomas wept for joy, and I was so
filled with a sense and feeling of the wonderful
power of God, and his love to my soul in Jesus
Christ, that I was put to silence for a while, and
could not get expressions to vent the ocean of his
lovef’
She returned from Tain to Moiness, where she
stayed some weeks with Mrs. Donald Campbell,
whose kindness to her she gratefully records, and
to whom she had freedom in communicating her
Christian experience, that lady “ being one,” as
she observes, “that had tasted that the Lord was
gracious.” Shortly after, she went to service to
Lady Innes Younger, who was residing at Dipple.
All these changes strongly affected her mind.
W'riting in July 1677, she says, “ Lady Innes
Younger sent for me to Moiness, to go home to her
service to Dipple. Upon which I had deep impres-
sions on my spirit of being desolate—an orphan,
having neither father nor mother, and those who sup-
First,
experiences tested, to communicate them to godly ] my aunt, Ladyto the Master of Forbes,and soon after,





F2
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



my Lady Duffus, her daughter, who was indeed a
mother to me for twelve years. My love to her did
exceed its due bounds; my expectations from her,
and my fears of being deprived of her, were both
great.” In the family of Lady Innes she was, how-
ever, very comfortable. Of that lady she speaks in
the highest terms. “ She whom I was serving
was a real seeker of God, and zealous for the
truth; a wise reserved woman, easy to be served,
of a pleasant natural temper. I never got an
angry word from her. Her regret would be that I
was not so well with her as she would desire; and
my complaint was, that my service done her was so
small.”
During the time of her residence in that family,
she enjoyed much spiritual comfort. “I stayed a
year with her, which was a blessed time to my soul,
such as I have not had the like.”-—-“ That was the
year wherein I was taken up to mount Pisgah, and
made to view the promised land, and did eat of the
grapes of Eshcol, even the first-fruits of that land
that is the glory of all lands.”-—“The first month
I was at Dipple I was made to read
my own name in the book of Election, by finding
the Spirit of God in his Word bearing witness with
my spirit that I was his. I was made to consider
what my case was the year before ; how the threat-
enings of the Word of God were a terror to me,
because I found myself guilty—the avenger of blood
pursuing, and I without the city of refuge. I found
my conscience condemning me, so that I here the
sentence of death in my breast. I was encompassed
about with fears in my greatest prosperity. Then
I was made to wonder and rejoice at the blessed
change I felt wrought in my soul—faith where
there was unbelief—light where there was dark-
ness—hope where there was fear: I was made to
find the enmity that was in me taken away, and
God in Christ become my friend.” .
In the summer of the year 1679, in the 22d year
of her age, she was married to Mr. Alexander Camp-
bell of Torrich, a young gentleman descended, like
herself, from the family of Calder, and a cousin of
her own. In the prospect of entering into this new
relation, her unwillingness to have the service per-
formed by any of the prelatic clergy, occasioned her
no small perplexity, it being a crime, as the law
then stood, to employ for that purpose the noncon-
forming ministers. “ This matter,” says she, “ which
gave me much trouble before, and was likely to give
more, was then so presented to my view, that it
was a sharp trial to my faith.” The union was,
however, formed by Mr. John Stewart, who, at the
Restoration, was minister of a parish in the Presby-

tery of Deer, in the Synod of Aberdeen, but who
was ejected for nonconformity. This we learn from
the examination of Mr. Stewart, before the com—
mittee of the privy council, which met at Elgin on
the 2d of February 1685 ; when he “deponed that
he married Alexander Campbell, in Calder’s land,
with Lilias Dunbar, who had been the Lady Inncs’s
servant long before the Indemnity.” This new
relation proved to her the source of much domestic
happiness. In Mr. Campbell, who was a man of
genuine piety, as well as an intelligent and warm
friend of the Presbyterian interest, she found a
husband whose character, tastes, and habits, were
congenial to her own; and she records, twelve
years after this, that his “tender affection and care
of her, in all her bodily distresses, was one of the
greatest mercies bestowed on her.”
The persecution which raged in the south of
Scotland also embraced Morayshire. The noncon-
forming ministers there, like those in the South, were
ejected from their charges; and some of them, as
Mr. Thomas Hog, Mr. John M‘Gilligen, and
Mr. Thomas Ross, were imprisoned both in the
North and in the Bass. Several of the laity, too,
were fined and imprisoned by the sheriff of the
shire. It was not, however, till the year 1685, that
Mrs. Campbell was subjected to trouble on account
of her Presbyterian principles. To put the laws
against nonconformity into execution, the govern-
ment had adopted the method of sending commis-
sioners invested with ample powers, to different
parts of the country, to hold courts for trying such
as were guilty of church disorders; and about the
close of the year 1684:, it was resolved to adopt
vigorous measures against the Presbyterians in the
North. 011 the 30th of December that year, the
privy council, in obedience to a letter received from
his majesty, appointed and commissioned the Earl
of Errol, the Earl of Kintore, and Sir George Monro,
to proceed to Morayshire, “to meet and hold courts,
and in these courts to call and convene all parties
guilty of conventicles, withdrawing from the public
ordinances, disorderly baptisms or marriages, and
such like disorders and irregularities; and to take
their oath or examine witnesses against them, as
they shall see cause, pronounce sentences and cause
the same be put to due execution, by imprisonment
or other legal diligence, either as to witnesses not
compearing, or compearing refusing to depone, or
as to parties also refusing to depone when the verity
of the libel is remitted to their oath, conform to the
laws of this realm.” The bounds included in their
commission were “betwixt Spey and Ness, includ-
ing Strathspey and Abernethy,” and their first


T
153
MRS. CAMPBELL.



meeting was to be at Elgin the 22d of January
1685.” 1
To facilitate the proceedings of these commission-
ers, the council, on the 8th of January 1685, wrote a
letter to the bishop of Moray, “ recommending ” him
to advertise all his ministers within the bounds
specified, to attend the commissioners on the above
day, bringing with them their elders, and lists of
persons guilty of church disorders, or suspected of
disaffection to the present established government
in church or state. And to afford all encouragement
and protection to the commissioners, the council, at
the same meeting, wrote a letter to Lord Down,
sheriff of Moray, requiring and commanding him to
convene all the heritors and freeholders in his shire
and bounds foresaid, and his militia regiment, to
attend the commissioners until the end of their com-
mission, and to receive and obey such orders as
should be given them by the commissioners from
time to time.
As a farther means of facilitating the proceedings
of the commissioners, the council obtained a list of
between two and three hundred nonconformists in
Morayshire and the adjacent districts, made up, it
is probable, by the assistance of the established
clergy, who throughout the whole of Scotland were
particularly zealous in furnishing the government
with lists of persons who did not attend the parish
churches. And on the 10th of January 1685, the
council ordered letters to be addressed to his ma-
jesty’s messengers-at-arms, and also to the sheriff in
that part of the country, commanding them to sum-
mon, according to the legal forms, the persons named
and crirninated in the letters, to appear personally
before the lords commissioners of the privy council
and justiciary to meet at Elgin, “to answer to the .

the shire in which Mrs. Campbell, and many of the
others whose names appear in the letters, resided,
and thereat, “ after three several oyess,” open pro-
clamation, and public reading of the letters in time
of public market, commanded and charged them, in
the name and by the authority of his majesty, to
compear before the lords commissioners of his
majesty’s council and justiciary at hllgin, upon the
4th day of February next, to answer to the said
complaint.
The charges brought against Mrs. Campbell and
the other individuals against whom these letters were
directed, will be best learned from the letters them-
selves.1 They begin with affirming, that “ by the
laws and customs of all well governed nations, laws
and practices of this kingdom, and many clear and
express acts of parliament, the crimes of sedition,
the enticing, persuading, instigating, or encouraging
any persons to rebellion; the supplying and furnish-
ing them with money or provisions for carrying on
thereof; the giving them any help or counsel there-
anent; the keeping of intelligence or correspondence
with them; the concealing, resetting, harbouring,
supplying, conversing, intercommuning, or corre-
sponding with or doing favours to any traitors, rebels,
fugitives, vagrant preachers, or intercommuned
persons; the giving meat, drink, house, harbour or
relief, comfort or counsel to them; the maintaining
of the treasonable positions and principles of resist-
ing, suspending, depriving or deposing us from the
exercise of our royal government, putting limitations
on their due allegiance and obedience to us; the
malicious speaking, advising and writing, preaching
or expressing such treasonable intentions ; the
attempting or endeavouring any manner of way the
diversion or suspension of the right of succession to
foresaid complaint, and to give their oaths of verity i the imperial crown of this realm, or debarring the
thereupon, or such articles thereof as shall be by the i
said lords referred thereto, with certification to them,
if they refuse to deponc as aforesaid, the said lords
are to hold them as confessed, and proceed to pro-
nounce sentence against them for an arbitrary
punishment as offers under the pain of rebellion and
were Mrs. Campbell, Mr. Campbell, and his mother;
and they were duly summoned.
On the 30th of January, two messengers-at-arms

next lawful successor from the immediate actual and
free administration of the government ; the plotting
and contriving against us and our government ; the
uttering of any slanderous or seditious speeches
against us, our council, or proceedings ; the stirring
: up of our people to sedition, rebellion, or a dislike
putting of them thereto simpliciter.” 2 In the list '
of those against whom these letters were raised‘
of our government; the leasing-making to, of, or
betwixt us and our people; the concealing and not
revealing of treason, and the hearing of seditious
and treasonable speeches and proposals of contribut-
, ing and collecting money for forfaulted traitors,
proceeded to the market cross of Nairn, the head of I

1 Warrants of Privy Council.
commission was extended to the shires of Inverness, Ross, Cromarty,
and Sutherland, the council having heard that there were several
persons guilty of the like delinquencies in these shires.
= Warrants of Privy Council.
On the 9th of January 1685, their ‘
rebels, or fugitives, and not discovering and giving
notice of the same, are in themselves crimes of a
very high and dangerous nature and consequence,
1 Mr. Roderick M‘Kenzie of Dalvenan, Advocate-substitute for
his Majesty’s Advocate, is the prosecutor.
U


TlIE LADIES OF TIIE COVENANT.



punishable with the pains of death, forfeiture of life,
lands, and goods; and by three several warrants, under
our royal hand, our advocate is allowed and autho-
rized to pursue the foresaid treasonable crimes, or any
one or other of them, in order to an arbitrary punish-
ment, before the lords of our privy council; and to
pursue the same to the defenders’ oaths of verity:
And the refusing allegiance to us, the native sove-
reign; the owning, or refusing to disown, disclaim,
and renounce the treasonable combination against us
and our authority, called the Solemn League and
Covenant, so oft condemned by our laws and pro-
clamations of our council, by which they put most
undutiful and treasonable limitations upon the due
allegiance which they owe to us, are crimes of a
high nature, and severely punishable; and by the
laws and acts of parliament of this kingdom, the
withdrawing from their own parish kirks, being
present at house or field conventicles, the baptizing
and marrying irregularly, are declared to be seditious,
and of dangerous consequence; and the not com-
municating once in the year, and not taking the oath
of allegiance, the suffering of conventicles in their
house or lands, are, by several acts of parliament
and proclamations, severely punishable, with the
pains and penalties therein expressed; and the
refusing to depone anent conventicles, persons
present there, and circumstances done therein, or
resetting or intercommuning with rebels or fugitives,
are punishable with fining, close imprisonment, or
banishment to the plantations.” ‘
The letters next proceed to bring home the
charges. “Nevertheless, it is of verity that Mr.
James Park, Mr. John Stewart, Mr. George Mel-
drum of Crombie, Mr. Alexander Dunbar, Mr.
James Urquhart, vagrant preachers ; Janet Watson,
spouse to John Barber; Elizabeth 'Weemes, Lady
Brea; Jean Campbell, goodwife of Torrich; Ewin
Campbell, lately in Calder parish; Jean Thomson,
his spouse; Alexander Campbell, lately there; Lilias
Dunbar, his spouse; Jean Taylor, sometime servant
to the goodwife of Torrich; 1. . . . . being
persons of seditious and pernicious principles, highly
disaffected to us and our government, have most trea-
sonably incited, persuaded, instigated, and encou-
raged several persons to go out to the late rebel-
lion at Bothwell-bridge, in June 1679 years; did
supply, or promised to supply, and furnish them
with money, horse, arms, provisions, for carrying on
thereof; kept intelligence and correspondence with
them; gave them help or counsel thereanent; did
most treasonably conceal, harbour, supply, converse,

1 There are between two and three hundred other names.

intercommune, and correspond with, give meat,
drink, house, harbour, relief, comfort, and counsel,
and do favours to notour, open, and manifest
traitors, rebels, fugitives, forfaulted, and intercom-
muned persons, seditious and vagrant preachers, or
such who were actually in the late rebellion, and had
been indicted, challenged, or pursued therefor, or
holden repute, and known to them to have been
therein; particularly to Archibald, late Earl of
Argyll, James Nimmo, Mr. Robert Martin, some-
time clerk to the justice court, John Hay of Park,
Mr. Alexander Fraser, Mr. Thomas Hog, Mr. John
M‘Gilligen, [Mr. James] Fraser of Brea, Mr. John
Hepburn, Mr. William M‘Kay, Mr. Alexander Dun»
bar, Mr. James Urquhart, Mr. James Park, Mr. Tho‘
mas Boss, Mr. John Stewart, Mr. Duncan Forbes,
Mr. William Ramsay, William Cranston, servant in
Gutters, or one or other of the forfaulted or printed
rebels and fugitives ; treated and consulted by word,
writ, or message with them, and the persons above
named, and others, both in England, Holland, and
this kingdom, for carrying on the late horrid and
execrable plot against our sacred person, the person
of our royal brother, and our government and autho-
rity; contributed, or promised to contribute, money
and provisions for carrying on thereof; did hear,
conceal, and not reveal treasonable proposals, dis-
courses, contributions offered and sought thereanent,
or for them, and against us and our government;
have, and do maintain these treasonable positions,
that it is lawful for subjects to enter into leagues and
covenants, and to take up arms against us and our
authority, to suspend, deprive, and depose us from
the style, honour, and kingly name of the imperial
crown of this realm, and from the exercise of our royal
government; have, and do put limitations upon, their
due obedience and allegiance to us; have maliciously
spoken, written, or otherwise expressed these their
treasonable intentions; have attempted and endea-
voured the suspension and the diversion of the right
of succession, and debarring our lawful successor;
have plotted and contrived against us and cm
government; have uttered slanderous and seditious
speeches against us, our council and proceedings;
have and do decline the judgment of us and our
council; have endeavoured the innovation of 0m
government; have impugned or sought the diminu-
tion thereof; have made and told leasings to, of, and
betwixt us and our people; have concealed and not
revealed treason, seditious and treasonable speeches
and proposals; have withdrawn from, and not kept
and joined in, the public ordinances and ordinary
meetings of divine worship in these our parish
P churches; have been present at house or field con‘




MRS. CAMP BE LL.
155


venticles, where several seditious preachers did take
upon them to preach, pray, and expone Scripture;
have married and baptized disorderly; have not
communicated once a year; have or do refuse and
delay to depone anent conventicles, persons present
thereat, things done therein, and anent receipting
and intercommuning with fugitives and rebels; have
and do refuse to take the oath of allegiance required,
and offered to swear and renew the Covenant, or
refuse to disclaim, disown, or renounce the same;
have expressed words and sentences to stir up the
people to a dislike of us, our prerogative, and supre-
macy, and the government of church and state; and
the said ministers did pray, preach, and the persons
above named did hear treasonable and seditious
doctrine, and have suffered and heard conventicles
in their houses and on their lands, whereby the said
and the other persons above complained upon have
directly contravened the foresaid laws and acts of
parliament; have committed and are guilty of one
or other of the crimes particularly above mentioned,
and are art and part thereof, or accessory thereto.”
These are heavy accusations, but the most of them
are wholly unfounded. The only points in which
Mrs. Campbell, or indeed any of the nouconformists
in the north, had violated the laws then existing,
were their not attending the parish kirk, their being
present at house conventicles, and their hospitably
entertaining the nonconforming ministers. But, like
the persecutors of the primitive church, who covered
the Christians with the skins of wild beasts, and
then exposed them to be torn in pieces by the fury
of dogs, the persecuting government of the Stuarts
was in the practice of charging the Presbyterians
with crimes of which they were altogether innocent,
with the View of making them odious, and of giving
the colour ofjustice to the cruelty with which they
were treated. Such has been the policy of the per-
secutor in every age. He has never avowedly per-
secuted the disciples of Jesus, on the simple ground
of their being the disciples of Jesus. He has first
calumniously accused them of sedition, rebellion, or
other flagitious acts which the magistrate is bound
to punish, and then, under this pretext, has proceeded
to wreak his vengeance upon them.
After charging Mrs. Campbell and her associates
with the crimes just now specified, the letters proceed
as follows :-—“ Which being verified and proven by
their own oath, or otherwise, they ought to be
punished with the pains above mentioned, and with
such arbitrary punishments as the lords of our privy
council shall think fit to decern and determine; and
if they shall refuse to depone upon the haill or any
part of this libel, they ought to be holden as con- {

fessed thereupon, conform to the letters and warrants
direct under our royal hand for that effect; and
punished therefor with such arbitrary pains as the
privy council, or their committee or commissioners,
shall think fit, and the crimes deserve, to the terror
of others to commit the like hereafter.”
On hearing of the intended meeting of the com-
missioners of the privy council, a considerable num-
ber of the persons summoned to appear before them
fled, among whom was Mrs. Campbell’s husband.
Having been intercommuned for hearing and coun-
tenancing the persecuted Presbyterian ministers, he
deemed it prudent to flee for his safety. He fled,
first to Strathnaver, and afterwards to Ireland.
Mrs. Campbell remaining at home to wait upon her
mother-in-law, Mrs. Jean Campbell, who was danger-
ously ill, was apprehended, and carried prisoner to
Elgin. At the meeting of the commissioners of the
the privy council on the 3d of February, the roll of
delinquents was called and their libel read, the tenor
of which has already been laid before our readers.
On the 5th, Mrs. Campbell was brought before them.
The only part of the libel proved against her was,
that she “had withdrawn from, and not kept and
joined in, the public ordinances and ordinary meet-
ings of divine worship in her own parish church.”
Mr. Donald M‘Pherson, minister of the parish of
Calder, in which she resided, gave in a list of dis-
orderly persons in his parish, which consisted only
of seven individuals, among whom are “ Alexander
Campbell, who,” says he, “has removed, and Lilias
Dunbar his wife, who for the most part remains in
in the said parish, but always stays from ordinances ;
Jean Campbell, goodwife of Torrieh, who has been
this long time bygone valetudinary; and J can
Taylor, servant to the foresaid Jean Campbell, who
has now removed from the foresaid parish, but
during her abode always abstracted from ordinances.”
Mr. M‘Pherson being solemnly sworn, deponed that
the above was a correct list of all who were disorderly
in his parish; and that all of them, “except Jean
Campbell, goodwifc of Torrieh, who is at the point
of death,” and Lilias Dunbar, who waited upon her,
had fled, he knew not whither, on hearing that the
committee of the privy council was to sit at .Elgin.
The elders of the parish of Calder, being solemnly
sworn and interrogated, also “deponed that Jean
Campbell, the goodwife of Torrieh, and Lilias Dunbar,
her good-daughter, spouse to Alexander Campbell, of
Torrieh, who has fled, did and does withdraw.” ‘
Being brought before the commissioners, Mrs.
Campbell was examined upon oath. To the question

1 Warrants of Privy Council.





THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


in the negative; and being farther interrogated how
long she had withdrawn from it, she replied, For the
last six years. To the question whether she had
been present at conventicles, she answered in the
affirmative. It being then demanded whether she
would engage to attend the parish church in future,
she replied‘ that she could not come under such an
obligation. Are you then willing, said the com mis-
sioners, to find security to leave the kingdom, or
engage to keep the church? To this she answered
by expressing her readiness to leave her native land,
rather than come under an engagement which
appeared to her to be inconsistent with her duty to
God, and to find such security as might be required.
Her depositions, subscribed by her own hand, which
are preserved in the minutes of the proceedings of
the commissioners, are as follows :—
“February 5, 1685.
“Lilias Dunbar, spouse to Alexander Campbell,
sometime at Calder, [being] solemnly sworn, depones
she has not kept the kirk these six years past,
and has been at conventicles, and is not free to
engage to keep the kirk in time coming; and there-
fore is content to find caution to depart this kingdom
betwixt and the first of August next, she being new
with‘child, or otherwise to keep the kirk, and not
to return to the kingdom, unless she live regularly
therein. “ LILIAS Duncan.”
Under this examination, Mrs. Campbell displayed
a dignity of bearing and a superior intelligence,
which struck the adversaries with conviction, and
the judges with admiration, one of whom spoke in
her favour in the face of the court. Her uncom-


promising fortitude also stands favourably contrasted
with the timidity of the most of those brought before
the commissioners on that day, and on the other
days, who, with a few honourable exceptions,
solemnly swore that they would keep the kirk in
time coming. She was formally banished from the
kingdom of Scotland by the following act of the
commissioners of council z—“Elgin, 11th February
1685.—The lords having considered the depositions
of Lilias Dunbar, spouse to Alexander Campbell,
sometime in Calder, with the libel against her, they,
in respect she has been irregular anddisorderly, and
will not engage to keep the kirk, banish her forth
of this kingdom, and ordain her to enact herself to
go out thereof, under the pain of one thousand
merks.”l She immediately found the security



whether she attended her parish church, she answered



required. Mr. John Campbell, of Langniddery, her
brother-in-law, who attended her during the proceed-
ings against her at Elgin, readily became surety that
she should depart out of Scotland within the time
specified.
It may be observed, that the commissioners of
council excused the absence of her mother-in~law,
Mrs. Jean Campbell, upon a testimonial signed by
Mr. M‘Pherson, minister of Calder, and three of the
elders of that parish, bearing that she was then
confined to her bed, and in so low and weak a condi-
tion of body as to be unable to travel any distance
from her own house, without eminent hazard of her
life. They also excused the absence of Mr. Campbell,
who is said, in the minute of the court, to be “now
in Ireland;” but the ground upon which he was
excused is not stated.
Similar sentences were passed upon several others
who refused to engage to attend their parish churches
in future; and on the same 11th of February, the
lords publicly required and commanded the sheriffs,
bailies of rcgalities and their deputies, magistrates
of burghs, and other inferior judges, to put the laws
vigorously in execution against church dissenters,
and all irregular and disorderly persons, from time
to time; and to imprison their persons till they sign
and take the bond of peace and regularity, and oblige
themselves to keep the kirk in time coming, or till
the privy council give order concerning them, and
especially against the delinquents now cited before
them, in case they keep not the kirk hereafter,
agreeably to their own engagements.
The vigour with which these lord commissioners
proceeded against the nonconformists in the north,
gave great satisfaction to the established clergy in
that quarter. On the same day on which sentence of
banishment was pronounced upon Mrs. Campbell
and several others, “the bishop and clergy of the
diocese of Moray attended the lords in a body, and
gave them their hearty thanks for the great pains
and diligence they had used for the good and
encouragement of the church and clergy in this
place, and for reducing the people to order and
regularity; and begged the lords would allow them
to represent their sense and gratitude thereof to

1 Warrants of Privy Council. Mrs. Cam pbell’s friend, Jean Taylor,
who was servant to Lady Muirtown at that time, was similarly treated.
On being examined by the commissioners, she declared that she had
not kept the parish kirk, refused to engage to keep it in future,
confessed that she had been at several conventicles, and had heard
Mr. Alexander Dunbar preach at Lethin, and Mr. James Urquhart
at his own house, but refused to depone upon oath. Accordingly,
on the same 11th of February, sentence of banishment from the
kingdom was pronounced upon her, and it was also ordained that
she should be detained prisoner till she should be transported. But
on petitioning the commissioners, she was set at liberty, upon her
finding caution to depart the kingdom betwixt that time and the first
of May following, under the pain of 500 merks.


M RS. CAMPBELL.
157


the lords of his majesty’s most honourable privy
council.” ‘
It is to be regretted, that that part of Mrs. Camp-
bell’s diary which relates to the story of her perse-
cution, is lost.” We, however, meet with subsequent
occasional allusions to it. She felt it to be matter
of thankfulness to God, in afterwards looking back
upon that period of her life, that she had been enabled
to witness a good confession at a time when many had
yielded through fear; and acknowledged that the
afflictions which had befallen the church had, by the
Divine blessing, been the means of promoting her
spiritual improvement. On this subject she thus
writes :—-“ May 241, 1691, being the Lord’s Day—I
cried unto the Lord that, if he would lengthen my
days, he would make me [live] more for himself;
that he would smell a savour of rest in my dwelling,
and that there might be a savour of God where I
should be. I mourned when I remembered how
little of this had been. Then the Lord gave me
ease, in making me look back on what special care
he had of me (although some things had been denied
me), in giving food and raiment to me and mine; in
helping me to keep the word of his patience ; and in
keeping me in the hour of temptation. In the even-
ing, I was made to remember the Lord’s great con-
descension to me, in gaining my froward will to
submit to his holy will, as to my greatest troubles,
and the sad dispensations with which the church of
God in this land had been trysted, in my time ; in
letting me see a spiritual good and advantage in
them, so that I have been ashamed of my own mis-
carriages. I was made to see that there was no
God like to him, who does all things well, and works
out of contraries, giving meat out of the eater, and
sweet out of the strong.”
Contrary to their expectations, Mrs. Campbell
and her fellow-eonfessors, who had received sentence
of banishment, were relieved from the necessity of
leaving Scotland. Charles II. dying during the
sitting of the commissioners, and his brother, James,
Duke of York, succeeding to the throne, the court
quickly rose; and though James was a bloody perse-
cutor, exceeding in cruelty his deceased brother, yet
he and his government were so actively employed
in imprisoning, banishing, and executing the non-
conformists in the south, and in crushing the insur-
rection of the Earl of Argyll, which took place soon
after, that Mrs. Campbell and the Presbyterians in


the north were overlooked. Afterwards, when James,
with the view of paving the way for establishing in
Britain the popish religion, of which he was a
bigoted adherent, began to court the favour of dis-
senters, and to emit proclamations indemnifying
them for all pains and penalties incurred for non-
conformity, this, which afforded relief to many who
were suffering in Scotland for conscience’ sake, fur-
nished another cause of her remaining unmolested.
And lastly, the Revolution of 1688, which, by the
expulsion of James from the throne, and the acces-
sion of the illustrious William, Prince of Orange,
put an end to the persecution, and established the
liberties of the subjects upon a permanent basis,
brought her troubles and the troubles of Scotland,
in this respect, to a termination.
Mrs. Campbell’s own experience of the tyranny
of the Stuarts, and especially her sympathy with
others who suffered more severely than herself for
their constancy in the cause of Christ, made her hail
the Revolution as awondcrful deliverance vouchsafed
by God to the church. On this subject, she has the
following entry in her diary :—“ June let, 1691.-1
set myself to be comforted in the favourable and
wonderful steps of providence, which had come to
pass in this land in behalf of the church of God
within these three years past. The
providence of God has been wonderful in these lands,
since that time [King James VIL’s toleration],
in the Lord’s bringing a ravenous bird from the
East; ‘ such he was to the enemies of his church,
but a glorious delivercr to her friends; a man to
execute his counsel, from a foreign country, by
breaking the sceptre of the ruler and the staff of the
oppressor.” But still she rejoiced in that event
with trembling. The prevalence of sin around her,
the small success of the gospel, and the little disposi-
tion which existed to make a suitable improvement
of this great deliverance, excited apprehensions in
her mind that providence might again frown upon
Scotland. In the same part of her diary, she observes
that, when thinking of that great deliverance, she
“could not get comfort, but was in fear of a common
calamity in the land, and a strait which Zion had to
pass through. This,” she adds, “was an old fear
with me, and often renewed, that proceeded not
from the dictates of my own mind, which is but
weak, erring, and sinful, but from a deep impression
which some places of Scripture made on my spirit,
when I was exercised in prayer-from abounding of
sin, and the many evidences of God’s displeasure ; so
that I had much ground to fear, though not to

1 Warrants of Privy Council.
2 The Rev. John Russell, Stamford, Canada West, in the letter
to the author formerly referred to, says, “ Mrs. Campbell’s diary,
before a transcript of it was taken, fell into the hands of persons
not friendly to the cause for which she suffered, who mutilated it
by cutting out some leaves.”
1 William, Prince of Orange.



THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.



prophesy. And never more ground to fear than
since the yoke of persecution began to break four
years ago, by King James’s liberty of conscience,
which was like an untimely birth, which tended to 1
death rather than to life. Zion has been languishing
in this land, and her King in a great measure absent
as to his spiritual and powerful presence in his public
ordinances, since that time.”
While highly esteeming all the nonconforming
ministers in the north—of the most of whom she
makes honourable mention in her diary, Mrs. Camp-
bell regarded with peculiar veneration one of them
-—the celebrated Mr. Thomas Hog, of Kiltearn,
both on account of his eminence as a minister of the
gospel, and because he, of all other ministers, had
been most instrumental in promoting both her own
and her husband’s spiritual interests. His being
forced by persecution to leave Morayshire occasioned
his deep sorrow, and it was her earnest prayer that
he might be restored to that part of the church.
Her prayer was answered, and his restoration to his
old parish afforded her unfeigned joy. Writing,
July 3, 1691, she says, “In the afternoon a friend
came to me, who told me that Mr. Thomas Hog
was come to Moray, and was at present at Muir-
town. This was desirable news to me, which I had
longed and prayed for; he being one in whom there
was much of the Lord to be seen, and who, of all
others, had done most good (by the blessing of God)
to my husband’s soul and to mine, and was, I may
say, an interpreter one of a thousand. When I got
an opportunity to retire, I looked up to the Lord to
bless this man’s coming, and entreated of the Lord
to put a song of praise in my mouth. These words
were brought to me, ‘He strengthens the spoiled
against the strong; I-Ie turneth the shadow of death
into the morning.’ Then I saw the first part of this
Scripture largely made out in him ; so that it might
afford matter of great praise and thankfulness, that
the God of power had strengthened him even when
spoiled of his lovely flock, and had now given him
victory over the strong—even king and council—who
imprisoned him thrice, and then banished him from
his native kingdom for the gospel’s sake; and that
now he was returned with honour (having kept the
faith and a good conscience) to exercise his ministry
in that parish where the Lord at first placed him,
and where he blessed his labours. The dangers
and troubles under which the Lord supported and
relieved him, enlarged my heart in love and praise
to God, who exercises wonderful, infinite wisdom,
love and power towards his servants and people.”
On the 7th of July, Mrs. Campbell and her hus-
band went to Muirtown to visit Mr. Ilog, where

she met with several pious intimate friends, whose
society was very refreshing to her. The next day
she had an opportunity of conversing with Mr. Hog,
to whom she had not spoken for eight years before.
As he was very infirm, and as several other persons
were waiting to speak with him, there were only
two particulars about which she was desirous of
unburdening her mind to him at that time. In the
first place, she wished to know his thoughts con-
cerning her state; and in the second place, she wished
to tell him some of her secret spiritual troubles, with
respect to which she could not attain to submission.
As to the first, he seemed to be displeased with her
for putting to him such a question, and refused to
let her know what were his thoughts respecting her
state. As to the other points, the little he said in
answer was by way of reproof, telling her that the
want of submission proceeded from the pride and
stubbornness of her spirit. Mr. Campbell having
returned home in the afternoon, she stayed a few
days in the family of Muirtown, in which there was
much of the savour of God; and during that time
she obtained relief from the spiritual troubles which
pressed upon her spirit. On the morning of the
day on. which she left Muirtown for Torrich, which
was the 11th of July, having had a private inter-
view with Mr. I-Iog, she told him of the submissive
state of mind to which, through the goodness of God
towards her the two preceding days, she had attained
in reference to what troubled her, and expressed her
fears that some sharp trial was awaiting her, for
which this submissive temper was preparing her,
and which would test its reality. But he disap-
proved of her giving place to such thoughts, charg-
ing her with authority, as well as in much love, to
beware of anxious thoughts about tomorrow, and
earnestly urged her to a confident and consistent
trusting in God, quoting the words of Job, “ Though
he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” “Thus,” says
she, “ did the blessed man press me to live the life
of faith, and,” she adds, “took leave of me, embracing
me as a father does his child.”
Over the death of this eminently holy man she
was soon called to mourn. In her diary, that event
is recorded, and the character of Hog drawn with
much feeling. The passage is deserving of being
quoted, both from the pleasing simplicity with which
it is written, and because it contains the estimate,
formed by an intelligent contemporary, of a minister
highly venerated in his day, and whom Wodrow
calls “that great, and, I had almost said, apostolical
servant of Christ, Mr. Thomas Hog.” 1 “I heard,”

1 Wodrow’s Correspondence, v01. i, p. 166.


MRS. CAMPBELL.
159




says she, “ of Mr. Thomas Hog’s being removed
from time to eternity.l It was [not] a surprise to
me, though great matter of lamentation. My hus-
band and I had been seeing him in August. We
then saw that he was near the end of his journey,
by his spirit being transported with the hopes of
glory, and his bodily health and strength failed. He
endured much trouble in his body two months
before his death, which was dark and afflicting to
me. As I was enabled, my prayer was to God for
him, in the day of his calamity, whose reproof had
been a kindness to me, and his smiting an excellent
oil that did not break my head. The tongue of the
learned was given him, indeed, to speak a word in
season to the weary. He had the heart of the wise,
which taught his mouth, and added learning to his
lips. He gave reproofs of instruction, which, by
his Master’s blessing, were the way of life. He
walked so with God that his conversation shone to
the glory of his heavenly Father. He had a large
measure of the Spirit of God, by which he knew the
deep things of God. And it was given him to
know the mysteries of the kingdom of God. He
had a divine experimental understanding of the
Scriptures, of the work of conversion, and cases of
conscience; so that they whose ears heard him
blessed him. He was a Caleb indeed, who followed the
Lord fully in his ministry—in prison, in banishment,
in strange lands, and unto death. Even the haters
of godliness were forced to own that God was in
him of a truth, and that he kept his integrity. It
is not my design to praise men, and, therefore, I
will drop this subject, though it be a large field;
[and shall] only further observe, that I never knew
one that came his length, and I wish I had ground
to believe that I shall yet know them. I cannot
forget him who was the Bridegroom’s friend; who,
when I was lying in my blood, told me of my hazard,
and where there was help for me; and, with the
authority of his Master, charged me not to delay,
showing me that delays, in a matter of so great
importance, came from the devil. He preached
Christ and conversion to me in private conference,
which had blessed effects on me. When under the
greatest trouble I ever felt with respect to the case
of my soul, in March 1677, he being then a prisoner
at F ones, I went to speak to him. I was like one
dumb, and could not utter one word of my case to
him; yet he spake to me as if I had told him of it,
and said, when I parted with him, ‘Fear not, ye
seek Jesus.’ IVhich word beget some hopes in me,
which did not altogether leave me, until I got the

1 Mr. Hog died on the 4th of January 1692.
i pare me for his death.
i thoughts were taken up with him; and these words

manifestation of Christ to my soul, which was within
six weeks afterwards. Yea, I do not remember any
time I saw him but I got good by him, and in the
end more than in the beginning. I cannot show at
large what was the exercise of my spirit upon hear-
ing of his death. When it was told me, I spoke
not a word, till I went to the Lord in secret and
mourned before him. I was four days much
troubled, but strove against excessive grief ; and I
have reason to bless my Bock, who gave me a com-
posed frame of spirit, and made my soul to profit
by the death of this blessed man. His removal
made the earth desolate in my esteem, and raised
my affections from things below to things above,
where Christ and the spirits of just men made per-
fect are. In my mourning I was made to bless the
Lord, who had put an end to the sufferings of his
faithful servant, and to submit to his will who had
said, ‘He that will be my servant, let him follow
me; and where I am, there shall my servant be.’ I
remembered, to my comfort, how this blessed man,
the last day I saw him, kindly embraced me, and
rejoicing in spirit, said tome, ‘You and I shall be
together with the Lord for ever.’ That night, being
the last night I was in his house, my sleep departed
from me; upon which I rose at three o’clock in the
morning, and had two hours of sweet communion
with God in prayer. After that time I
did not see this blessed man’s face any more. He
being very sick that morning, and not fit for speak-
ing, my husband and I left him. I then looked on
what was given me that morning as given to pre-
The day before he died, my
in Job were brought to my mind in relation to him,
‘that he should go to his grave in a full age, as a
shock of corn cometh in, in his season ;’ which was
quickly fulfilled. Having served God in his genera-
tion, he went to his grave in peace, and pleasantly
gave up the ghost. Though he endured much pain
in his body before, yet at the hour of his death he
bad case, and went out of the world praising and
rejoicing.”
From the whole of Mrs. Campbell’s diary, it is
evident that she greatly delighted in secret prayer;
and to find time for that duty, she was in the habit
of rising very early, that the exercises of devotion
might be no obstruction to her performing such
household duties as devolved upon her. “ Some of
her acquaintance expressed surprise that she who
had time at her command, and was not obliged to
labour, should so abridge her hours of sleep; to
which she replied, that she did not wish to give the
enemies of religion occasion to say that she neglected

160 THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.




her worldly matters through attention to religious
duties.” ‘
The concluding part of her diary contains few
facts respecting her subsequent history. It is chiefly
occupied in describing her religious experience.
Writing towards the latter part of her life, she
complains that she had been “for several years
seeking the Lord, and still tossed with fears that the
foundation was not right ;” and that “after several
years, when the church was filled with Presbyterian
ministers, her darkness and deadness became more
dreadful to her, so that ordinances were to her for
the most part no small burden. ‘When I spoke to
ministers,” she adds, “they all said my help was not
to be found in them. Yet this was observable, that
such as were most zealous for the purity and the
interests of Christ, were most comforting to my soul
in public and private duties, but they could not cure
my wound. Therefore I continued solitary for many
days.” During this period she was in a very weak
state of health, and her bodily indis position, combined
with a melancholy temperament—for she informs
us that her “natural temper inclined to melancholy ”
--no doubt contributed greatly to produce those
unhappy apprehensions with respect to her interest
in Christ, which so greatly afflicted her. At last,
however, she was relieved, by being enabled to take
a more just and encouraging view of the gospel.
“After continuing,” says she, “a considerable time
in- this way, thus tossed with tempests, and not
comforted, some words of Scripture were brought to
my mind, which were made use of for keeping me
from utterly despairing and giving over, viz.: ‘I
came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent-
ance.’—‘Look unto me, all ye ends of the earth, and
be ye saved.’—‘ The whole need not a physician, but
they that are sick.’ Thus, in my extremity, my spirit
was in some measure supported. But afterwards,
when new darkness and fears filled my soul, I was
no ways able to draw comfort from these words,
unless they were conveyed with new power. On a
certain night, after sad and affecting fears, which
men or angels could not allay, these words came
with power to my soul, ‘Be careful for nothing; but
in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with
thanksgiving, make your requests known unto God;
and the peace of God, which passeth all understand-
ing, shall keep your hearts and minds by Jesus
Christ.’ 0 ! how was my weary soul made to behold,
in prayer, a wonderful beauty and glory in the deep
contrivance of infinite free love, displayed to guilty
sinners in a Mediator, whose voice my soul was made

to hear in these words.” In this way she was at
length delivered from these distressing fears. “I
was particularly informed,” says her grandson,
Mr. James Calder, of Croy, “by the above-named
Mrs. Jean Taylor, who resided with her from the
end of the persecution till her decease, that she
attained to very great stability with respect to the
state of her soul, and a glorious sunshine of spiritual
comfort and joy in the Lord for some years before
her death.” And when the last enemy approached,
she was not only calm and resigned, but expressed
a holy exultation and triumph of soul. The dark
valley of the shadow of death had lost all its terrors
to her, and she descried beyond it the land of ever-
lasting light, purity, and happiness. A little before
she expired, being in the full possession of her
reason, and enjoying a celestial tranquillity of mind,
“ she called on her pious attending friends,” to use
again the words of Mr. Calder, “to sing with her
once more on earth the praises of her best Beloved ;
in which exercise she joined with particular ardour,
insomuch that the sweetness, the melody, and eleva
tion of her voice were distinguished by all who were
present. Then having spoken a sentence or two, in
the language of a triumphant faith, with eyes lifted
up to heaven, and arms stretched out, this heaven-
born soul quitted its cottage of clay with a smile,
and sprang forward to meet her celestial Bridegroom,
who was now come to receive her into the beatific
embracements of his everlasting love.” 1
Mrs. Campbell had twelve children. In her diary,
she makes an allusion to her son John, who was
born about September 1692.2 Another of her sons,
Hugh, became a minister of the gospel.3 As to her
other children, we are ignorant even of their names,
except of one of her daughters, Jean, respecting
whose descendants, as has been said before, we have
been favoured with some interesting facts, communi-
cated by Mr. Russell, of Stamford, Canada WVest;
who, after stating that Mrs. Campbell had twelve
children, and that he can furnish no information
respecting any of her other children, or their descend-
ants, save her daughter Jean, named after h er intimate
and godly companion Jean Taylor, adds, “Jean was
married to a Mr. Calder, a minister somewhere in
the north. She and her husband died leaving five
young children. One of them, named James, was
for many years minister of Croy, Nairnshire. Another
of them, named Grisell, was married to Robert
Falconer, merchant, N aim; and a third, named Lilias,


k and placed under the care of Jean Taylor after the
I death of her parents, died in her fifth year, old and
1 Traditional information communicated by the Rev. John Russell,
Stamford, Canada West.
‘A
1 The Religious Monitor, vol. ix., p. 131.
2 Ibid, vol. ix., pp. 34-2, 343. 3 Ibid., vol. ix., p. 13].


MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN AND MARGARET WILSON.
161


_.
mature in Christian attainments. The other two
whose names I cannot give, died unmarried; but
though they have left no name on earth, they are
said to have been such as to leave no doubt that
their names are written in heaven. The Rev. James
Calder, of Grey, Mrs. Campbell’s grandson, was so
esteemed in his day, that he was called the Hervey
of the north. He had three sons ministers of the
Church of Scotland. Hugh was his successor in
Grey; Charles 1 was minister in Urquhart, the imme-
diate predecessor of Dr. M‘Donald; and John was
settled in a parish in the south. The Rev. Hugh
Calder had a son, named Alexander, ordained his col-
league and successor before he had completed the age
of 21. This youth was a burning and shining light,
but died when men were only beginning to rejoice
in his light, and to magnify the grace of God that was
in him.

1For some interesting notices of Mr. Charles Calder, see Memoirs
of the Rev. Alexander Stewart, D.D., one of the ministers of Canon-
gate, Edinburgh, pp. 207-211, 290-295.
I
The Rev. Charles Calder had a daughter 1
l.
married to the late Rev. Dr. Stewart, formerly of
Dingwall, and afterwards of the Canongate church,
Edinburgh. Grisell Calder, granddaughter of Mrs.
Campbell, left a son of the same name with his fa-
‘ ther, Robert Falconer, and a daughter, named Mary.
Robert was for many years sheriff of the county of
l\airn, and died nearly thirty years ago, leaving two
sons and two daughters. His sister, Mary Falconer,
was married to the Rev. Henry Clark, minister of
the Antiburgher seceder congregation of Boghole, in
the county of Nairn. She died about the same time
with her brother; and her only surviving descendant
is she who, for twenty-three years, has been the
companion of my cares and labours in Canada.
Imperfect as this account is, you will not fail to
observe, how God has been graciously please
render the descendants of that eminently pious
woman, and their immediate relatives, eminently
instrumental in publishing that gospel for which she
suffered, when it was rare, and therefore precious, in
that part of our native country.”
4-n
0U

MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN
THE years 1684: and 1685 were years of terrible suffer-
ing to the Covenanters. The history of these years
is written in letters of blood, and they were empha-
tically called, by the sufferers, The till/my time. The
savage ruffians, who were scouring the country like
incarnate demons, hunted the poor helpless victims
of their cruelty like wild beasts, over moors and
mountains. If they met with a person who refused
to answer their questions, or who did not satisfy
them in his answers ; or if they found another reading
the Bible; or observed a third apparently alarmed
or attempting to escape, they reckoned all such
persons fanatics, and in many instances shot them
dead on the spot. The devil had gone forth, having
great wrath, as if knowing that his time was short.
Patrick I'Valker remarks, that during these two years,
eighty persons were shot in the fields, in cold blood;
and he further says, “ Since that time, some that
write of court affairs of Britain for twenty of these
years, assert that the very design of that killing
time was to provoke the Lord’s people in the west
of Scotland to rise in arms in their own defence, as
at Pentland, Bothwell, and Ayr’s Moss, that they
might get the sham occasion to raise fire and sword
in the west, to make it a hunting field, as the Duke ‘
of York had openly threatened, saying, ‘There was

AND MARGARET WILSON.
no other way of rooting fanaticism out of it.’ ” ‘ But
whatever may be as to this, the ferocity of the per-
secutors had risen to an unprecedented height,
creating general alarm, and threatening to wear out
the saints of the Most High.
We are now to narrate the history of one of the
bloody scenes enacted during the last of these years—-
the year1685—the scene of the judicial murder of two
blameless, inoffensive, and pious females, Margaret
M‘Lauchlan,‘~’ an aged widow, and Margaret Wilson,
a young girl, who were drowned in the tide at the
mouth of the river Blednoch, which runs into the
sea about a hundred yards to the south of the town
of W'igton, in Lower Galloway. The tragieal fate
of Isabel Alison and Marion Harvey has already
been brought under the notice of the reader; and
the case before us is no less touching, whether we
consider the advanced age of the one sufferer and
the youth of the other, or the kind of death to which
they were subjected, or the shocking barbarity of
their ruthless murderers, or the undaunted courage
with which they suffered and yielded up their spirits
to God.

1 Biograph. Presby., vol. i., p. 302.
2 Or Lauciilison which is the name given herin her petition to the
prIi-y counciL
Y




16 Av
9
THE COVENANT.
THE LADIES or



MARGARET WILsoN, the younger of the two
martyrs, who was only about eighteen years of age
at the time of her death, was daughter of Gilbert
Wilson, farmer, of Glenvernock, the property of the
Laird of Castlcstewart, in the parish of Penningham,
in I'Vigtonshire. He was in good outward circum-
stances; and his farm, which was excellent soil, and
in the best condition, was well stocked with sheep
and cattle. Both he and his wife were conformists
to prelacy, and regularly attended the ministry of
the curate of Penningham; nor could the govern
ment lay any thing to their charge. Their children,
however, which is rather remarkable, were, at an
early age, not only well acquainted with the prin-
ciples of religion, but, contrary to the example of
their parents, ardently attached to the persecuted
faith, and would on no consideration attend the min-
istry of the prelatic incumbent of the parish. On this
account, though scarcely of such age as rendered
them obnoxious to the law, they were searched for;
and, to secure their safety, were compelled to betake
themselves, like many others, to the desert solitudcs
of the upper part of Galloway. They were, infact,
treated in every respect as outlaws. Their parents
were forbidden, at their highest peril, to harbour
them, to supply their wants, or to have any inter-
course with them ; and were even commanded so far
to disregard natural affection, as to lodge informa-
tion against them, that they might be apprehended.
But the barbarous and unprincipled men who were
ravaging Wigtonshire did not stop at this. Mr.
IVilson being a man of substance, they looked with
a greedy eye upon his wealth; and, notwithstanding
his own compliance with prelacy, fined him for the
nonconformity of his children. In addition to this,
he was grievously harassed by parties of soldiers,
who, sometimes to the number of a hundred, would
come to his house, and not only live at free quarters,
but commit that wanton destruction upon his pro-
pcrty to which, by the fiereeness of their disposi-
tions, they were prompted. To hardships ‘of this
nature he was subjected for several years; and
these hardships, together with his frequent attend-
ance upon courts at Wigton, which was thirteen
miles distant from his own house, and at Edinburgh,
reduced him from comparative affluence to poverty.
So heavy, indeed, were his pecuniary losses-
amounting, at a moderate calculation, to upwards of
5000 merks—that, though before being thus pillaged,
he was one of the most substantial men in that part
of the country, he died about the year 1704: or
1705, in destitution, and his widow, who was alive
others which might be adduced, in which persons
of property, against whose loyalty and religion the
. government had nothing to object, were exposed to
the spoliation of their goods, and were even some-
times reduced to absolute penury, for the reeusancy
of those connected with them, and over whom they
had often no control. Loyal and conforming parents
were fined, and otherwise punished, for the noncon-
formity of their children; loyal and conforming
husbands for the nonconformity of their wives ;
loyal and conforming masters for the nonconformity
of their servants; loyal and conforming proprietors
for the nonconformity of their tenants. The troopers,
too, who, like licensed robbers, traversed the country,
in many cases pillaged, with indiscriminate wanton-
ness, such as were friendly to the government and
conformists to prelacy, and such as were not.
Margaret Wilson, and her sister, Agnes, who was
then only about thirteen years of age, at length fell
into the hands of the persecutors. In the beginning
of the year 1685, these two girls, to secure their
safety, were obliged to leave for some time their
father’s house, and, in company with their brother,
a youth of not more than sixteen years of age, and
other persecuted Wanderers, to seek shelter in the
mosses, mountains, and caves of Carrick, Nithsdale,
and Galloway. On the death of Charles II., when
the persecution was for a brief period relaxed, the
two sisters, leaving their hiding places, ventured to
come secretly to Wigton to visit some of their fellow-
sufi’erers in the same cause, and particularly the
aged Margaret M‘Lauchlan, whom they greatly
loved, and who was well qualified to minister com-
fort and counsel to them under their troubles. I-Iere
both of them were discovered and made prisoners,
through the treachery of a man named Patrick Stuart,
with whom they were personally acquainted, and who
professed to take a deep and friendly interest in
their welfare. This base fellow, from what motive it
is not said, but doubtless either from pure malignity
of disposition, or from the love of the paltry wages
given to informers, purposed to betray these friend-
less and unsuspecting girls. To find some plausible


ground of complaint against them, he, with much
apparent kindness, invited them to go with him and
partake of some refreshment, which being brought,
he proposed that they should drink the king’s
health. This, as he probably anticipated from what
he knew of their character, they modestly declined
to do; upon which he left them, and immediately
proceeded to the authorities of VVigton, to lodge
information against them. A party of soldiers was
in 1711, then very aged, subsisted upon the charity forthwith dispatched to apprehend them. The two
of her friends. This is one instance, among many I girls were cast into that abominable place called “the



MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN
AND MARGARET WILSON. 163



thieves’ hole,” and, after lying there for some time,
were removed to the prison in which their beloved
friend, Margaret M‘Lauchlan, who had been appre-
hended about the same time, or very shortly after,
was confined, and of whom we now proceed to give
some account.
MARGARET M‘LAUcnLAn, was the widow of John
Mulligen or Millikin, carpenter, a tenant in the
parish of Kirkinner, in the shire of Galloway, in the
farm of Drumjargan, belonging to Colonel Vans of
Barnbarroeh ; and she had now nearly reached the
venerable age of seventy.l She was a plain country
woman, but superior to most women of her station in
religious knowledge; blameless in her deportment,
and a pattern of virtue and piety. Being strictly
Presbyterian in her principles, she had regularly
absented herself from hearing the curate of the parish
of Kirkinner ; she had also attended the sermons of
the proscribed ministers, and had afforded shelter
and relief to her persecuted nonconforming relations
and acquaintances in their wanderings and distresses.
Honourable as was all this to her character, it was
in those days of oppression regarded as highly
criminal; and, on this account, she suffered much
in her property, and at last was apprehended on
the Sabbath-day, when engaged in the exercise of
family worship in her own dwelling, the day of rest
being now the season when the persecutors were
most active in searching for “the fanatics,” and
often most successful in discovering them. She
was immediately carried to prison, in which she lay
for a long time, and was treated with great harsh-
ness, not being allowed a fire to warm her, nor a
bed upon which to lie, nor even an adequate supply
of food to satisfy the cravings of nature.
When Margaret M‘Lauchlan, Margaret \Vilson,
and her sister were apprehended, it was demanded
of them, as a test of their loyalty, that they should
swear the abjuration oath. This was an oath abjuring
a manifesto published by the Society People, or the
Cameronians, on the 8th of November 1684',2 entitled
“ The Apologctic Declaration and Admonitory Vindi-
cation of the True Presbyterians of the Church of
Scotland, especially anent Intelligencers and In-
formers.” In this manifesto, after expressing their
adherence to their former declarations, in which they
disowned the authority of Charles Stuart, and declared
war against him and his accomplices; and after testify-
ing that they “utterly detest and abhor that hellish

principle of killing all who differ in judgment or
persuasion from them ;” they declare it to be their
purpose to punish, according to their power, and
according to the degree of the offence, such as should
stretch forth their hands against'them by shedding
their blood on account of their principles, or willingly
give such information as should lead thereto. This
step we do not undertake to vindicate, it being
“ calculated, notwithstanding all their qualifications,
and in spite of all the precautions they might use,
to open a door to lawless bloodshed, and to give
encouragement to assassination. At the same time,
it is impossible to condemn them with great severity,
when we reflect that they were cast out of the pro-
tection of law, driven out of the pale of society, and
hunted like wild beasts in the woods and on the
mountains, to which they had fled for shelter. It
is also to be noticed that what they chiefly aimed at
was to inspire their persecutors with a wholesome
terror ;‘~’ and this object was to a considerable degree
gained in regard to the more active and malignant
informers, who dared not now, as they had done
before, to dog the footsteps and discover to the
soldiers the hiding places of men, whom intolerable
oppression had driven to desperation. The more
virulent and persecuting of the curates in N ithsdale
and Galloway, were also so panic-struck on the
publication of the paper, as to leave their parishes
and seek safety elsewhere for a time. On the
government the effect was different: it roused their
fury to the utmost height. 011 the 22d of November,
they passed an act, which Wodrow justly calls a
“bloody act,” ordaining “ every person, who owns,
or will not disown, the late treasonable declaration
upon oath, whether they have arms or not, to be
as;

1 The inscription on her grave-stone in the churchyard of Wigton
makes her age 63; but in her petition to the prity council, she says
that she is “ about the age of three score [and] ten years.”
2 It was fixed upon the market crosses of several burghs, and upon
a great many church doors.
immediately put to death; there being present two
witnesses, and the person or persons having com-
mission for that effect ”3—an act on which is to be
charged the blood of not a few who were shot in the
fields by officers, and even by private sentinels, who
pretended to be invested with such powers. On
the following day, they gave commission, with a
justieiary power, to certain noblemen, gentlemen, and
military officers, to convocate all the inhabitants,
men and women above fourteen years of age (in
certain parishes named), to execute, by military
commission upon the place, such of them as owned
the “late traitorous declaration ; ” and also to
1 M‘Crie’s Review of Tales of My Landlord in his Miscellaneous
Writings, p. 443.
2 “ The only instances in which it is alleged, so far as we recollect,
that it led to murder, were those of two soldiers at Swine-Ahbay, and
of the curate of Carsphairn. The last of these was publicly dis-
owned and condemned by the Society People.”—-1bid. p. 444.
3 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 155



lot THE mums or
THE COVENANT.



execute the sentence of death on such as refused to
disown it, after trying them by a jury. An oath was
also framed abjuring the Apologetic Declaration, and
hence called “the abjuration oath,” which all, both
men and women, above the age of sixteen years, were
required to swear, under the pains of high treason.
Margaret M ‘Lauchlan, and the two youthful sisters,
Margaret and Agnes Wilson, refused to swear the
abjuration oath. They were accordingly brought
to a formal trial before Sir Robert Grierson, of Lagg,l
Colonel David Graham (brother to the bloody
Claverhouse), Major I/Vindram, Captain Strachan,
and Provost Cultrain at Wigton, on the 13th of
April 1685. In their indictment, they were charged
with being at the battle of Bothwell Bridge, at the
skirmish of Ayr’s Moss, at twenty field conventi-
cles, and at an equal number of house conventicles.
The two first charges were notoriously false. None
of the panels had ever been within many miles
of either of these places. It is, besides, to be



noticed that at the time of the battle of Bothwell
Bridge, the two girls were mere children—the one
only about seven years of age, and the other only
about eleven or twelve—while sixty-five years had
passed over the head of the aged widow; and it
cannot for a moment be supposed, that two girls of
so tender an age, or that an humble inoffensive female,
who had nearly reached the utmost limits of human
earthly existence, could be concerned in that insur-
rection. The same remark applies to the skirmish
at Ayr’s Moss, which took place only a little more
than a year after the rising at Bothwell Bridge. The
other charges brought against these sufferers may
have been true in part or in whole; but nothing
was proved against them. Being again required to
swear the abjuration oath, all of them refused to
swear it; and this refusal seems to have been the
main ground upon which they were condemned.
After the mockery of a trial, a jury was found so
unprineipled as to bring in a verdict of guilty against
the whole three; and the sentence pronounced upon
them was, that, upon the 11th of May, they should
be tied to stakes fixed within the flood mark in the
water of Blednoch, near IVigton, where the sea flows
at high water, there to be drowned. They were
commanded to receive their sentence on their bended
knees; and refusingto kneel, they were pressed down
by force till it was pronounced.1 But they were by
no means daunted ; they heard the cruel sentence
with much composure, and even with cheerful
countenances, accounting it their honour that they
were called to suffer in the cause of Christ.
This extraordinary sentence could not but produce
great excitement in Wigton, and the friends of the
three females were plunged into the deepest distress.
The afflicted father of the two girls, on going to
Edinburgh, was allowed to purchase at the price of
IOOZ. sterling, the life of his younger daughter, in
consequence of her tender age. When in Edinburgh,
he would also, no doubt, use every means in his power
to save the life of his other daughter; and his inter-
cessions, as we shall afterwards see, had a inollifying
effect upon the members of the privy council. At the
same time, Margaret VVilson’s friends did all they
could to prevail with her to swear the abjuration
oath, and to promise to attend the ministry of the
curate of the parish in which she lived, but without
effect; for by no solicitations would she surrender
her convictions of truth and duty, whatever it might
cost her. During her imprisonment, she wrote a long
letter to her relations, highly honourable to her
character. It was full of the deep and affecting
sense which she had of God’s love to her soul, and


1 Of these commissioners, Grierson, of Lagg, has obtained the most
infamous celebrity in the annals of the persecution. So cruel ‘and
brutal was his temper, that he seems to have felt an infernal delight
in murdering, in cold blood, the unarmed and unresisting peasantry
of his country. In 1685, he shot five Covenanters dead on the spot,
without giving them leave to pray; and when one of them, Mr. Bell,
of Whiteside, who was acquainted with him, begged for a quarter of
an hour to prepare for death, he remorselessly answered, “What the
devil! have you not got time enough to prepare since Bothwell? ”
Among the Wodrow MSS., we have met with some specimens of his
profanity, but they are too shocking to be here repeated—(Vol.
xxxvii. 4t0. no. 1.) He outlived the persecution nearly half a
century, having died on the 23d of December 1733. Many of the
eruelties which he perpetrated have been recorded in his Elegy, or,
A Mock Lamentation of the Prince of Darkness upon his Death;
which is supposed to have been written long before the time of his
demise. Of this production, the following lines, taken from the 21st
edition, are a specimen :—
What fatal news is this I hear!
On earth who shall my standard bear?
For Lag, who was my champion brave,
Is dead, and now laid in his grave.
The want of him is a great grief;
lie was my manager and chief;
He bore my image on his brow,
My service he did still avow.
He had no other Dietie
But this world, the flesh, and me;
Unto us he did homage pay,
And did us worship every day.
In Galloway he was well known,
His great exploits in it were shown ;
He was my general in that place;
He did the Presbyterians chase;
Thro’ moss, and moor, and many a hag,
They were pursued by my friend Lag.
He many a saint pursu’d to death;
He feared neither hell nor wrath.
llis conscience was so cauteriz’d,
I-Ie refus’d nothing that I pleas’d:
For which he’s had my kindness still,
Since he his labours did fulfil.
Any who read the Scriptures through,
I’m sure they’ll find but very few
Of my best friends that ’s mentioned there,
That could with Grier of Lagg compare.”
The History of Galloway, vol. ii., pp. 281, ‘282.
1 Cloud of Witnesses, p. 301.


MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN AND MARGARET WILSON.
165


!
expressed an entire resignation to his sovereign
disposal. It also contained a vindication of her
refusal to save her life by swearing the abjuration
oath, and by engaging to conform to prelacy; written
with a cogeney of argument, and a solidity of judg-
ment, far above her years and education.1 The aged
Margaret M‘Lauehlan, it would appear, exhibited in
prison less heroic resolution than her youthful com!
panion. She was induced to send a petition to the
privy council, praying them to recall the sentence of
death pronounced upon her, acknowledging the justice
of the sentence, and expressing her willingness to
take the abjuration oath, and regularly to attend her
parish church. The petition is as follows :—
“ Unto his Grace, my Lord High Commissioner,
and remanent Lords of his Majesty’s Most
Honourable Privy Council—The Humble
Supplication of Margaret Lauchlison, now
prisoner in the Tolbooth of Wigton ;
“ Snownrn,
“That whereas I being justly condemned
to die by the lords commissioners of his majesty’s
most honourable privy council and justiciary, in a
court holden at Wigton the 13th day of April instant,
for my not disowning that traitorous Apologetical
Declaration lately affixed at several parish churches
within this kingdom, and my refusing the oath of
abjuration of the same, which was occasioned by
my not perusing the same, and now I having con-
sidered the said Declaration, do acknowledge the
same to be traitorous, and tends to nothing but
rebellion and sedition, and to be quite contrary unto
the written Word of God, and am content to abjure
the same with my whole heart.
“ May it therefore please your grace, and remanent
lords, as said is, to take my case to your serious
consideration, being about the age of threescore
[and] ten years, and to take pity and compassion on '
me, and recall the foresaid sentence so justly pro-
nounced against me, and to grant warrant to any
your grace thinks fit to administrat the oath of
abjuration to me, and, upon my taking of it, to order
my liberation; and your supplieant shall live here-
after a good and faithful subject in time coming,
and shall frequent the ordinances and live regularly,
and give what other obedience your grace and
remanent lords shall prescribe thereanent, and your
petitioner shall ever pray.
“Written by William Moir.
“W. Dunbar, witness.
“Will. Gordoun, witness.” 2


Yielding to the prayer of this petition, and to the
representations of Margaret Wilson’s father, the
privy council granted a reprieve to these two females,
and recommended them to the secretaries of state
for his majesty’s pardon. The act of council is as
follows :—
“I‘ldinburgh, April 30, 1685.
“ The lords of his majesty’s privy council do hereby
reprieve the execution of the sentence of death, pro-
nounced by the justices against Margaret Wilson
and Margaret Lauchlison, until the . . . day
of . . . and discharge the magistrates of Wig-
ton from putting of the said sentence to execution
against them until the foresaid day; and recommend
the said Margaret Wilson and Margaret Lauchlison
to the lords secretaries of state, to interpose with
his most sacred majesty for the royal remission to
them.” ‘
But, notwitl'istanding this reprieve, these two
women were, on the day appointed—the 11th of
May—conducted from the tolbooth of W igton to
the place of execution, amidst a numerous crowd of
spectators, who had assembled to witness so unusual
a sight. They were guarded by Major Windram 2
with a company of soldiers, and, on arriving at the
place, were fastened to stakes fixed in the sand,
between high and low water mark. Margaret
M‘Lauchlan, who is said to have now manifested
great fortitude, though, when in prison, she had
offered to make concessions, was tied to the stake
placed nearest the advancing tide, that she might
perish first; for the obvious purpose of terrifying
into submission the younger sufferer, who was bound
to a stake nearer the shore. The multitude looked
on, thrilled with horror. The flood gradually made
its way to the aged matron, rising higher and higher
at each successive wave, “ mounting up from knee,
waist, breast, neck, chin, lip,” until it choked
and overwhelmed her. Margaret Wilson witnessed
the whole scene, and knew that she would soon
share the same fate; but her steadfastness remained

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 248.
2 Warrants of Privy Council.
1 Register of Acts ofPi-ivy Council.
2 It is not unworthy of notice, as affording a singular instance of
the sovereignty of Divine grace, that several of this pcrsecutor’s
children gave pleasing evidence of early piety. Mr. James Renwick,
in a letter “to the Honourable Mr. Robert Hamilton,” dated July 9,
168 L, says, “A grand persecutor, called Major Windram, had three
children, who within a little while of [each] other died—one of them
a very young boy, and two daughters come to the years of discretion,
who died very sweetly and pleasingly—declaring that the Lord’s
hand was stretched forth against them because of the hand their
father hath in shedding the blood of the saints; and ohtested him,
before God, that he would quit the course he followed; which things
had some, though no lasting effect upon him.”—Renwick’s Letters,
p. 81.





[66
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




unshaken; and so far from exhibiting any symptoms
of terror, she displayed a calm courage, rivalling that
of the most intrepid martyrs. When her fellow-
sufferer was struggling in the waters with the age-
nies of death, a heartless by-stander, perhaps one of
the soldiers, asked the youthful Margaret, to whom
‘the tide had not yet advanced so far, what she
thought of the spectacle before her. “What do I
see,” she answered, “ but Christ, in one of his mem-
bers, wrestling there? Think you that we are the
sufferers? No, it is Christ in us ; for he sends none
a warfare upon their own charges.”

Drowning of Margaret M‘Lauchlan and Margaret Wilson.
When bound to the stake, Margaret Wilson sang
several verses of the 25th Psalm, beginning at the
7th verse :—
“ Let not the errors of my youth,’
Nor sins remembered be:
In mercy for thy goodness’ sake,
O Lord, remember me.
The Lord is good and gracious,
IIe upright is also:
He therefore sinners will instruct
In ways that they should go.” &c.
She then repeated, with a calm and even cheerful
voice, a portion of the 8th chapter of Paul’s Epistle
to the Romans; and, through a steadfast faith in the
great and consoling truths exhibited in that sublime
chapter, and in the interesting verses of the psalm she
had sung, she was enabled to meet death with un-
shrinking courage, looking forward with humble hope
to that exceeding great and eternal weight of glory,
which would do more than counterbalance all her suf-
ferings in the cause of Christ. She next engaged in
prayer; and, while so employed, the waters had risen
upon her so high as to reach her lips, and she began
to struggle with the agonies of death. At this
moment, by the command of her murderers, who


pretended to be willing to preserve her life, provided
she should swear the abjuration oath,l the cords
which bound her to the stake were unloosened, and
she was pulled out of the waters. As soon as she
recovered and was able to speak, it was asked her,
by Major Windrain’s orders, if she would pray for
the king. With the christian meekness which formed
so engaging a feature in her character, she answered,
“I wish the salvation of all men, and the damnation
of none.” “Dear Margaret,” exclaimed a friend,
deeply moved with pity, and anxious to save her
life, “say, God save the king! say, God save the
king!” With the greatest composure, she replied,
“ God save him, if he will; for it is his salvation I
desire.’’2 Immediately her friends called out to
1 We say, pretended ,- because it may fairly be questioned, from
what we know of the character of her persecutors, whether her life
would have been spared, even though she had sworn the abjuration
oath. The other questions which it was common to put to the
Covenanters might also have been put to her, as, “ Will you renounce
the Covenant?) ”-—“ Was the killing of the archbishop of St. Andrews
murder? ”-“Was the rising of Bothwell Bridge rebellion ? ”—and
failing to answer any of these questions in the affirmative, she might,
after all, have been drowned by these blood-thirsty men.
2 It is therefore a mistake to say, as Chambers has done in his
Picture of Scotland ("01. i., pp. 273, 274), that our two martyrs




MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN
AND MARGARET WILSON. 167




Windram, “ Sir, she hath said it! she hath said it !”
But with this her murderers were not satisfied.
Lagg, we are told, bellowed out, “Damned bitch!
we do not want such prayers; tender the oath to
her ;”‘ and VVindram, coming near her, demanded
that she should swear the abjuration oath, else she
should be again instantly cast into the sea. She
needed not long to deliberate; in an instant her
resolve was taken; preferring to die rather than do
what she believed would be a denial of Christ and
his truth, she firmly replied, “ I will not; I am one
of Christ’s children; let me go.” And so, after her
sufferings were thus inhumanly protracted, and after
being thus cruelly tantalized with the hope of life,
she was, byWindram’s orders, thrust into the waters,
which speedily closed over her for the last time.
These females, it would appear, as has been said
before, were executed in disregard of the reprieve
granted them by the privy council, who recom~
mended them to the royal clemency. The day to
which they were reprieved is left a blank in the
Records of the Council; but there is every reason
to believe that it would be to a later day than the
11th of May, as at that period, the facilities of com-
munication being greatly less than at present, there
would hardly be time, betwixt the 30th of April and
the 11th of May, to get a return from London. It
seems, therefore, highly probable that our two mar-
tyrs were, by the brutality of their udges and the
magistrates of W'igton, executed without orders from
the government. But of the blood of these women
the government were not altogether guiltless. They
had ordained the abjuration oath to be put to all
persons above sixteen years of age, whether male or
female; and such as refused to swear it, were liable
to be tried and punished capitally. They had invested
inferior officers with the power of trying and con-
demning such as refused it. They had even given
instructions to their commissioners, to condemn such
women as had been signally active in supporting the
Apologetic Declaration to be drowned ; ‘2 and though,
in the present instance, they granted a reprieve to
these condemned women, and recommended them to
the mercy of the king, yet, when their unprincipled
and hardened officers executed the sentence contrary
to orders, they did not even censure them for such
a deed of revolting atrocity.
The bodies of the two martyrs, on being taken
from the waters, were buried in the churchyard of

“ were offered their lives when at the stake, on condition of saying,
‘God save the king,’ and on refusing were left to be overwhelmed
by the rising waves.”—-Sec Appendix, no. x.
1 Aikman’s Annals of the Persecution, p. 518.
'2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 165.

1Vigton. A stone was afterwards erected to their
memory. The particular date of its erection cannot
now be ascertained, but, from the freedom of its
language, it is evident that it was after the Revolu-
tion. It is placed in the wall of the church, and
the inscription upon it, copied verbatim ea‘ Zz'z‘eratz'm,
is as follows :—
IIERE LIES MARGARAT LACHLANE
“'IIO \VAS BY UNJUST LAW’ SENTENCED
TO DYE BY LAGG STRACIIANE WIXRAME
AND GRAME AND TYED TO A STAKE W'ITH
IN THE FLOOD FOR HER *
ME MENTO MORI
* ADHERENCE TO SCOTLAND’S REFORMATION
COVENANTS NATIONAL AND soLEnN LEAGUE
AGED 63. 1685.
HEU'HO QEUTVN'HQS
LET EARTH AND STONE STILL WITNESS BRAKE
THEIR LYES A VIRGINE MA RTYR HERE.
MURT'IIERD FOR OWNING CHRIST SUPREME,
HEAD OF HIS CHURCH AND NO MORE CRIME
BUT NOT ABJURING PRESBYTERY,
AND HER NOT O‘VNING PRELACY,
THEY HEB. CONDEMND, BY UNJUST LATV ;
OF HEAVEN NOR HELL TIIEY STOOD NO AW.
WITHIN THE SEA TYD TO A STAKE;
SHE SUFFERED FOR CHRIST JESUS SAKE
THE ACTORS OF THIS CRUEL CRIME
WAS LAGG. STRACHAN. WINRAM. AND GRAHAME.
NEITHER YOUNG YEARS, NOR YET OLD AGE
COULD STOP THE FURY OF THERE RAGE.
IILRE LYLS iranenn'r wu SON
Douenrnn 'ro GILBERT WILSON
IN GLENVERNOCII Wno was
DROUND ANNO 1085
AGhD 18
It may here be sl ated, that a monument, in honour
of these and other martyrs whose ashes repose in
the churchyard of TVigton, is about to be erected.
A sermon was preached, by the Rev. Dr. WVilliam
Symington of Glasgow, in the parish church of
Wigton, on Sabbath, the 211th of September 1848,
in aid of a fund for carrying that object into effect.
The subject chosen by the preacher was the opening
of the fifth seal, Rev. vi. 9-11; and, in an address
at the close of public worship, he thus vindicates the
erection of such memorials to the memory of our
martyrs :—“ Let not our object be mistaken. It is
not, by any means, to cauonize the sufferers; or to
imitate the conduct of the church of Rome, by
cherishing a superstitious and undue veneration for
departed saints. Our object is to draw attention
to the principles, rather than to the persons, of the
martyrs. And this we propose to do by commemor-
ating their noble deeds, and their sufferings. We
affect to tell the simple tale of their martyrdom, and
to renew those touching memorials which are falling
into a state of decay and obliteration by the lapse
of time. The principle upon which we act, we
regard as distinctly recognized in the approved
example of saints, the statements of Holy “hit, and
the procedure of God himself. We have read of
‘the pillar of Rachel’s grave,’ reared by patriarchal
hands, ‘in the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem.’




168 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.



WVe cannot forget the declarations that ‘the righ-
teous shall be in everlasting remembrance,’ and that
‘the memory of the just is blessed;’ nor that one
of the marks of the Divine displeasure against the
wicked consists in ‘cutting off their memory from
the earth,’ and making ‘all their memory to perish.’
Nor can we suil’cr ourselves to overlook the circum-
stance, that the 12th chapter of the Epistle to the
Hebrews is just a noble monumental pile, raised by
the Spirit, in commemoration of elders who had
received a good report, and whose names, lest they
should pass away into oblivion, are legibly inscribed
on its surface.”
Chambers, in his Picture of Scotland, relates what
he calls “a strange and ridiculous story,” which is
told at Wigton, connected with the drowning of
these women. “One of the most active persons at
the execution,” says he, “was, it seems, the town
officer of Wigton, who, when the girls were raised
out of the water, and refused to save their lives by
the simple expression above mentioned [God save
the King], took his halbert, and, pressing them
down again into the water, exclaimed, with savage
glee, ‘Then, take another drink, my hearties.’
Heaven, for this, is said to have afflicted him with
an intolerable and unquenchable thirst, insomuch
that he never after durst venture abroad without
carrying along with him an enormous jar full of
water, wherewithal to gratify his unnatural appetite.
As he crawled about, with this singular load, people
used to pass him by with silent horror; for, though
nis misfortune might have been the result of disease,
it was, in that superstitious age, universally believed
to be the manifestation of Divine vengeance.” 1 This
traditionary anecdote we have given as we find it,
without vouehing for its truth. But the assertion of
this popular writer, that it was superstitious to regard
the calamity which befell this man, on the supposi—
tion that the story is true, as the manifestation of
Divine vengeance, since it might have been the
result of disease, is most certainly unsound in
theology. Even granting it to have been the result
of disease, this would not prove that it was not a
judgment of God; for disease, like every thing else,
is under his direction and control, and he can make
it the minister of his justice as well as any other
agent, even when it is brought on, not by any
supernatural infliction, but in the ordinary course
of nature. No doubt, in cases of this sort, a mis-
taken, an uncharitable, and even an impious inter-
pretation, may be put upon providence, in reference
to the calamities which befall our fellow-creatures.2


But still, it must be admitted by every observer of
providence, altogether apart from the authority of
revelation, that though wickedness, and even atro-
cious wickedness, may often pass unpunished in the
present life, yet there are instances in which it is
punished in the course of events, in so striking a
manner, as to extort, even from the most unthink-
ing, and the least inclined to superstition, the
acknowledgment that such visitations bear the
impress of the hand of a righteous God. “In the
Divine management of the fortuitous events of
life,” says Isaac Taylor, “there is, in the first
place, visible some occasional flashes of that retri-
butive justice which, in the future world, is to
obtain its long postponed and perfected triumph.
There are instances, which, though not very com-
mon, are frequent enough to keep alive the salutary
fears of mankind; wherein vindictive visitations
speak articulately in attestation of the righteous
judgment of God upon them that do evil. Out~
rageous villanies, or appalling profaneness, some-
times draw upon the criminal the instant bolt of
Divine wrath; and in so remarkable a manner, that
the most irreligious minds are quelled with a sudden
awe, and confess the fearful hand of God.1 ”
Another singular anecdote, connected with the
drowning of these women, has been preserved by

1 Pp. 273, 2’4.
2 As an example of this, we may quote the following passage from ,
one of Mr Robert Baillie’s letters. Writing to Mr. Spang, appa-
rently in June 1658, he says, “Mr. Gillespie remains there [in
London] sorely sick, some think in displeasure that his desires were
not granted. However, at his last going to Hamptoim Court, he got
no speech of the protector ; if this grieved him, I know not; but he
went immediately from l'lamptoun Court to Wombledoun, Lambert’s
house, being Saturday at night; and having engaged to preach on
Sunday morning, before sermon, he had five stools, and after his
painful preaching, fourscore before he rested; thereafter, for many
days, a great flux and fever, together with the breach of a huleer in
the guts, put him to the very brink of death. lllany thought it the
evident hand of God upon him, and would not have sorrowed for his
death. For myself, I was grieved, foreseeing the hurt of our college
by his removal.”—-(Baillie’s Letters and Journals, vol. iii., p. 356.)
Mr. Patrick Gillespie, who was then principal of the university of
Glasgow, was a zealous protester during the controversy between
the Resolutioners and the Protesters; and the men who are here
said to have viewed his illness as a judgment of God, were Resolu-
tioners. This accounts for their uncharitable and impious explanation
of the conduct of Divine providence in bringing that severe illness
upon Gillespie. It was the suggestion of the animosity of party
spirit; and it was substantially saying, that God was such an one as
themselves. It threw no light on God’s providence towards Gilles-
pie, but it threw light upon the temper of their own minds. It
indicated plainly enough, that had they been intrusted with the
government of the world, disease would soon have thinned the ranks
of the Protesters, or have even exterminated the whole of that
race. Had this been done, we would have had few martyrs during
the persecution of Charles IL; for the ministers who refused to
conform to Prelacy, and who suffered for nonconformity, were nearly
all Protesters; the most of the Resolutioners, though they had sworn
against Prelacy, having too little principle, and too little courage, to
make sacrifices for conscience’ sake. Happily for the Protesters,
the government of the world was in more merciful hands than in
those of the Resolutioners. It may be added, that Gillespie was
again restored to health.
1 Natural History of Enthusiasm, pp. 135, 136.


MARGARET M‘LAUCHLAN AND MARGARET WILSON.
169


the industrious Wodrow. Between nineteen and
twenty years after the Revolution, a daughter of
Margaret M‘Lauchlan dreamed, it would seem, that
her mother appeared to her and bade her go and
tell Provost Cultrain of Wigton, who was a very
active instrument in her death, and who was then
alive, that he must soon stand before the bar of the ;
great God, to give in his account. Within a few
months or a few weeks after this dream, the provost
died. Having gone, in the beginning of November
1708, to hold a justice court at Stranraer, he no‘
sooner stood up to make a speech when the court i
assembled, than his tongue faltered, and he fell
back. He was immediately carried to his lodg-g
ings, at which he died within a few days. Wodrow
had received some hints of this matter from Mr.
Henry Davidson, minister of Galashiels; ‘ but from his extreme care in authenticating, as far as possible,
the information communicated to him, he wrote a
letter to Mr. William Campbell, minister of Kirk-
inner, requesting him to examine Margaret M‘Lauch-
lan’s daughter, who was then alive, in reference to
her dream; and the answer which Mr. Campbell
returned is as follows :_ 2

“Rev. DEAR BROTHER,—— In compli-
ance with your desire anent Elizabeth Millikin’s
dream, know that I went and discoursed her this
day, in order to give you the genuine account of it.
The said Elizabeth dreamed, some weeks or months
before the quarter sessions that met in November
1708, that her mother, Margaret Lauchlison, came
to her, at the cross of Wigton, with garb, gesture,
and countenance that she had five minutes before
she was drowned in Blednoch, and said to her,
‘Elizabeth, go and warn Provost Cultrain that he ,
must shortly compear before the tribunal of the


from lVigton to the quarter session of
great God, to answer for his ways g’ and imme-
diately her sleep was broken, and it made such an
impression upon her, that she resolved, for her own
exoneration, and the provost’s edification, pru-
dently and meekly to communicate the said dream
to the said William Cultrain of Drummorral, with
the first convenience; but not finding or expecting
that, she told the dream to Bailie Lafries, Drum-
morral’s friend, being married to Lady Drummorral’s
1 sister, a man of age, gravity, and experience, and an
elder inl-Vigton; and solemnly desired and engaged
him to signify the said dream to the said Drum-
morral; and she doubted not but the said Bailie
Lafries did tell the said Drummorral. And, accord-
f ingly, in the beginning of November 1708, he rode
the
iustiees
of the shire, that met that time at Stranraer, and
there, on the vWednesday, at the court table, was
suddenly struck with a lethargy, was carried to
his quarters, and continued speechless till Satur-
day, the 8th of November, and then died.” 1
Mr. Campbell adds z-“ The said Elizabeth is poor
but pious; a widow indeed, the worthy daughter
of such an honoured martyred mother. It hath
pleased God lately to afllict her by a sore fall in her
walking home from this church ; and having a large
Bible under her arm, and falling with a great deal
of violence upon that side where her Bible was, it
has broken some of her ribs, and disables her for
business. I have been her acquaintance these six-
teen years. I know she is poor and straitened, but
I never heard her say she wanted any thing. If ye
please, procure and send Mr. Martin, bookseller at
Edinburgh, some supply.”

1 In a letter from him, dated August 29, 1717 ; Letters to
Wodrow, vol. x., 1M0, 110. 47. Mr. Davidson says, “ He [Provost Cul-
train] was acquainted with the dream some months before his death;
out he jested at it.”
2 The letter is dated April 11, 1718.
ULLU
1Letters to Wodrow, vol x., 4t0, no. 57. In a subsequent letter
' to Wodrow, dated Kirkinner, May 14, 1718, Mr. Campbell says,
“ Next morning, after I was favoured with yours, 1 dis-coursed
Elizabeth Millikin, but she cannot give you further satisfaction as
to the circumstances of that dream; only she dreamed it in her
own bed, in the town of Barnbarroch; and all the relations 01
Provost Cultrain and Bailie Lairies deny they know any thing of
the Bailie’s informing the Provost, or the Provost’s auswer.”-—Ihid.,
vol. x., 4to, no. 59.
Y





LADY ANNE MACKENZIE,
COUNTESS OF BALCARRES.
AFTERWARDS COUNTESS OF ARGYLL.

LADY ANNE hIACKENZIE was the eldest daughter
and coheiress of Colin, first Earl of Seaforth, by
his wife, Lady Margaret Seton, third daughter of
Alexander, first Earl of Dunfermline. In an old
MS, her father, who was the most powerful of the
Highland chiefs next to Argyll, is described as “a
most religious and virtuous Lord. He caused build
the Castle of Brahan, and [in] every barony of his
highlands caused build a church, and left a donation
to the town of Channorie, called Fortrose, to hold
up a grammar school. He was much liked by his
king and by all that ever was with him. Lady
Anne, in early life, lost her father, who died on the
15th of April 1633, leaving behind him another
daughter, Lady Jean. Lady Jean was married, first,
to John, master of Berriedale; and, secondly, to
Alexander, first Lord Duffus; having, to her first
husband, three sons, among whom was George, sixth
Earl of Caithness ; and to her second, four sons. She
died in childbed, on the 31st of March 1648. Lady
Anne and her sister Lady Jean were served heirs-
portioners of their father 011 the 29th of November
1636, and on the 28th of February 1637. As in
these retours Lady Anne is placed first, it may be
concluded that she was the eldest daughter. The
titles devolved on her father’s brother, George, who
thus became second Earl of Seaforth?
Lady Anne received, in her tender years, a scrip-
tural education, and her heart appears even then to
have been touched by Divine grace with love to
God, and engaged to attend in good earnest to the
things which belonged to her everlasting peace.
Besides the religious instructions received under the
domestic roof, she enjoyed the advantages of an
evangelical and faithful gospel ministry. She had
also opportunities of frequently mingling in the
society of such as feared God. Subjected to these
and other religious influences, she increased in piety
as she advanced in days and years ; growing in love
to God, in love to his service, and in love to those
who gave evidence of being his children. This we
learn from the references which Richard Baxter, the
celebrated nonconforniist divine, makes to her early
life, in a Dedicatory Epistle addressed to her, prefixed
n1
' to his treatise entitled, “The Mischiefs of Self-
ignorance and the Benefits of Self-acquaintance.”
Speaking of her soul as “replenished with the
precious fruits of the Spirit, and beautified with the
image of her Lord,” he says, “There you can peruse
the records of his mercy, and think with gratitude
and delight how he did first illuminate you, and draw
and engage your heart unto himself; what advantage
he got upon you, and what iniquity be prevented by
the mercies of your education, and how he secretly
took acquaintance with you in your youth ; how he
delivered you from worldly snares ; how he caused
you to savour the things of the Spirit; how he
planted you in a sound well-ordered church, where
he quickened and conducted you by a lively faith-
ful ministry, and watered his gifts by the constant
powerful preaching of his Word; where discipline
was for a defence ; and where your heart was warmed
with the communion of the saints; and where you
learned to worship God in spirit and in truth; and
where you were taught so effectually by God to
discern between the precious and the vile, and to
love those that are born of God, whom the world
knoweth not, that no subtleties or calumnies of the
serpent can unteach it you, or ever be able to separate
you from that love.” 1
In addition to early piety, Lady Anne, as she
advanced to the age of womanhood, possessed great
personal attractions, and a combination of the best
qualities which can adorn the female mind. David,
Lord Balcarres, who was married to her aunt—her
mother’s sister, Lady Sophia Seton, fourth daughter
of Alexander, first Earl of Dunfermline, and in whose
family, on paying them a visit, she occasionally staid
for some time, describes her as of a “mild nature
and sweet disposition,” “ and wise withal.” To this
nobleman she afterwards became more nearly related,
by her marriage with his son Alexander, her full
cousin, who was “ so hopeful a youth, that he had
the respect and love of all that knew him,” and who,
in 1650, became Earl of Balcarres.2 She had early
made a deep impression on the heart of Alexander,


1 Quoted in Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., p. 33.
2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii., p. 482.
1 Baxter’s Works, folio, London, 1707, vol. ii., p. 762.
. 2 He was served heir to his father on the 24th of October 1643;
j and on repairing to Charles II., upon the arrival of his majesty in
l Scotland in 1650, was created by him Earl of Balcarres.


COUN TESS OF BALCARRES.
171




and his affection for her he had long cherished,
without making it known either to herself or to any
one else. But, at length, about the close of the
year 1639, at which time she had been staying for
some time with his parents, the strength of his
passion overcoming, to a certain extent, the bashful
timidity of early and honourable love, he told both
his father and mother, three days before she left
them, which was in November, of his strong attach-
ment to her, that it had “ been rooted in his heart
this long time, and [that he] could conceal it no
longer.” He also told his mother that he “had
never shown any such thing to her by word,” and
earnestly desired her to speak to the young lady in
his behalf; which, however, she did not do, though
she afterwards wrote to her on the subject. His
addresses were cordially received by Lady Anne, who,
indeed, appears very soon to have been as deeply
smitten with the tender passion as himself. But, as
the proverb says, the course of true love seldom runs
smooth. Her uncle, the new Earl of Seaforth, from
motives of self-interest, was opposed to the union,
though it was highly agreeable to all the other friends I
of both parties. The hearts of the two lovers were,
indeed, too fully engaged for his opposition being
deemed a sufficient obstacle to the completion of their
wishes; but they were very desirous, if possible, to
secure his consent; and this occasioned an interesting
correspondence between the families, from which our
space, however, will permit us to give only one or
two extracts. The first letter in the series is from
the father of young Balcarres to the Earl of Lauder-
dale, dated November 1639, in which he informs
him of his son’s attachment to Lady Anne M‘Kenzie,
and of the Earl of Seaforth’s opposition to their
marriage, “ because he thought he had no new
alliance by it.” Lauderdale, in his reply, which is

dated 28th December, after expressing it as his
opinion, that the Earl of Seaforth, though she mar-
ried without his consent, would be bound to pay her §
the portion left her by her father’s will, notwith-v
standing the obligation it imposed upon her to marry
with the consent of her uncle, adds, “If the case
were my own, I would gladly go about to obtain his
consent; but if he should prove too difficile, I would,
as the proverb is, ‘ Thank God, and be doing without
his approbation.’ ” By this opposition, on the part
of the lady’s uncle, the pride of young Balcarres
was somewhat wounded, and his temper, in some
degree, ruffled; but, secure in her affection, it was
his resolute purpose, should Seaforth prove unyield-
ing, to act upon the only alternative then left him—
according to the Earl of Lauderdale’s advice—to
marry her without his consent. The spirited youth,

mustering up his self-respect, thus writes to John,
Lord Lindsay, of Byres :--“ Indeed, my Lord, I 'shall
be very glad to have his consent to it, and shall use
all means for it, since he is her uncle; but if he will
not, I believe your Lordship shall as publicly see
how little power he has either of her or her means,
and that I am as little curious for alliance with him
as he is with me, if I had no other end before me;
for, in truth, it is neither his alliance nor her means
has made me intend it.” Appeals were made to the
Earl of Seaforth, in favour of the match, in letters
written to him by Lord Lindsay of Byres, and by the
Earls of W'inton and Dunfermline; and young Bal-
carres also wrote him on the subject in a firm but
respectful tone. At last, Seaforth, finding that his
opposition would prove unavailing, gave a tardy and
reluctant consent; and the happy pair, after this
vexatious delay, which young Balcarres, it would
appear, here with no small degree of impatience,
were united in wedlock, in April 1640.‘
Among the friends of Lady Anne, who warmly
advocated the union, was the Earl of Rothes. After
her marriage, this nobleman wrote her a “homely, but
a warm-hearted letter,” particularly enjoining upon
her the duty of economy, in the new situation into
which she was now brought. The letter, which is
dated “Leslie, 15th May 16110,” begins thus :——“ My
Heart,—I have sent Mr. David Ayton with your
counts, since my intromission ;“’ they are very clear
and well instructed; but truly your expense hath
been over large this last year; it will be about 3600
merks, which indeed did discontent me, when I
looked on it. I hope you will mend it in time
coming.” “Your husband,” his lordship adds,
“hath a very noble heart, and much larger than his
fortune, and except you be both an example, and
exhorter of him to be sparing, he will go over far:
both he, my lord and lady, love you so well, that if
ye incline to have those things which will beget
expense, they will not be wanting, although it should
do them harm, therefore go very plain in
your clothes, and play very little, and seek God
heartily, who can alone make your life contented
here, and give you that chief content, the hope of
happiness hereafter. The Lord bless you t” 3
“This good advice,” says Lord Lindsay, “was
not thrown away. Never did any marriage turn out
happier. Lady Anne proved a most affectionate wife,
a most kind and judicious mother; and though of the
‘mild nature’ and ‘sweet disposition,’ praised by
Lord Balcarrcs, was truly, as he adds, ‘ wise withal,’

1 Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsays, vol. ii., pp. 34-14.
2That is, since I acted in your affairs.
3 Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., p- 44.



172
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


and capable, as events afterwards proved, of heroic
firmness, and the most undaunted resolution.”
In the stirring times in which they lived, young
Balcarres joined the Covenanters, whom he greatly
aided both by his counsels in the cabinet, and by his
valour in the field. He commanded a troop of horse
in the Covenanters’ army, at the battle of Alford,
2d July 164t5, when General Baillie was defeated by
the Marquis of Montrose. He was one of the com-
missioners despatched by the Parliament of Scotland,‘
19th December 1616, to king Charles 1., with their
last proposals, which his majesty rejected; upon;
I tenderness, and affection on his part towards her.
which the Scottish army surrendered him to the

several years, they followed the court. During her
abode in France, “being zealous for the king’s
restoration (for whose cause her husband had
pawned and ruined his estate), by the Earl of
Lauderdale’s direction, she, with Sir Robert Mur-
ray, got diverse letters from the pastors and others
there, to bear witness of the king’s sincerity in the
Protestant religion.” ’
Amidst all these vicissitudes in her lot, Lady
Balearres experienced much domestic happiness.
Her esteem, tenderness, and affection towards the
Earl, were reciproeated by a corresponding esteem,
English Parliament, and retired from England. He He knew 1161‘ Worth; he reposed With mueh 0011-
was, however, of undaunted loyalty to his sovereign, fidellee in her judgment; and the lapse of time Pro-
which indeed he carried too far, supporting the Duke l dU-eed net the slightest abatement of the al‘dellr Of
of Hamilton’s engagement—an undertaking justly early affeetiell. They Were favoured with fine Chil-
considered inconsistent with the obligation of the ‘ dren, who promised to be lovely and good like them—
Solemn League and Covenant. IV hen Charles ' selves, and the blessing of Heaven seemed to restupon
marched into England, in 1651, he was left to j them. Baxter, in writing to her, speaking of God’s
command the troops on the north of the Forth, and goodness to her, both in a temporal and spiritual
in the Highlands, where, through his marriage with respect, says, “ You may read in these sacred records
the daughter of the Earl of Scaforth, and his friend- i Of your heart, how the Angel of the covenant hath
ship with H16 Marquis 0f Huntly, and the clans, he , hitherto conducted you through this wilderness,
had great power. But the affairs of Charles becom- ’ towards the land of promise; how he hath been a
ing, on the defeat of his army at Worcester, to all cloud to you in the day, and a pillar of fire by night;

appearance hopeless, the Earl, in December that
year, eapitulated with the English on favourable con-
ditions, and disbanded his regiments. In 1652, he *
settled with his family at St. Andrews, keeping up a correspondence with his exiled sovereign; and, inl
1653, he again took up arms, and joined in a last ineffectual attempt to uphold the royal cause against
Cromwell. In January 165 4:, his estates were
sequestrated by Cromwell;l and he withdrew to
the Continent, joining Charles II. at Paris?
Lady Balcarres, from the strength of her affection
for the Ear], shared in the hardships and dangers to
which he was exposed, in those troublous times,
accompanying him in all his military wanderings.
“ The Earl of Balcarres,” says Baxter, was “a Cove-
nanter, but an enemy to Cromwell’s perfidiousness,
and true to the person and authority of the king:
with the Earl of Glencairn he kept up the last war
for the king against Cromwell; and his lady, through
dearness of affection, marched with him, and lay out
of doors with him 011 the mountains.” 3 And when
the Earl was driven out of Scotland by Cromwell,
she accompanied him to the Continent, where, for


how the Lord did number you with the people that
are his flock, his portion, and the lot of his inheri-
tance ; and led you about in a desert land, instructed
you, and kept you as the apple of his eye, Deut.
xxxii. 9, 10. His manna hath compassed your tent;
his doctrine hath dropped as the rain, and his words
distilled as the dew; as the small rain upon the
tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass,
ver. 2. As his beloved, you have dwelt in safety by
him, and the Lord hath covered you all the day
long, chap. XXXlll. 12. When storms have risen, he
hath been your refuge; and when dangers com-
passed you on every side, he hath bid you as in his
pavilion, and his angels have pitched their tents
about you, and borne you up. You have been
fortified in troubles, and enabled comfortably to
undergo them. In war and in peace; in your
native country and in foreign lands; among your
friends and among your enemies; in court and
country; in prosperity and adversity, you have
found that ‘there is none like the God of Israel, who
rideth upon the heaven in your help, and his excel-
lency on the sky: the eternal God hath been your
refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms,’
Deut. xxxiv. 26, 2'7.” 2

1 Lamont’s Diary, p. 66. “One George Fleming had a charter of
Palearres, 8th December 1653, and szisine of Buloarres was passed in
favour of Hew Hamilton, bailie of Edinburgh, by Oliver Cromwell,
7th March 1655. Haigh Muniment-roon1.”-—Lord Lindsay’s Lives
of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., pp. 104‘, 105. -
e Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., pp. 167, 168.
a Sylvestcr’s Reliquize Baxterianae, part i., p. 121.
1 Sylvester’s Reliqulaz Baxterianae, part i., p. 121.
2 Epistle Dedicatory prefixed t7 treatise on The Mischiefs of Self-
ignorance, Baxter’s Works, vol. ii., pp. 7 62-764.


COUNTESS OF BALCARRES.
173


Baxter, who thus addresses her, personally knew
both her and her husband. The Earl of Balcarres
had, upon the recommendation of Lord, afterwards
Duke, Lauderdale,l read some of the works of Baxter,
which, after a careful perusal, he reckoned among
the best of uninspired theological writings. Nor did
Lady Balcarres, who had also been induced to read
them, fall short of her lord in the judgment she formed

of their great merits; and, from reading them, she had
acquired aveneration for the character of “the Her-
cules of nonconformity,”as Baxter is styled byFoster,
even before she had seen him. On their becoming
personally acquainted, he was often a visitant at her
residence, being at all times welcome; and, when
resident in London, she regularly attended his min- I
istry. Baxter, on the other hand, was much attracted '
by the Christian excellence of her character, and
regarded her as one of the most eminently pious
ladies of her day. Some of his practical works were
published at her request; and it is to the Dedications i
of some of his works to her, and to his History of 1
his Life and Times, written by himself, that we are
chiefly indebted for what we know respecting her
during the first half of her life. In the following;
passage from the work last referred to, he informs l
us of the origin of his friendship with her, and pro-
nounces a high encomium upon her Christian excel-
lence:—“ When the Earl of Lauderdale, his [Lord
Balcarres’s] near kinsman and great friend, was
prisoner in Portsmouth and Windsor Castle, he fell
into acquaintance with my books; and so valued
them that he read them all, and took notes of them,
and earnestly commended them to the Earl of Bal-

carres, with the king. The Earl of Balcarres met, at
the first sight, with some passages where he thought
I spoke too favourably of the Papists, and differed ‘
from many other Protestants, and so cast them by,
and sent the reason of his distaste to the Earl of
Lauderdale, who pressed him but to read one of the
books ever ;2 which he did, and so read them all (as
I have seen many of them marked with his hand);
and was drawn to over-value them more than the
Earl of Lauderdale. Hereupon his lady, reading
them also, and being a woman of very strong love
and friendship, with extraordinary entireness swal-


lowed up in her husband’s love, for the books’ sake,
and her husband’s sake, she became a most affec-
tionate friend to me, before she ever saw me. . .
. . . Her great wisdom, modesty, piety, and sin-
cerity, made her accounted the saint at the court.
IVhen she came over with the king, her extraordinary
respects obliged me to be so often with her, as gave
me acquaintance with her eminency in all the afore-
said virtues. She is of solid understanding in reli-
gion for her sex, and of prudence much more than
ordinary; and of great integrity and constancy in
her religion, and a great hater of hypocrisy, and
‘ faithful to Christ in an unfaithful world; and she
is somewhat over-much affectionate to her friends,
which hath cost her a great deal of sorrow in the loss
of her husband, and, since, of other special friends,
and may cost her more when the rest forsake her——
as many in prosperity use to do those that will not
forsake fidelity to Christ. . . Being my
constant auditor, and over-respectful friend, I had
occasion for the just praises and acknowledgments
which I have given her.” ‘
Lady Balcarres had not been many years on the
Continent, when she was visited with a severe
domestic affliction, in the death of the Earl. His
political opponents having, by their slanders, pre-
judiced the mind of Charles against him, he was, for
a time, forbidden the court; “the grief whereof,” says
Baxter, “ added to the distempers he had contracted,
by his warfare on the cold and hungry mountains,
cast him into a consumption, of which he died.” 2
But death did not find him unprepared. His life
had been that of the righteous. According to a
sketch of his character, in a MS. of the period, he
made “conscience of all his actions, as if every day
he was to render an account to Him that made him.
. He had his times of devotion three times
a day, except some extraordinary business hindered
him: in the morning, from the time he was dressed
' until eleven o’eloek, he read upon the Bible and
divinity books, and prayed and meditated; then at
half an hour past . . till near seven; then at ten
o’cloek to eleven.” 3
During the whole of his last illness, the Countess
watched by his bedside with the most affectionate
tenderness; and painful as it was to her to look upon
his sufferings, she had the consolation—the highest
she could have enjoyed in the circumstances—of wit-
nessing the heavenly peace and joy which filled his
soul in the prospect of eternity. On' one occasion
he comforted her in these words, “You ought to

1Lauderdale, at first, seemed eminently religious; was a warm
Presbyterian, and zealous for the Covenant. lie was dctainedi
prisoner, after the battle of Worcester in 1651, in different places, ,
and was released from Windsor Castle just before the Restoration. in a letter to Baxter, dated “ Windsor Castle, December 14, 1658,” there is the following passage:—-“1 wish I knew any were fit to translate your books; I am sure they would take hugely abroad; and I think it were not amiss to begin with the ‘Call to the!
Unconverted.’”—-Quoted in Dr. Caiamy’s Life by Himself, in a foot note by the Editor, vol. i., p. 102. This sounds strangely when l
compared with Lauderdale’s future character. I
2 Over, i.e., through. ,'
1 Sylvester’s Reliquiac Baxterianze, part i., p. 121.
2 Ibid.
3 Quoted in Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., p. 107.




174 ‘run mums or
THE COVENANT.




rejoice, because I may say, as my blessed Saviour
did, when he was to depart from his disciples, Let
not your hearts be troubled, for I go to my heavenly
Father; I go from persecution and calumny to the
company of angels, and spirits of just men made per-
fect.” He added, “How sweet is rest to a wearied
soul, and such a rest as this is that I am going to!
O blessed rest! where we shall never cease, day nor
night, from saying, ‘Holy, holy, holy, Lord God
Almighty!’ where we shall rest from sinning, but
not from praising.” At another time, Mr. Patrick
ForbesI having asked him, “ My lord, do you forgive
all your enemies, that have so maliciously persecuted
you P” he replied, “Ay, ay, Mr. Forbes, long ago;
I bless God that is not to do.” On the last day of
his life, the Countess asked him, “My love, how is
it with you now; have you gotten that measure
of assurance you desired?” He said, “All I can
answer to you is, that I bless my Redeemer for it!
I am as full of joy, with the assurance I have that
my Redeemer is mine, and I am his, as my heart can
hold.” After some little struggling with death, he
said to her, “My dear, I follow a good Guide, who
will never quit me, and I will never quit him.”
“ Hold you there, my dear,” she replied, “for there
you are safe ; he is a shield and buckler to them that
trust in him; he is the munition of rocks.” He often
observed that afternoon that the Lord called him,
using these words, “ Come, Lord Jesus, thou tarriest
long!” Finding that his death was fast approaching,
the Countess said to him, “ Have courage, my love!
your redemption draws near; your blessed Lord is
making fast ready, accompanied with his angels, to
attend you to that mansion he prepared for you before
the world was; he will go through the valley of the
shadow of death with you.” Upon which he laid both
his feeble hands about her neck, and, with the small
strength he had, drew her in to him, and said, “I
must take my last farewell of thee, my dearest!”
and, after expressing the ardour of his affection for
her, desired her to pray that the passage might be
easy. It was remarkably so indeed; for soon after,
having looked up to heaven and prayed, he gently
breathed out his soul into the hands of the Saviour
who redeemed it. He died at Breda, on the 30th
of August 1659, at the early age of forty-one;2 and
his body was brought over to Scotland, and buried
in the church at Balcarres.3 This nobleman, as he


well deserved, obtained a high place,in the estimation
of his country, for ability, wisdom, virtue, and piety.
Robert Baillie describes him, as “without doubt one
of the most brave and able g‘Cl'ltlC‘lllCll of our nation,
if not the most able;”1 and Baxter, as “a lord of
excellent learning, judgment, and honesty; none
being praised equally with him, for learning and
understanding, in all Scotland.”2 His zeal in the
cause of the Covenant, with the exception of his
concern in “the engagement,” is attested by Mr.
Samuel Rutherford, who, as those who have read
his Letters will readily admit, was not disposed to
speak with flattering lips to the greatest. In a letter
to him, dated “ St. Andrews, December 24:, 1640,”
he says, “Lord Balcarres, whose public dcservings
have been such, that I esteem him to have been most
instrumental in this work of God. I hope, my lord,
you will pardon me to make a little exception in the
matter of the late sinful engagement.”3 Cowley
wrote an elegiac poem upon his death; in which he
celebrates his talents, virtues, and piety, and deplores
his premature removal; nor does he forget to com-
memorate the worth of the noble lady of the departed.
The following extracts are from the concluding
verses:—
“ Noble and great endeavours did he bring
To save his country and ‘restore his king ;
And whilst the manly half of him, which those
“he know not love, to be the whole suppose,
Performed all parts of virtue’s life;
The bcauteous half, his lovely wife,
Did all his labours and his cares divide;
Nor was a lame, nor paralytic side,
In all the turns of human state;
In all th’ unjust attacks of fate
She bore her share and portion still,
And would not suffer any to be ill.”
“ His wisdom, justice, and his piety,
His courage both to suffer and to die,
His virtues, and his lady too,
Were things celestial.”
By this nobleman, the Countess had issue two
sons and three daughters :-1. Charles, second Earl
of Balcarres, who died in 166:2; 2. Colin, who, on the
death of his brother Charles, became third Earl of
Balcarres; 3. Lady Anne; 4. Lady Sophia; and
5. Lady Henrietta.
The death of the earl, whom she loved so tenderly,
inflicted a deep wound on the heart of Lady Bal-
carres, though she sorrowed not concerning him as
those who had no hope, and sought consolation by
unburdening her grief to her heavenly Father,

1 Mr. Patrick Forbes was the son of M r. John Forbes, minister of
Alford, who was banished his majesty’s dominions for life, in the
reign of James VI., for defending the liberties of the Presbyterian
Church of Scotland. Deserting his father’s principles, he conformed
to Prelacy, after the Restoration, and was made bishop of Orkney.
2 Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., pp. 104-110.
3 Lamont’s Diary, p. 1:23. “The remains of Lord Balcarres,” says
this writer, “landed at Elie, 2d December 1659, and some days after .
were carried to Balcarrcs, and this 12th J an. [1660], were interred
at Balcarres, in the ordinary burial-place, with suiting solemnity.”
1 Letters, vol. iii., p. 437.
2 Sylvester’s Rcliquiae Baxterianae, part i., p. 121.
3 Rutherford’s Letters, Whyte and Kennedy’s edition, p. 716.
This letter is published in that edition for the first time.


COUNTESS OF BALCARRES.
175

under the loss of the husband of her youth. But


trusting that, true to his promise, he would never
leave nor forsake her. Having resolved on bringing
home his body for interment at Balcarres, she left
Breda for Scotland, accompanying or following his
mortal remains, to their final resting-place. After
the last sad offices of respect were performed to his
mortal part, she started from Balcarres for London,
on the 12th of July 1660, taking her children along
with her.1 In London, where she stayed a con-
siderable time, she had many opportunities of meet-
ing with her friend, Richard Baxter, a man well
qualified to administer religious consolation to her,
while resident in the English capital, a new, and an
unexpected trial befell her in the conversion of her
daughter, Lady Anne, to Roman Catholicism. Lady
Anne appears to have been a young person of high
promise; but, led away by the artful and insinuating
persuasions of the Jesuits about the court (and the
Queen dowager seems to have been privy to the
business), she became enchanted with l’opery, and
openly embraced it. On receiving the news of this
conversion, Lady Balcarres was so deeply grieved, as,
it would appear, to suffer considerably in her health ;2
and, anxious for the recovery of her daughter to
the truth, she requested Dr. Gunning, afterwards
Bishop of Chichester, to endeavour to get a meeting

with the eorrupters of the young lady’s faith, in
order to his arguing with them in her presence
against the Popish doctrines. But she was unfor-
tunate in the choice of her man; Dr. Gunning, from
his bigoted high church principles, being more fitted I
to confirm her daughter in Romanism than to con- i
'vert her from it. “The Countess of Balcarres,”
says Baxter, “told me, that when she first heard of
it, she desired Dr. Gunning to meet with the priest,
to dispute with him, and try if her daughter might be recovered, who pretended then to be in doubt;
and that Dr. Gunning first began to persuade her‘
daughter against the Church of Scotland, which she j
had been bred in, as no true church, and after dis-
puted about the Pope’s infallibility, and left her
daughter worse than before; and that she took it
to be a strange way to deliver her daughter from;
Popery, to begin with a condemnation of the reformed l
churches as no true churches, and confess that the i
church and ministry of Rome was true.”3 She next



promote her object, was willing to discuss the ques-
tion of the Romish faith with any champion of the
Romish church, in the presence of Lady Anne.
But all the efforts of Baxter to obtain such a dis-
cussion’ were without success; for the perverters
of the young lady’s faith kept themselves behind the
curtain, and they were, besides, sufficiently conscious
of their inability to grapple with a man of Baxter’s
calibre, as well as too cunning to expose themselves
to the risk of losing a convert of whom they seem
to have prided themselves not a little. At last they
stole her away secretly from her mother, in a coach.
A servant went after her, and overtook her in
Lincoln’s-Inn Fields. She positively promised to
the servant to come back, saying, she went only to
see a friend. But she never came back.2 She was
conveyed to France, and there placed in a nunnery,
where, to put the most charitable construction upon
her conduct, she possifly might expect to escape
the temptations she would encounter in the world,
and live without distraction, in constant meditation
upon God and Divine things-for that is the reason
assigned by the Roman Catholics for the unnatural
seclusion of the cloister—but where she would be
deprived of the opportunities of benevolent activity,
which are only to be found by mixing with the
world, and where she would meet with the tempta-
tions peculiar to the recluse, and peculiar to Popish
nunneries. Baxter, writing to the Countess, August
25, 1661, when enumerating the mercies of her lot,
says, “You may remember . . . . your com-
fort in your hopeful issue, though abated by the
injury of Romish theft, which stole one of the roses
of your garden, that they might boast of the sweet-
ness when they called it their own: I may well say
stole it, when all the cheat was performed by un-
known persons in the dark; and no importunity by
you or me, could procure me one dispute or con-
ference in her hearing, with any of the seducers,
before her person was stolen away.”3 Not long
after her departure, Lady Anne sent a letter to her
mother, from her nunnery, dated Calice, and sub

applied to Baxter, a more suitable man, who, to
1 Lamont’s Diary, p. 123.
'2 “ Hearing that the Countess of Balcarres was not well, I went
to visit her, and found her grievously afflicted for her eldest
daughter, the Lady Anne Lindsay, about sixteen or seventeen
years of age, who was suddenly turned Papist, by she knew not :
whon1.”—Sylvester’s Reliquize Baxterianze. part ii, p. 215).
3 Reliquize Baxterianaz, part i., pp 219-239.
1These efforts are stated at length in Reliquiae Baxterianae, part
ii., pp. 219, 220, to which the reader is referred.
2How speedily does Popery pervert the mind! “ Her mother told
me,” says Baxter, “that before she turned Papist, she scarce ever
heard a lie from her, and since then she could believe nothing that
she said.” Among other instances of her disregard to truth, he
mentions, that “she complained to the Queen-mother, of her mother,
as if she used her hardly for religion, which was false;” and yet,
such are the deiusions of Popery, that, writing to her mother from
Calice, in France, she says, “I felt no true love to Goo. in my soul
before; but as soon as I turned Papist I did, and have now the
Spirit of God, and his image, which before 1 never had.”
3 Baxtcr’s \\ orks, vol. ii., p. 761, Dedication of his “Mischiefs of
Self-ignorance," dated 25th August 1661. Baxter sent a letter to
her the day before she was stolen away, dated December 1, 1660,
I which is inserted. in lie; quize liaxterianze, part ii., pp. 219-22].


THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.




scribed, “Sister Anna Maria,” giving the reasons
why she had changed her religion. Her mother
showed the letter to Baxter, and desired him to
write an answer to it; which he did, though he
knew those, in whose power she now was, “were
not likely to suffer her to read it;” and it was
sent to her by her mother. It is dated January 29,
1661; and among other things he says, “I'Ve shall
have leave to pray for you, though we cannot have
leave to instruct you, and God may hear us when
you will not; which I have the more hopes of, be-
cause of the piety of your parents, and the prayers
and tears of a tender-hearted mother, poured out
for you, and your own well-meaning, pious disposi-
tion.” But all the means employed to recover her
to the Protestant faith were in vain. She continued
to the day of her death in the nunnery to which
she had been carried away, but the particular year,
What made the‘
in which she died is unknown.
fate of Lady Anne the more trying to her mother
was, that she was her favourite daughter.

“ This,” 1
says Baxter, “was the darling of that excellent, !
wise, religious lady, the widow of an excellent lord,
which made the affliction great, and taught her to
moderate her affections to all creatures.” 1 He adds,
“This perversion had been a long time secretly
working before she knew of it ; all which time, the
young lady would join in prayer with her mother,
and jeer at Popery, till she was detected, and then
she said, she might join with them no more.”
Lady Balcarres continued in London for some
months after the flight of her daughter to France.
At length, when about to depart for Scotland, feeling
the death of her husband still pressing heavy upon
her, aggravated by the fate of her eldest daughter,
and “being deeply sensible of the loss of the company
of those friends which she left behind her,” she
desired Baxter to preach the last sermon she was to
hear from him, on these Words of the Saviour, in
John xvi. 32, “Behold, the hour cometh, yea is come,
that ye shall be scattered every man to his own, and
shall leave me alone; and yet I am not alone, because
the Father is with me.” This passage of Scripture
had often recurred to her thoughts; and it seemed
so extremely appropriate to her condition, and had
proved so powerful a means of soothing her grief,
that she was very desirous of listening to such re-
flections upon it, as might suggest themselves to a
man of so enlarged an understanding, and so matured
experience, as was Richard Baxter. With her re-
quest Baxter readily complied; nor was she content
with hearing it preached, but requested him to give
her a copy of it in writing; and judging it was fitted



to be useful, to such as might be placed in circum-
stances similar to her own, she was urgent with him
to publish it.1
The exact time when Lady Balcarres left London
for Scotland is uncertain. From some statements
made in Baxter’s dedication to her of his treatise, to
which reference has already been made-—“ The Mis—
chiefs of Self-ignorance, and the Benefits of Self-
acquaintanee, opened in diverse Sermons, at Dun-
stan’s-iVest; and published in answer to the Accusa-
TIONS of some, and the Dnsrnns of others ”-—it
would appear that she had left London previous to
the 25th of August 1661, the date of the dedication.
“If one kingdom,” says he, “do not hold us, and I
should see your face no more on earth, yet, till we
meet in the glorious, everlasting kingdom, we shall
have frequent converse by such means as these, not-
withstanding our corporal distance. And as I am
assured of a room in your frequent prayers, so I hope
I shall remain, madam, your faithful servant, and
remembrancer at the throne of grace.”2 Lady Bal-
carres had heard the sermons which compose that
volume delivered from the pulpit; and so eminently
calculated, in her judgment, were they—from the
importance of the subject, and from the judicious
manner in which it was treated—to be of general
utility, that she earnestly solicited Baxter to publish
them to the world. His dedication commences thus:
“Madam, though it be usual in dedications to pro
claim the honour of inscribed names, and though the
proclaiming of yours be a work that none are like to
be offended at that know you, they esteeming you
the honour of your sex and nation; yet that you
may see I intend not to displease you, by any unsafe
or unsavoury applause, I shall presume to lay a
double dishonour upon you; the one, by prefixing
, your name to these lean and hasty sermons; the

lReliquiae Baxterianw, part ii., pp. 219—229.
other, by laying part of the blame upon yourself, and
telling the world that the fault is partly yours that
they are published. Not only yours, I confess; for
had it not been for some such auditors as Christ
had—Luke xx. 20, and Mark xiii. 13-and for the
frequent reports of such as are mentioned, Ps. xxxv.
11-—I had not written down all that I delivered; and
so had been incapable of so easily answering your
desires. But it was you that was not content to
hear them, but have invited them to recite their
message more publicly; as if that were like to be
1 Reliquize Baxtcrianae, part i., p. 120. He published the sermon
in the close of the year 1662, in his work entitled, “The Divine
Life ;” which, besides that sermon, enlarged under the title, “ Con-
versing with God in Solitude,” contains two other treatises; the
first, “Of the Knowledge of God,” from the text John xvii. 3, and
the second, “ Of Walking with God,” from the text Gen. v. 24. To
this work is prefixed a Dedicatory Epistle, addressed to the Countess.
2 Baxter’s Works, vol. ii., p. 761.


COUNTESS OF BALCARRE S.
177






valued and effectual upon common hearts, which,
through your strength of charity, and holy appetite,
is so with yours.”1
About this time, the Countess was visited with
severe bodily affliction; on learning which, Baxter,
subsequently to his writing the above dedication,
added a “Postscript,” dated November 1, 1661,
giving expression to his sympathy; reminding her
that she had not to do with an enemy, but a Father;
and subscribing himself her “brother and companion
in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of
Jesus Christ.”
She recovered from this illness; but, in the fol-
lowing year, she lost her eldest son, Charles, second
Earl of Balcarres, a very promising boy of about ten
or twelve years of age, who died at Balcarres on the
15th of Cctober 1662,2 of a singular disease; a
stone being found in his heart, of great magnitude.3
He was buried in the church of Balcarres on the
21st of that month, “in the night season.”4 The
Countess sent the stone taken from his heart to Lord
Lauderdale, with a view to medical inspection, ac-
companied with a letter. “I have sent your lord-
ship,” she says, “ with my Lord St. Andrews,5 a poor
pledge for so rich a. jewel; this is all I have now for
my dear child, my little saint, I may rather say,
who is now, I hope, a star of the first magnitude.
0, my sweet child! how distressed, how sorrowful
has he left me, with an afflicted family. .
Were it not too tedious, I think I could have written,
‘though not so learnedly, yet more fully, and that
which your lordship and physicians (that, I think,
will be astonished with the bigness of the stone, how
his little heart could contain it) would have made
use of. My lord, pray let me know what physicians
say of it, and if there could have been help for it;
and whether they think he has had it from his con—
ception, or but lately grown.”6

1 Baxter’s Works, vol. ii., p. 761.
2 The Countess had returned to Balcarres in May preceding.
‘ In May 1662, viz., the sixth day, the said Lady returned to Balcar-
res, her two sons having come some months bcfore.”—Lamont’s
Diary, p. 123.
3 Reliquiec Baxterianzc, part i., p. 131. “When he was opened,”
says Wodrow, “ there was a stone, or stony substance, found in his
heart, and that about two inches long, which Sir Robert Hurray
presented either to Gresham College, or some other public collection
of curiosities. He was an excellent youth, of great parts and piety.”
--Analecta, vol. i., p. 356. Wodrow, in the same place, says that he
“died at London,” which is a mistake. He also asserts that “ Bax-
ter, in one of his books, which he dedicates to his [the child ‘s1 mother,
says, ‘Though he died of a stone in his heart, yet be luul not a heart
aj'stone! ”’ He evidently quotes from memory; the words printed
in italics not being used by Baxter, though he plainly refit-rs to the
piety of the boy.
4 Lamont’s Diary, p. 156.
5 Sharp, Archbishop of St. Andrews.
8Letters of Lady Margaret Burnet to the Duke of Lauderdale,
p. 92.

Shortly after the death of this child, Baxter, on
hearing of the Countess’s bereavement, addressed to
her a consolatory letter, dated December 24.‘, 1662.
This forms the Dedicatory Epistle prefixed to his
treatise entitled “ The Divine Life,” to which refer-
ence has already been made. It is chiefly employed
in suggesting such consolatory considerations as
might tend to mitigate her grief under this affliction;
and a portion of it may be quoted, both because it
illustrates the train of reflection suggested to her
mind on this occasion, and because it is well adapted
to be useful to Christian parents, when tried, in the
course of Divine providence, with the death of their
children. “ Madam,” says he, “in hope of the fuller
pardon of my delay, I now present you with two
other treatises, besides the sermon (enlarged) which,
at your desire, I preached at your departure hence.
I knew of many and great afflictions which you had
undergone, in the removal of your dearest friends,
which made this subject seem so suitable and season-
able to you at that time; but I knew not that God
was about to make so great an addition to your trials
in the same kind, by taking to himself the principal
branch of your noble family (by a rare disease, the
emblem of the mortal malady now reigning). I hope
this loss also shall promote your gain, by keeping
you nearer to your heavenly Lord, who is so jealous
of your affections, and resolved to have them entirely
to himself. And then you will still find that you
are not alone, nor deprived of your dearest or most
necessary friend, while the Father, the Son, the
sanctifying and comforting Spirit, is with you. And
it should not be hard to reconcile us to the disposals
of so sure a friend. Nothing but good can come
from God; however the blind may miscall it, who
know no good or evil but what is measured by the
private standard of their selfish interests, and that
as judged of by sense. Eternal love, engaged by
covenant to make us happy, will do nothing but
what we shall find at last will terminate in that
blessed end. He envied you not your son, as too
good for you, or too great a mercy, who hath given
you his own Son, and with him the mercy of eternal
life. Corporal sufferings, with spiritual blessings,
are the ordinary lot of believers here on earth; as
corporal prosperity, with spiritual calamity, is the
lot of the ungodly. And, I beseech you, consider
that God knoweth better than you or I, what an
ocean your son was ready to launch out into, and
how tempestuous and terrible it might have proved;
and whether the world, that he is saved from, would
have afforded him more of safety or seduction, of
comfort or calamity—whether the protraction of the
‘ life of your noble husband, to have seen our sins, and
Z
I
178
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.




their effects and consequents, would have afforded
him greater joy or sorrow. Undoubtedly, as God
had a better title to your husband, and children, and
friends, than you had, so it is much better to be with
him than to be with you, or with the best or greatest
upon earth. The heavenly inhabitants fear not our
fears, and feel not our afflictions. They are past
our dangers, and out of the reach of all our enemies,
and delivered from our pains and cares, and have the
full possession of all those mercies which we pray
and labour for. Can you think your children and
friends, that are with Christ, are not safer and better
than those that yet remain with you P Do you think
that earth is better than heaven for yourself? I
take it for granted you cannot think so, and will not
say so. And if it be worse for you, it is worse for
them. The providence which, by hastening their
glorification, doth promote your sanctification, which
helpeth them to the end, and helpeth you in the
way, must needs be good to them and you, however
it appear to flesh and unbelief. O, madam, when our
Lord hath showed us (as he will shortly do) what a
state it is to which he bringeth the spirits of the
just, and how he doth there entertain and use them,
we shall then be more competent judges of all those
acts of provide-nee to which we are now so hardly
reconciled! Then we shall censure our censurings
of these works of God, and be offended with our
offences at them; and call ourselves blind, unthankful
sinners, for calling them so bad as we did in our
misjudging unbelief and passion. We shall not wish
ourselves or friends again on earth among tempta-
tions and pains, and among uncharitable men, mali-.
cious enemies, deceitful flatterers, and untrusty
friends l When we see that face which we long to
see, and know the things which we long to feel, and
are full of the joys which now we can scarce attain
a taste of, and have reached the end which now we
seek, and for which we suffer, we shall no more take
it for a judgment to be taken from ungodly men, and
from a world of sin, and fear, and sorrow; nor shall
we envy the wicked, nor ever desire to be partakers
of their pleasures. Till then, let us congratulate
our departed friends on the felicity which they have
attained, and which we desire; and let us rejoice
with them that rejoice with Christ; and let us prefer
the least believing thought of the everlasting joys,
before all the defiled, transitory pleasures of the
deluded, dreaming, miserable world. And let us
prefer such converse as we can here attain with God
in Christ, and with the heavenly society, before all
the pomp and friendship of the world.”
The Countess continued to reside for several years
at Balcarres, watching with maternal care over the


education of her only remaining son, Colin, who
succeeded his brother as third Earl of Balcarres, and
of her two daughters, Lady Sophia and Lady Hen~
rietta. After remaining in a state of widowhood for
upwards of ten years, she was secondly married, on
the 28th of January 1670, to Archibald, ninth Earl
of Argyll,l who suffered martyrdom in 1685, and
whom she survived for above twenty years. This
marriage had the effect of lessening, in some measure,
Argyll’s political power, by alienating from him the
Duke of Lauderdale, whose lady’s niece was his first
wife. Lauderdale, Tweeddale, and Argyll had for-
merly been united in politics; but, previous to this
marriage, a difference had arisen between Tweeddale
andArgyll. Lauderdale, however, continued to retain
his former kindness for Argyll, till rumours wen
afloat that Argyll intended to marry the Countess of
Balcarres, when Tweeddale succeeded in engaging
Lauderdale in his quarrel, by persuading him that
the young Earl of Balcarres, their cousin and pupil,
would be ruined by the match. Tweeddale pre
vailed upon Lauderdale to desire Argyll to leave off
the contemplated marriage; but Argyll, seeming to
do so to please Tweeddale, the refusal inflamed
Lauderdale, whose friendship for Argyll, after that,
soon declined?’
For nearly eleven years after the second marriage
of the subject of our notice, whom we must now call
the Countess of Argyll, her domestic happiness was
undisturbed by any great domestic trial; and she
resided sometimes at Inverary, sometimes at Edin- _
burgh, and sometimes at Stirling, where the Earl
had a house. When at Inverary, the principal place
of her residence, she sat under the ministry of
Mr. Patrick Campbell, who, for nonconformity, had
been ejected, after the Restoration, from that parish,
of the Highland congregation of which he was min~
ister, but who resumed his labours there in 1669,
under the first indulgence, which was granted that
year.3 When at Edinburgh and at Stirling, and
when occasionally sojourning in other places, she
attended the sermons of the ejected ministers, both
in private houses and more publicly.4
Her two daughters, Lady Sophia and Lady Hen-
rietta, in whom she found more comfort than in her
daughter Lady Anne, “though widely different in
character, the one being as gentle and retiring as
the other was energetic and enterprising, were united

1 Argyll was a widower. His first wife was Lady Mary Stuart,
eldest daughter ot'Jamcs, fifth Earl of Moray. She died in May 1660’
2 Sir George Mackcnzie’s Memoirs of the Affairs of Scotland, pp.
179-181.
3 Wodrow’s History, vol. i., p. 328; and vol. ii., p. 133.
4 Diary of her daughter, Lady Henrietta, Wodrow M88. in
Advocates’ Library, vol. xxxi. b'vo, no. 8.


COUN TESS OF ARGYLL.
179


in one faith, one love to their Saviour, their mother,
and each other.” Like-minded with their mother
in regard to the persecuted Presbyterian church,
they preferred the sermons of the proscribed min-
isters to those of the hireling curates. Of the gentle
and retiring Lady Henrietta, it is unnecessary here
particularly to speak, as she will form the subject of
the subsequent sketch. “ Solitude and retirement,
in which she could commune with her own heart
and be still, had ever a peculiar charm for her.
Lady Sophia, on the contrary, was a woman re-
markable for the brightest faculties, cheerful, and
witty, and endowed with that presence of mind, in
the hour of need, which is justly denominated
heroism.”l By her sprigl‘itliness and humour, she
diffused an agreeable hilarity over the society in
which she mingled; and her jesting powers she
sometimes exercised at the expense of the unprin-
cipled persecutors of her day, for whom she enter-
tained a just contempt. The following anecdote—
relating to a visit she paid to Adam Blackadder (son
of the famous John Blackadder), then only an
apprentice boy to a merchant in Stirling, when, about
the close of the year 1674:, he was imprisoned in
the tolbooth of that town for refusing to sign the
bond in reference to conventicles, called “ the black
bond,” and for being at conventicles—well illus-
trates both her principles and character, though
an instance only of sportive pleasantry, in which
she indulged in the free and unrestrained exube-
rance of her youthful spirits—for she was, probably,
at that time, not more than eighteen years of age.
“While I was in prison,” says Adam, “the Earl
of Argyll’s two daughters-in-law, Lady Sophia and
Lady Henrietta, and Lady Jean, his own daughter,
did me the honour, and came to see me, where, I
remember, Lady Sophia stood up upon a bench,
and arraigned before her the Provost of Stirling;
then sentenced and condemned him to be hanged,
for keeping me in prison: which highly enraged the
poor fool Provost," though it was but a harmless
frolic. It seems he complained to the council of
it, and the good Earl was like to be brought to much
trouble about it.” 3
When resident in Fife, Lady Sophia went to hear
the sermons of Mr. John Blackadder and others, who


1 Lord Lindsay’s Lives of the Llntlsays, vol. ii., p. 14+.
2 The Provost, according to Adam’s account, was “a violent
Icrsccutor and ignorant wrcteh.” When, on being apprehended
early in the morning by two messengers, Adam was brought to the
Provost, the first words the Provost (putting on his breeches)
spoke to him were, “Is not this bra’ war-k, sirr, that wi maun be
troubled with the like of you? ” Adam answered, “ Y<-u hme got a
bra’ prize, my lord, that has ciach't a poor prcntfce.”—Blackaddci"s Memoirs, pp. 301, 302. ‘
preached very frequently there, both in the fields
and in private houses. In Blackadder’s Memoirs,
we are informed that, on Sabbath, the 11th of
January 1674:, when only about seventeen years
of age, she came to hear that venerable minister
preach at the house of Alexander Hamilton, laird of
Kinkell, a man of eminent piety, liberality, and
courage, whose house was a shelter to many of the
persecuted ministers in their wanderings, and in
which, though it was within a mile of St. Andrews,
the seat of Archbishop Sharp, they often preached
to great numbers, none being excluded who came to
hear. She was, however, prevented from hearing
sermon on that day, by one of those interruptions
which conventicles at that time so frequently met
with. The militia of St. Andrews, hurried out by
the wife of Archbishop Sharp, a woman of a similar
spirit with himself, came to Kinkell, with muskets,
lighted matches, and pikes, under the conn'nand of
one lieutenant Doig, with above a hundred of the
rabble, and many of the disaffected students, gentle-
men, and some noblemen’s sons, and drew up before
Kinkell House gate, at some distance. They did not,
however, interrupt Blackadder, who was delivering
a lecture from Psalm ii. to a numerous auditory; the
long gallery and two chambers being full, and also a
multitude in the close. But some of the ill-disposed,
having, after the singing of the Psalm at the close
of the lecture, got into Mr. Hamilton’s stable, and
having taken away his horse, and the horses of some
others, Mr. Hamilton, who had been standing with-
out the gate, and looking on, observing this, struck
with a cane at the fellow who had taken his horse;
upon which, some of the disaffected students from
behind his back took hold of the cane, pulling it
out of his hand, which occasioned his falling to the
ground. This was followed by an altercation between
the friends of Mr. Hamilton and the militia; but no
serious harm was sustained by any of the parties.
At this time, many who were proceeding to the
meeting turned back, on hearing the alarm, among
whom were Lady Sophia Lindsay and some company
with her, who were coming down the brae above
the house of Kinkell. An old man, flying from the
meeting, called out to them to stay; and, on their
inquiring what was the matter, he cried, in great
terror, “ A massacre, a great massacre, yonder, for
I saw some of the best (meaning Mr. Hamilton) fall
ere I came away, and they were stripping the
women.” This so affected them, that they went
back to a landwart man’s house. Meanwhile, the
~ lieutenant, with the militia and the rabble, marched
back to StgAndrews; af ter which the people again
r_>_I
3 Ibid.
convened; and the gates being shut, and a watch set




180
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



on the battlement to observe the motions of the
militia, they heard, without interruption, Blackadder
preach a very moving sermon on these pathetic
words in Jeremiah, xxxi. 18, “1 have surely heard
Ephraim bemoaning himself thus: Thou hast chas-
tised me and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccus-
tomed to the yoke: turn thou me, and 1 shall be
turned; for thou art the Lord my God.” But Lady
Sophia, and those with her, were not present at the
sermon. Not knowing that the militia had left
kinkell, they sent a boy to ascertain the state of
matters. The boy, on coming to Kinkell House, was
admitted within the gate, and allowed to hear with
others in the close, but not suffered to go away till
the sermon was ended. This made Lady Sophia
and her company conclude that all was not well, and
they remained where they were, expecting to hear
distressing news. After sermon, the boy returned;
and, 011 being asked what detained him, he said he
had been hearing a preaching, where all the folk
were weeping ; which yet alarmed'them more, till he
told them that no injury had been done to any one.
Upon this, “Lady Sophia, with several in her com-
pany, came and stayed in Kinkell House that night
with the laird and the minister, with whom she then
made good jest of the pitiful alarm she had got.” '
That the Countess of Argyll exerted a beneficial
influence in promoting, in the Earl, both a sense of
piety and the love of liberty, is undoubted. During
the first eleven years of their union, already referred
to, as well as during several previous years, he was
connected, it is true, with the persecuting govern-
ment of Charles 11., and complied with it, to an
extent which was unworthy of the son of the
protomartyr of the Solemn League and Covenant,
and of so eminent a saint as was his mother. But,
while this is admitted—and it occasioned him after-
wards deep remorse, drawing from him free acknow-
ledgments and deep contrition on the scaffold—it is,
at the same time, only ustice to state, that he rather
passively yielded to the persecuting measures
pursued by the majority of the government, than
gave them his cordial approbation, or actively car-
ried them into effect. He sometimes shielded the
Presbyterian ministers from persecution. Owing
to his protection, Argyllshire suffered less for non-
conformity than many other counties of Scotland.2
Towards the close of his career, the principles of
religion and of civil freedom, which had been instilled
into him in early life, asserted their claims, elevating


his patriotism above personal considerations. And
these redeeming traits of his character were owing,
in no small degree, to the influence exerted on his
mind, by the benevolent sympathy and favour for
the persecuted Presbyterians which distinguished his
lady,‘ and her pious public-spirited daughters, by
her first husband, Lady Sophia and Lady Henrietta,
for both of whom he entertained a high esteem, as
well as a strong and tender affection.
During the persecution, many excellent women, as
we have already seen in the Introduction, even when
they did not suffer by any proceedings of the govern-
ment instituted directly against themselves, yet suf-
fered greatly through the unjust and illegal proceed-
ings of the government against their husbands. About
the close of the year 1681, the Countess began to
experience this kind of trial. After the Parliament
had enacted that all officers in church and state
should take the test—an oath which, as Wodrow
well observes, “is a medley of Popery, Prelacy,
Erastianism, and self-contradiction,” 2—Argyll, on
being called to take it, November 3, 1681, as a
privy councillor and one of the commissioners of
the treasury, though he had in his place in Par-
liament opposed its imposition, swore it with this
explanation, which be subscribed, “ I take it in as far
as it is consistent with itself, and with the Protestant
religion; and I declare, that I mean not to bind up
myself, in my station, and in a lawful way, not to
wish or endeavour any alteration which I think to
the advantage of church or state, not repugnant to
the Protestant religion and my loyalty; and this I
understand as a part of my oath.” For taking it
with this explanation, he was imprisoned in the
Castle of Edinburgh on the 9th of November,
prosecuted before the justiciary court, and, by the
unanimous verdict of a jury of his peers, was found
guilty of high treason, leasing-making,3 and leasing-
telling, but was acquitted of perjury by a plurality
of votes.4 The privy council, upon this verdict
being given in, sent a letter to the king, informing

1Blackaddefs Memoirs, MS. copy; see also printed edition,
pp. 160—163.
2 Letter of Mr. James Boece, minister of Campheltown, after the
Revolution to Wodrow, among Letters to Wodrow, vol. xi., 4-to,
no. 190, M38. in Advocates’ Library.
1 See Appendix, no. xi.
2 The Parliament passed their act concerning the test on the 31st
of August 1681. In taking it, the swearer, among other things,
owned the ecclesiastical supremacy of the monarch in its fullest
extent; condemned, as unlawful, all resistance to the king, under any
pretext, or in any circumstances whatsoever; and renounced the
obligation of the National Covenant, and of the Solemn League and
Covenant; while, at the same time, with flagrant inconsistency, he
professed his adherence to the Scotch Confession of Faith of 1567,
which asserts that Christ is the only Head of the churclt—Vfodroxfis
History, vol. iii. pp. 297,, 297. l
3 Leasing-making was a crime—the creature of an act of Parlia-
ment—which consisted in misrepresenting the actions of the king to
any of his subjects; or, vice versa, those of the subjects to the king.
It inferred capital punishment.
4 Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i., pp 160, 16], 166. Drummond’s
Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron of Loeheill, pp. 206, 207.


(“OUR TESS OF ARGYLL.
181


him of what had been done, and desiring permission
to give orders to the justiciary court to pronounce
sentence upon Argyll, in conformity with the verdict;
it being the design of the Duke of York, the prime
agent in all this, to bring him to the scaffold, that
the Protestant party might be deprived of a head,
and to annex his jurisdiction to the crown, and to
parcel out his lands.l The Countess was now greatly
alarmed for his safety, as indeed there was too much
cause of alarm; and she would, in all probability,
have at this time been subjected to the trial
which befcll her in 1685, when he was beheaded at
v‘ Q‘
.\ "fék2\‘¢n$
I
the market cross of Edinburgh, had not her daughter
by her first husband, Lady Sophia, been the means
of enabling him to escape from the Castle.
Influenced by sympathy with her mother, as well
as by alfection to the Earl, and probably also impelled
by the tender passion of love—for she was supposed
to be, at this time, allianccd to the third son2 of
the Earl, by his first wife, to whom she was after-
wards married—Lady Sophia undertook to effect his
escape; and effected it, with singular dexterity and
success, about eight o’clock in the evening of Tues-
day, the 20th of December 1681.3 lVhether the

Escape of Argyll from Edinburgh Castle.
plan was of her own contrivance, does not appear;
but the manner in which she put it into execution,
as related to Lady Anne Lindsay by her father, Earl
James, Lady Sophia’s nephew, is as follows :—
“I‘Iaving obtained permission to pay him a visit of
one half-hour, she contrived to bring, as her page,
a tall, awkward, country clown, with a fair wig,
procured for the occasion; who had apparently been

1 Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i, p. 166. \Yodrow’s His-tory, vol.
iii., p. 337.
2 This was the Honourable Charles Campbell. The date of the
marriage is uncertain; and none of their descendants in the male ‘
line exist—Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 105. l
3 On the 19th, the day preceding, believing that his life was in
danger, the Earl began to entertain thoughts of attempt ng his escape; and, on the morning of the '30th. he had some intention, 1
though no fixed resolution, of attempting it that evening, ‘out had ‘
not then disclosed his intention to any individual. Learning, about
ten o’cioel; in the forenoon, that the Duke of York had absolutely
refused to suffer him to see him till his Majesty's return; and learn-
ing further, about noon, that some troops and a regiment of foot were
come to town, and that the next day he was to be brought down i
from the Castle to the common iail, from which criminals were
ordinarily carried to execution, he determined to attempt his escape
1 that very night; and, about five o’clock in the evening, he gave
1 directions in reference to it, not intending to make the attempt till
1 near ten o’eloek. About seven o’elock in the evening, a friend, who
came up from the city, dissuaded him from his purpose, alleging the
impossibility of its succeeding, new orders having been privateiy
given for more effectually securing him, the Castle guards being
_ doubled, and none suffered to go out without showing their faces,
which several ladies had already been required to do. But this
information, by increasing his apprehension of his danger, only
strengthened his determination; and, in less than an hour after, he
was enabled, by the aid of his favourite step-daughter, to carry it
into erfect. These particulars are taken from a scarce folio, entitled,
The Case of the Earl of Argyll, privately printed and circulated by
r his friends after his escape, p. 12:2.



THE LADIES OF
THE COVENANT.




engaged in a fray, having his head tied up. On
entering, she made them immediately change clothes.
They did so; and, on the expiration of the half-hour,
she, in a flood of tears, bade farewell to her supposed
father, and walked out of the prison with the most
perfect dignity, and with a slow pace,”1 led by the
gentleman who had accompanied her to the castle,
Argyll following as her page, holding up her train.
In passing the guards, Argyll was in no small danger
of being discovered, the suspicions of some of them
being awakened; but, with singular tact, she suc-
ceeded, by an ingenious device, suggested on the
spur of the moment, in allaying their suspicions.
“ The sentinel at the drawbridge,” continues the
same writer, “a sly Highlander, eyed her father hard,
but her presence of mind did not desert her; she
twitched her train of embroidery, carried in those
days by the page, out of his hand, and dropping it
in the mud, ‘ Varlet,’ cried she, in a fury, dashing it
across his face, ‘take that—and that too,’ adding a
box on the ear, ‘ for knowing no better how to carry
your lady’ s garment.’ Her ill treatment of him, and
the dirt with which she had besmeared his face, so
confounded the sentinel, that he let them pass the
drawbridge unquestioned.” Having passed all the
guards, she entered her coach, which was waiting
for her at the outer gate ; while Argyll, agreeably to
his assumed character, stepped on the hinder part
of the coach; and, on its coming opposite the Weigh
House, he slipped off, and shifted for himself.
The ability and success with which Lady Sophia
effected the escape of Argyll, lifted off a load from
the mind of her mother; who had now the comfort
of reflecting, that though he was still exposed to the
risk of apprehension before he reached Holland, that
sanctuary of safety, he was, in the meantime, out of
the hands of his enemies; and while her daughter
became, from this heroic action, more endeared to i
her than ever, she did not forget that her first and
highest acknowledgments were due to God, who, in
his merciful providence, had crowned this enterprise
with success?’ Very difierent were the feelings of
the government; who, on being informed of Argyll’s


escape, and of the manner in which it was brought
about, were so enraged, that it was even proposed,
in the privy council, publicly to whip the young lady
through the streets of Edinburgh. “ So gallant,”
says Aikman, “ were the Scottish cavaliers l”1 N o
punishment was, however, inflicted upon her at pre-
sent ;2 though she was afterwards imprisoned several
weeks for the noble deed.
After his escape from the castle, Argyll, according
to a previous arrangement, met with Mr. Pringle
of Torwoodlee, who conducted him in safety to
Northumberland, to the house of Mr. William Veitch;
who, again, conducted him safely to London, where,
and in the neighbourhood, he was concealed, and
hospitably entertained, by Mrs. Smith, the wife of a
wealthy confectioncr, and a woman of eminent piety,
wisdom, liberality, and patriotism, till he found the
means of getting safely over to Holland. It was
when at this time sheltered in London, that he
wrote a poetical address to Lady Sophia, his fair
dcliverer. It is dated London, April 18, 1682; and
though it has no peculiar merit as a poetical com-
position, a part of it may be given, as interesting
from the circumstances in which it was written. It
commences thus :--
“ Daughter, as dear as dearest child can he,
Lady Sophia, ever dear to me;
Our guardian angels, doubtless, did conspire
To make you gain, and me to give this hire,
N of to requite, what I can never do,
But somewhat suitable from me to you.
“ I am not rich, guincas tempt not your eyes,
Yet here are angels you will not despise.
You came an angel in the case to me,
Expressly sent to guide and set me free.
The great gate opened of its own accord, 3
That word came in my mind, I praise thb Lorl.
He that restrained of old the Sheehcmitcs, ‘1
1 hope will now the cruel Benjamitcs ;
Priests that do want the pity of laymen,
Judges and counsellors that cry, Amen.
When I was out, I knew not where 1 went,
I Cl icd to God, and he new angels sent.
If ye desire what passed since to me,
Read through the book of l’salms, and think on me.”
What follows are some of the concluding lines:—

1 Memoirs of Lady Anne Barnard, quoted in Lord Lindsay’s Lives
of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., p. 147.
2 See also Fountaihhall’s Decisions, yo]. i., p. 167; Wodrow’s
Ilistory, vol. iii., p. 337; Law’s Memorials, p. 210. In ‘‘ The Case of
the Earl ofArgyll,” it is said (p. 122), that “ within half an hour after
[that is, after a friend had visited him at seven o’clock in the evening],
by God’s blessing, he got safe out, questioned pretty warmly by the
first sentry, but not at all by the main-guard, and then, after the
great gate was opened, and the lower guard drawn out double, to
make a lane for his company [that is, Lady Sophia, in whose train
he followed], one of the guards, who opened the gate, took him
by the arm, and viewed him. But, it pleased God, he was not
discerned.”
3 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
There’s nothing meant but pride of tyranny,
A dainty way to uniformity.
The triple crown, and this new glorious head,
May make brave work when you and I are dead.
All is but cheat till holiness get place,
Till gospel laws be rules, and God give grace.
God’s secret laws are not still 5 understood,
The wrath of man may work the rhurch’s good;
What we may see is far from me to say,
But God doeth what he will in his own way-
1 Aikman’s History, vol. iv., p. 591.
2 Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i., p. 167.
3 On margin, Acts 10.
4 Gen. xxxv. 5. 5 Still, i.e., yet



COUNTESS OF ARGYLL.
1825



Peace is not promised here, yet we may see
Religion flourish to a great degree,
And Zion freed from human tyranny.
This may be here, but certainly above
There shall he always peace, and always love.
0 happy place‘. where we shall always see
The blessed sight, perfect felicity.
A place beyond our Essachosanl far,
Where there is always peace, and never war.
Let you and I meet at the throne of grace
By prayer now, till we see face to face -,
Since as your page I could no longer stay,
Pray God reward you, and himself you guide,
And all good people wish, to you provide.
The noble friends I found here, greet you well,
How much they honour you, it’s hard to tell ;
Or how weel I am used, to say it all,
Might make you think that l were in Whitehall,
I eat, I drink, I lie, 1 lodge, sae weel,
It were a folly to attempt to tell;
So kindly cared for, furnished, attended,
“'ere ye to chalk it down, you could not mend it.” ‘~’
Though the escape of the Earl greatly relieved the
mind 0" the Countess, the unjust and illegal proceed-
ings of the government against him in his absence,
proved to her a new cause of distress. The privy
council, having communicated the intelligence of his
escape to the king, and, at the same time, desired to
be informed what measures they should take in con-
sequence ; the king, in reply, allows sentence of for-
feiture of life and fortune to be pronounced upon
him, as a traitor, but not to be executed till his
pleasure should be further made known. On the
receipt of the king’s letter, which Was on the 22d
of December, the second day after Argyll’s escape,
the council gave orders to the justieiary court to
pronounce upon him, in his absence, the above sen-
tence. Learning the determination of the council,
the Countess presented a petition to the lords of
justiciary, humbly supplicating that no sentence
might be passed upon him in his absence, and sup-
porting the prayer by many strong reasons, founded
both on justice and on the law of Scotland; but the 'i
justiciary lords, being new mere tools in the hands
of the privy council, disregarded her petition, not
even deigning to answer it, and pronounced sentence
upon him in terms of the act of the privy council.3


During the time that the Earl was in Holland, the
Countess, it would appear, remained in Scotland,
residing chiefly at Stirling. She, however, continued
to correspond with him by letter; and Major Holmes,
whom Bishop Sprat describes as Argyll’s “long
dependent and friend, a man active in the times of
Cromwell, and always disaffected to his majesty’s
governmen ,” was employed by Argyll in conveying
his letters to her, as well as to others of his corre-
spondents, and in conveying her letters to him.1
At length, about the close of the year 1683, she
was put to trouble, in consequence of some of the
Earl’s letters, and of a letter which she had written
' to him, falling into the hands of the government. The
Rye House plot had been discovered in June that
year; and the government having received intelli~
gence that Argyll, who was still in Holland, had
corresponded with the conspirators, Major Holmes,
to whom all Argyll’s letters were addressed, was
taken into custody; and his house being searched,
there were found in it several of Argyll’s letters,
written in ciphers, and a letter of the Countess to
Argyll, also written in ciphers, together with the
key of the correspondence.2 All these documents
were immediately sent down to Edinburgh, to the
privy council; who, upon receiving them, summoned
the Countess to appear at their bar. This subject,
having come under their consideration at their meet.-
ing of the 18th of December 1683, the council “re-
mitted to the Lords Chancellor, Treasurer, and Duke
of Hamilton, to speak with the Lady Argyll anent
the deciphering of her letter to the late Earl of
Argyll, her husband, and to report to the council.
These members, having gone aside and spoken with
her, reported that she was unwilling to satisfy them
in that matter upon oath. The council then remitted
to the Earl of Perth, the Lords Register and Advo-
cate, to tell her of her danger if she refused to do
so; and these lords having also spoken with her, and
reported that she was willing to depone, the council
remitted to the Earl of Perth to examine her upon
tion to the Lords Chancellor and Treasurer in the
afternoon.” 3
She was summoned again to appear before the
council, at their meeting on the forenoon of the 20th
of December; and having made her appearance, she
was solemnly sworn concerning the letter above
mentioned, and then made her depositions thereupon.
The Larls of Perth and Tweeddale, the President of

I At lnverary “there are several avenues of great beauty, one of
the principal of which is a longr avenue which leads from the castle '
to Essachosan. . . . There are also many trees worthy of notice, on account of their great size and beauty. There is a lime near Essachosan, called the marriage-tree, on account of the union
of the branches, which is often visited by strangers. From a hole I
of considerable size, it throws out two principal branrhes, a little
above the ground, which are firmly knit together at about twenty j
ft ct above the point of separation, by a bar or branch, formed of a '
process issuing from one, or probably from both.” This extract, from the Statistical Account of Inverary, Argyllshire, in the New Statis- l
tical Account of Scotland, will enable the reader to form an idea of I
the Earl’s allusion in the text.
1’ Wodrow MSS, vol. ix., svo, no. ‘3. l
3 \‘f-Ali'u“ 3 History, vol. iii., p. 340.
' oath, and communicate the result of her examina-
1 Bishop Sprat’s “ True Account of the Horrid Conspiracy,” 8ce.,
p. 82.
2 Ibid.; compared with Acts of Privy Council afterwards quoted.
3 Register of Acts of Privy Council.


184
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


the court of session, and the Lord Advocate, were
appointed to examine her more particularly. Her
depositions have not been registered in the records
of the proceedings of the privy council, but the sub-

l
capital letters with figures placed above them on
the right hand; as, D“, which stood for the rela-
tives 116, M8, Izz'm, the import of which they did not
discover, until explained by the Countess herself.
stance of them has been preserved by Fountainhall, It does not appear, that at this meeting they read
an industrious chronicler of the events of those times. \ her own letter to her, or made her fully aware of the
She acknowledged that she had corresponded with l extent to which they had succeeded in deciphering
Argyll, which, in strict law, was criminal for her to ‘
do, though his wife, he being a condemned traitor.
She also owned, that the letter above referred to was
written by herself to him, but that she could not now
decipher it, having, about four months ago, burnt the
key, judging, upon the discovery of the English plot,
such a mode of corresponding dangerous, and liable
to suspicion. She further deponed, that ever since his
affair with the M‘Leans, about the Isle of Mull (the
M‘Leans having laid wait for his letters, to know
his design), it was the Earl’s practice to write to her
and his friends, even of his private affairs, in ciphers,
but that, as has been said before, she had burnt the
key, and could not now read or explain the ciphers ;
but that all the letters she received from him con-
tained nothing concerning the plot, and related only
to his own private affairs, and to his friends; “and it
would be a very cruel law indeed,” she added, “were
a wife compelled to detect, and reveal such matters.”
Unsatisfied with her answers, which, contrary to
their wishes, discovered nothing to criminate the
Earl, the committee pronounced them disingenuous ;
and accordingly, they sent in all haste for Mr. George
Campbell in the Canongate, and one Gray, of Crechie,
in Angus, who were skilled in the art of reading let-
ters written in ciphers. Such were the proceedings of
the committee of council. The council itself, at the
same diet (December the 20th), “continued the
advising the oath until their next meeting, and the
Earl of Balcarres was desired, that the lady [his
mother] might be in readiness at any time, when she
should be thereafter called for.” l
The Countess was again brought before the com-
mittee of the privy council, on the 1st of January
1684. By this time, Mr. Gray, of Crechie, and Mr.
George Campbell, had succeeded in deciphering her
letter to the Earl,2 with the exception of some

I
t
l
it; but ignorant that D43 was put for the relative
pronoun, and ignorant of the use made of another
hieroglyphic H75, they supposed, and hinted to her,
that, by these signs which occurred in her letter,
her son, the Earl of Balcarres, was intended. Find-
ing that her son was thus in danger of being
implicated, she said that she now remembered that
D“, was only a relative particle in the key between
her husband and her, and so meant Lord Maitland, 3
who was immediately mentioned before. As this
involved that nobleman in the charge of corre-
sponding with, and receiving letters from Argyll, a
traitor, the committee immediately sent for the
Earl of Lauderdale, Lord Maitland’s father, and
sent with him Captain Graham, and Sir Vl/illiam
Paterson, their clerk, to seal up all the papers,
trunks, and cabinets of Lord Maitland, who was
then in London, till they should be examined.4
At the meeting of the privy council on the fol-
lowing day (January 2), the committee give in a
verbal report of what they had done. They state,
“ upon information given to them, that a gentleman
in Mearns, named - Gray, of Crechie, by
rules of art, [is] able to unfold ciphering ; by their
order, the letter in ciphers found in Major Holmes’
house at London, and the key, sent down with
some other papers—which letter is by the Countess
of Argyll acknowledged to be a letter from her to
her husband—were delivered to him, who, having
considered thereof [deciphered the letter], except
some letters placed, as it seems, for monosyllables, or
names of persons, whereby the import of the whole
letter is fully discovered.” They further state, that
in consequence of the explanation which the Coun-
tess had given of certain letters with figures placed
above them, being put for monosyllables, or relative
particles, whereby Lord Maitland seemed implicated

1 Register of Acts of Privy Council, compared with Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i., p. 51.
c)
2 We have not met with the Countess’s letter; but the following is the alphabetical key
which opened it =—
a b c d e f g h i k 1 m n o p q r s t u w x y z 8:,
Alphabet 1st ..... ..10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 2O 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 3 32 83 34
,, 2nd .... ..40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 58 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 6-3 63 64
,, 3rd .... ..70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 -82 83 8t 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 98 94
As a specimen of this mode of correspondence between her and
the Earl, see a short letter which he wrote her in the middle
alphabet, in Appendix, no. xii.
3 Richard, Lord Maitland, eldest son of Charles, third Earl of
Laudcrdale (formerly Lord Hatton, brother to the famous Duke of
Carstairs’ State Papers, p. 106.
Lauderdale), was married to Lady Anne Cam pbell, second daughter
of the Earl of Argyll.
4 FOuntainllall’s Decisions, vol. i., p. 256; compared with Register
of Acts of Privy Council.

COUNTESS OF ARGYLL.
18b


in the crime of corresponding with Argyll, a con-
demned traitor, “they have yesternight given order
to Sir William Paterson, clerk to the council,
and Captain Patrick Graham, to go to the Earl of
Lauderdale’s house, and to secure all the papers
belonging to the Lord Maitland, and to examine all
the servants upon oath, as to the Lord Maitland.’s
cabinets, boxes, and coffers where any of his writes
were, that none of them were abstracted; and to
seal and secure the same, and the doors and win-
dows, that none might enter the room where they
were.” They further inform the council, “that Sir
Vl’illiam Paterson and Captain Graham had, conform
to the said order, gone to the Earl of Lauderdale’s
house, and called for the keys of the rooms where
any of the Lord Maitland’s papers were, or sus-
pected to be, and examined the haill servants of the
house, as to their knowledge of any other papers
belonging to him, or if the same were abstracted;
and that thereafter they had sealed the boxes and
cofl'ers wherein they were informed to be, and the
doors and windows of the chamber where they left
them, and produced the keys thereof before the
committee: as also, that, by their order, they had
gone to the Countess of Argyll, and given her an
account of the deciphering of the said letter, and
what they had observed therein, that she might not
be surprised, but might recollect herself for clearing
her oath.” In fine, they state that they had “found
it necessary to write a letter to the secretaries, with
the said deciphered letter, for his majesty’s informa-
tion.” “And the said deciphered letter, with the com-
mittee’s order to Sir William Paterson and Captain
Graham, and the account of the obedience given by
them thereto, being read, and considered by the
lords of council, they approved thereof, as necessary
and good service done to his majesty.” '
Such was the stir created by a letter which the
Countess wrote to her husband. No crin'iinating
disclosures of any moment, it would appear, were
made against Lord Maitland, if we may judge from
the silence preserved on the subject in the records
of the subsequent proceedings of the privy council.
The Countess, also, it would seem, was not further
annoyed in this matter, it being manifest, that
whatever might be discovered of Argyll’s intrigues
with those concerned in the Rye House plot, it was
to be discovered from his correspondence with others,
and not with her; and, accordingly, the government
specially addressed itself, and ultimately with suc-
cess, to the task of unravelling the letters of Argyll
1
In the summer of 1685, being informed of the
sickness of her daughter Lady Henrietta (then the
wife of Sir Duncan Campbell, of Auchinbreck), who
was residing at the Castle of Carnassary, in the
parish of Kilmartin, Argyllshire, the Countess went
to visit her, and, upon her recovery, brought her
along with her other daughter, Lady Sophia, who
had been residing some weeks with her sister at the
Castle of Carnassary, to Stirling, to live with her
there for some time.1 Lady Henrietta had a strong
affection for her mother, and bears a high testimony
to her Christian worth. “ Her tender care and affec-
tion,” says she, “have been greatly evidenced to all
hers, and particularly to myself, which I desire to
have a deeper sense of than can be expressed, as my
bounden duty; and I cannot but reckon it among
the greatest earthly blessings to have been so
trysted, having early lost my dear father, eminent
in his day, when insensible of the stroke, and whose
memory has much of a last-ing savouriness among
those of worth that knew him; and when so young,
not two years old, and deprived of his fatherly
instruction, it may justly be ground of acknowledg-
ment that the blessed Father of the fatherless, on
whose care I was left, did preserve so tender-hearted
a mother, whose worth and exemplariness, in many
respects, may be witness against us, if undutiful or
unthankful to the great Giver of our mercies.” 2
Hitherto, the Countess had suffered by the for-
feiture of the estates of the Earl, and by his long
banishment. Now, she was to suffer by being per-
sonally imprisoned, and still more severely by the
tragical fate of her husband. The Earl, who, for some
years, had been living on the Continent, and who
had, on the death of Charles 11., resolved upon his
unfortunate expedition of rescuing his country from
Popery and slavery, set sail for Scotland on the lst
of May 1685, with three ships, and a considerable
number of arms, but with few men, not exceeding
three hundred in all. In three days he reached
Orkney, and touched there—a great error; for thus
his motions were made known to the Bishop of

I Orkney, who immediately communicated the intelli-
gence to the privy council. Two of Argyll’s friends
Mr. 'William Spence, his secretary, and Dr. Ivilliam
Blackadder, son of Mr. John Blackadder, having
gone ashore at Kirkwall, were also seized by order
of the bishop, who refused to surrender them; upon
which Argyll seized and carried off five or six of
the Orkney people as prisoners. From Orkney he
steered his course, by the inside of the Western

Kintyre; and, on arriving at Tarbet, published his

to other parties, found in the possession of Major ; Isles, for Islay; thence he sailed to Mull; thence to
llolmes.
‘ Register of Acts of Privy Council.
1 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell. 2 Ibid.





9 A
186
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





Declaration to his clan; but, being joined by fewer
in the Highlands than he had anticipated, and
meeting with various disasters, he at last found it
necessary, in order to secure his personal safety, to
disguise himself under the dress of a countryman.
Riding in disguise on horseback, he was attacked,
on the 17th of June, by two of the militia, who were
also on horseback, at the water of Inchinan. They
laid hold on him, one on each side, all the three being
on horseback; and the Earl grappling with them both,
one of them fell with him to the ground. His lord-
ship got up, and kept both at bay by presenting his
pocket pistols ; and he would have made his escape,
had not some come to the aid of the two militia. A
weaver there being awakened by the noise, came out
with a rusty broad-sword, and struck Argyll on the
head; which so stunned him that he fell into the
water, and in the fall cried out, “Ah! unfortunate
Argyll.” On knowing who he was, they seemed not
a little grieved; and would have let him go, had not
the terror of being punished by the government
prevented them. He was brought in prisoner to
Glasgow, and thence to Edinburgh, on the 20th of
June 1685, under a strong guard. He lingered so
long by the way, that it was near ten o’clock at
night before he arrived at the Watergate. On his ar-
rival there, he was met by Captain Graham’s guards,
who were appointed to conduct him to the Castle;
and his hands being tied behind his back by the
hangman, he walked on foot, bareheaded, to the
Castle, the hangman going before him. But, from
the lateness of the evening, few were spectators of
his ignominious treatment.
Though the Countess of Argyll had no share
whatever in this insurrection, yet the privy council,
on receiving intelligence that the Earl had touched
at Orkney, immediately issued orders that she should
be apprehended, and imprisoned in the Castle of
Stirling—that town being, at that time, the place
of her residence. After being confined there a short
time, she was conducted, on a Sabbath morning,
May the 10th, to Edinburgh, and on Monday secured
a prisoner in the Castle, where she was confined for
five or six weeks.‘ This step was altogether unex-
pected on her part; nor is it easy to see what im-
portant object the government could gain by making
her a prisoner. She was in no danger of taking up

arms and joining the standard of the Earl, like his 1

and despotic governments have often wreaked their
vengeance on the innocent and helpless relatives of
such as have risen up against their tyranny and
oppression; and, in the present instance, they had,
at least, the plea that the Countess, by corresponding
with the Earl after he had been denounced a traitor,
had rendered herself obnoxious to punishment. They,
besides, seem to have intended this as a retaliation
upon the Earl for his taking five or six of the Orkney
people prisoners. “His lady,” says Fountainhall,
“ and my Lord Neil, his brother, and his son James,
were secured prisoners in Edinburgh; and they were
threatened, that as he used the Orkney prisoners, so
should they be used.”1 The Countess’s daughter,
Lady Sophia, was, at the same time, imprisoned in
the tolbooth of Edinburgh, for an old offence—for
her concern in Argyll’s escape from the Castle, in
1681—for which, though threatened at the time,
she had never before been punished. Lady Sophia
continued prisoner during the same period as her
mother? It was fortunate for her, unprincij'iled and
tyrannical as were the men who then ruled in Sect-
land, that none of them equalled in brutal, or rather
diabolical, cruelty, J efl'reys, the chief-justice of Eng-
land—a man after James VH.’s own heart—who
presided at the western assizes after the suppres-
sion of Monmouth’s insurrection; else she would
assuredly have been condemned, without mercy, to
atone for her heroic deed by being burnt alive; or,
if any favour had been granted her, it would have
been only the poor favour of being first strangled,
and then thrown into the fire and consumed to ashes.
Such was the fate to which, by the sentence of that
infamous man, one Mrs. Gaunt was subjected, at
Tybnrn, for assisting one of Monmouth’s insurgents
in making his escape, and for giving him money;
which was just a case similar to that of the share
which Lady Sophia Lindsay had in the escape of
Argyll from the Castle of Edinburgh.3
On learning, after she had been imprisoned ten


son James, and his brother Lord Neil; who, with
many of the most substantial of the name of Camp-
bell, that they might be prevented from joining him,
were seized, and made close prisoners. But arbitrary
1Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell; Fountainhall’s Decisions,
vol. i., p. 362; and his Historical Observes, p. 189.
1 Fountainhall’s llistorical Observes, p. 167.
2 Meanwhile, her husband, the Honourable Charles Campbell,
narrowly escaped an ignominious death. He had accompanied his
father from Holland, on his expedition to Scotland; and being twice
sent ashore on the coast of Argyllshire ; at one time, to bring intel-
ligence of the disposition of the gentlemen and common people;
and the second time, to levy men, he fell sick of a fever when sent
ashore this second time, and was taken by the Marquis of Atholl,
who, by virtue of his justiciary power, resolved to hang him at his
father’s gate at Inrerary. “But,” says Fountainhall, “the privy
council, by the intercession of sundry ladies (for it was said he was
married to Lady Sophia Lindsay, Balearres’s sister, who conveyed
his father, in December 1681, out of Edinburgh Castle) stopped it
(July 16, 1685), and sent for him to he brought prisoner to Edin-
burgh.” On the 21st of August, he was forfeited, and banished for
life. In 1689, his forfeiture was rescinded—Fountainhall’s Decisions,
vol. i., p. 367; Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 105.
3 Fountainhall’s Historical Observes, p. 222.






COUN TESS OF ARGYLL.
187



days in the Castle of Edinburgh, that the Earl had
been apprehended, and was also a prisoner in the
Castle, the Countess was in great affliction. Her
fears respecting his fate caused her more distress
than her own personal sufferings; for she was fully
persuaded, and upon too good grounds, that he
would new fall a victim to the rage of his enemies.
In these circumstances, she was extremely anxious
to be admitted to an interview with him; but so
cruel was the privy council, that this was not granted
till a week after his imprisonment in the Castle, and
three days before his execution. The cruelty of this
she deeply felt, but she sought, and found support
and comfort in God. Her daughter, Lady Henrietta,
who, on being informed, though incorrectly, that her
own husband, Sir Duncan Campbell of Auchinbreck,
was apprehended, had gone to Edinburgh to learn
his fate, says, concerning her mother, after learning
for certain that he had escaped, “I was then more
enabled to make inquiry after my dear afflicted
mother, who was harshly treated, and seeing her
under so great affliction, by the approaching suf-
fering of such an endeared husband, and [that she]
had no access to him, till eight days after this fatal
stroke; this did again renew a very mournful pro-
spect of matters, which at this time had a very
strange aspect, so that if the Lord of life had not
supported, we had sunk under the trouble.” '
The Countess was admitted to see the Earl, for
the first. time, on the evening of Saturday, the 27th
of June. He was now bound in irons—a precaution
taken, from the moment he was imprisoned in the
Castle, to prevent his making a second escape; and
just before she entered, he had received information
that a letter had arrived that evening, from the king
to the privy council, ordering them to bring him to
condign punishment, within three days after the
letter came to their hands; but, amidst all that was
distressing in the interview, it was comforting to
her to find, that his mind was in a state of calm
submission to the Divine will, and of humble trust
in God for supporting grace under his sufferings. 2
Instead of being brought to a new trial, he was, on
the 29th of June, condemned, by the lords justiciary,
to be publicly beheaded at the cross of Edinburgh
on the following day, in pursuance of the sentence
formerly pronounced upon him, in his absence, for
high treason.3
On the forenoon of the day on which he was
executed, the Countess was again admitted to see
him before he died; and who, but such as have

.-_

been placed in similar circumstances, can conceive
the agonizing feelings which agitated their bosoms,
at this their last interview ! Scenes like this are so
deeply affecting, that even jailors, who have been
accustomed to scenes of suffering, have been unable
to witness them without being moved to tears. There
was, however, in the present case, every alleviating
circumstance which Christian character and Chris-
tian consolation could afford. Though he was soon
to die, and the penalty could not be avoided, he had
done nothing of which she had reason to be ashamed,
or for which he deserved death at the hands of men.
Though when admitted by the jailer into his cell,
she found him loaded with chains, she found him
not abject and crushed in spirit by remorse, but
enjoying the tranquillity of conscious innocence,
and that peace of God which the world can neither
give nor take away; and this greatly sustained and
soothed her mind. “ The day being appointed for his
suffering," says her daughter Lady Henrietta, “she
had access to him, and though under deep distress,
was encouraged by seeing the bounty and gracious-
ness of the Lord to him, in enabling him, with great
courage and patience, to undergo what he was to
meet with, the Lord helping him to much fervency
in supplication, and nearness in pouring out his
heart with enlargcdness of affection, contrition, and
resignation, which did strangely fortify and embolden
him to maintain his integrity, before his merciless
enemies; and by this he was helped at times to
great cheerfulness, and fortified under his trial,
and the testimony he was to give of his zeal and
favour to that righteous cause he was honoured to
suffer for.” 1 On the morning of the day on which
he was executed, “he spoke freely of the joy with
which the Lord had blessed him during the time he
had been in Holland—that, as he observed, being the
sweetest time of his life, and of the mercifulness of
his escape to that end; but rejoiced more in that
complete escape he was to have that day from sin
and sorrow; and yet in a little he fell into some
damp,”2 and found the last interview, and especially
the final parting with his Countess, a severe trial to
his fortitude; nor was it a less severe trial to hers.
They indeed felt it to be the greatest trial they had
to undergo. “In parting with my mother,” says
Lady Henrietta, “he was observed to have more
concern than in any circumstance formerly; and it
was to her a bitter parting, to be taken from him
whom she loved so dearly.” 3 After their final

1 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
2 \Yodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 295.
3 Drummond’s Memoirs of Sir Ewen Campbell of Locheill, p. 216. _
1 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
- Ihitl.
3 lbid. The final parting between that illustrious patriot, Lord
William Russell, who was condemned to be executed for the Rye




_ ~L._~—-(‘

188
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.

adieu, and when she was removed from his cell, “he
recovered a little; and as the time of his death drew
near, which was some hours after, the Lord was
pleased wonderfully to shine on him, to the dispel-
ling of clouds and fears, and to the admitting him to
a more clear and evident persuasion of his blessed
favour, and the certainty of his being so soon
happy.”1
The last memorial of the Earl’s affectionate re-
membrance of her, which the Countess received,
was the following letter, which he wrote to her from
the “ Laigh Council House,” whither he was brought
a short time before his execution. It is brief, for
then his time was short and precious; and is as fol-
lows :—
“Dnan HEART,——AS God is of himself unchange-
able, so he hath been always good and gracious to
me, and no place alters it; only I acknowledge 1
am sometimes less capable of a due sense of it; but
now, above all my life, 1 thank God I am sensible of
his presence with me, with great assurance of his
favour, through Jesus Christ, and I doubt not it
will continue till 1 be in glory.
“ Forgive me all my faults ; and now comfort thy-
self in him, in whom only true comfort is to be
found. The Lord be with thee, bless thee, and
comfort thee, my dearest! Adieu l—My dear, thy
faithful and loving husband, ARGYLL.” 2
This letter had a very consoling effect upon the
mind of the Countess. It had been her earnest
prayer, that God would impart to the Earl support-
ing grace to the last, and prepare him for a happy
eternity. Her prayers were heard; and great as was
her mental anguish, her heart was filled with grati-
tude to God, who had enabled him to display the
faith and the heroism of the martyr. “ The
certainty of his being so soon happy,” says her
daughter, Lady Henrietta, “of which he expressed
his sense, in his last letter to my dear mother, could


not but sweeten her lot in her greatest sorrow, and
was ground of greatest thankfulness, that the Lord
helped him to the last, to carry with such magnani-
rnity, resolution, contentment of mind, and true
valour, under this dark-like providence, to endless
blcssedness. And though the loss of so great a
Protestant was grief of mind to all that had any
tender heart, and to friends, was a universal, inex-
pressible, breaking-like dispensation, yet in so far
as he was enabled, under cruel suffering, to such
tranquillity, peace and comfort, this was to them
ground of praise, and an answer to their prayers.” ‘
The Countess’s two daughters by her first hus-
band, Lady Sophia and Lady Henrietta, also
received each of them a letter from the Earl. Both
these letters are without date, but they were pro-
bably written in the “Laigh Council House,” at the
same time when he wrote his last letter to his
Countess. For his letter to Henrietta, the reader
is referred to our sketch of the life of that lady.
The letter which Lady Sophia received from him,
bears testimony, like that which he wrote to her
mother, to the heavenly joy which filled his soul in
the near prospect of death. It is as follows :—
“MY DEAR LADY SoPnrA,—W hat shall I say in
this great day of the Lord, wherein, in the midst of
a cloud, 1 find a fair sunshine. 1 can wish no more
for you, but that the Lord may comfort you, and
shine upon you, as he doth upon me, and give you
that same sense of his love in staying in the world,
as I have in going out of it. Adieu! ARGYLL.”
“PS. My blessing to dear Earl of Balcarres. The
Lord touch his heart, and incline him to his fear!” 2
According to his sentence, Argyll was beheaded
on the afternoon of the 30th of June. His behaviour
on the scaffold is particularly narrated by Wodrow.
It has been said, that he was somewhat appalled at
the sight of the maiden, and that he therefore caused
bind the napkin upon his face, ere he approached it,
and was then led to it. 3 It is, however, admitted
by all, that he met death with much Christian for~
titude. Among other things, he said on the scaffold,
“ 1 die not only a Protestant, but with a heart-
hatrcd of Popery, Prelacy, and all superstition
whatsoever.” His last words, which he repeated
three times as he lay with his head on the maiden,
were, “ Lord Jesus, receive me into thy glory.” It
is a remarkable fact, that, as is recorded by Foun~
tainhall, after his head had been struck off, his body,

House plot, and his lady, who had an uncommon affection for him,
was, in like manner, felt by them to be the most trying scene through
which they had to pass. A few days before his execution, when
Lady Russell left his apartment, he observed that “the parting with
her was the greatest thing he had to do, for he feared she would
hardly be able to bear it.” But both of them were enabled, on that
occasion, wonderfully to control their emotions, and to display great
magnanirnity of spirit. “With a deep and noble silence; with a
long and fixed look, in which respect and affection, unmingled with
passion, were expressed,” they took their last farewell of each other ;
“ he great in this last act of his life, she greater. His eyes followed
her while she quitted the room; and when he lost sight of her,
turning to Dr. Burnet, who attended him as his chaplain, he said,
‘ The bitterness of death is now past.’ ”—Sir J olm Dalrymplc’s
Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. i., pp. 31, 32.
1 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 303.
1 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 303.
3 Fountainhall’s Historical Observes, p. 191.


COUNTESS OF ARGYLL.
189


by the great commotion and agitation of the animal
and vital spirits, started upright to his feet, till it
was held down, and the blood, from the jugular
veins of the neck, sprung most briskly, like a
cascade or jet of water.1 “Thus fell,” adds the
same writer, “that tall and mighty cedar in our
Lebanon, the last of an ancient and honourable
family.” 2
In the month of August, after the execution of
the Earl, the Countess accompanied her daughter,
Lady Henrietta, to London, with the design of
assisting her in her intercessions with the govern-
ment, in behalf of her husband, Sir Duncan Campbell,
of Auchinbreck, who had been involved in Argyll’s
insurrection, and had taken ref uge in Holland. She
remained in London with her daughter, in prosecu-
tion of this object, for about seven or eight months;
after which, all their efforts proving unsuccessful,
she returned to Scotland; while her daughter, in
March or April 1686, embarked for Holland, to join
her husband. On her return to Scotland, she resided
during the summer of that year at Stirling. 3
Of the subsequent history of the Countess, little
is known. We meet with an allusion to her in a
letter addressed by Sir James Stewart, Lord Advo-
cate of Scotland, to Mr. WVilliam Carstairs, dated
“Edinburgh, September 14, 1697.” The passage
relates to her anxiety about her son, Colin, third
Earl of Balcarres, who had become obnoxious to the
government of King William, in consequence of his
concern in the plot of Sir James Montgomery, of
Skelmorly, to restore King James.‘ “I also ac-
quainted you,” says the Lord Advocate, “ how I was
ordered to prosecute the process of treason, remitted
by the Parliament 1695 to the justice court, which
was not my inclination at this time; but now that I
move in it, it much alarms the Lady Skelmorly for
her husband’s memory. . . . . The Countess of Argyll
is also much troubled for her son Balcarres; she says
it will waken his creditors, and mar his daughters’
marriages. I told her that her son, if he pleased,
might now apply to the king, at the Hague.” ‘ Colin
walked on foot to the Hague, and solicited the
friendly otlices of Carstairs; who told King William
that a man he had once favoured2 was now in so low
a condition, that he had footed it from Utrecht that
morning, to desire him to speak for him. “ If that
be the case,” said the generous IVillia-m, “let him
go home ; he has sufliercd enough.” The Earl “ac-
cordingly returned to Scotland,” says Lord Lindsay,
“towards the end of 1700, after ten years’ exile;
and his mother had thus the happiness of once more
embracing him before her death.”3 “On his being
permitted to return from exile,” says the same writer,
“she was still living at Stirling; she even survived
in 1706, but of the precise period of her death I am
ignorant. Few lots in life have been so chequered
as hers; and few, doubtless, ever laid down theirhead
on the pillow of death with more heartfelt satisfac-
tion. During a long and active life, she had but few
gleams of unalloyed earthly happiness; and it was
well for her that her hopes were anchored on another
and a better world, ‘where the wicked cease from
troubling, and the weary are at rest.’ ”‘


1 Fountainhall’s Historical Observes, p. 194.
2 The following scene, which occurred at the execution of Argyll,
as described by Fountainhall, may be quoted, as illustrating the
manners of that period. “ It was reported,” says he, “ when
Argyll’s corpse were carrying away off the scaffold, a woman of the
l’opish religion followed the bearers, with railing, and wished she
could wash her hands in his heart blood, some other women, hear-
ing this, it did so lar provoke their choler, that they seized on her,
and dragged her to a close foot, near the North Loch side, and there
beat her soundly, and tore her clothes, and robbed her of her
crucifix and beads.”—Iii~torical Observes, p. 197.
3 Diary of Lady Henrietta Campbell.
‘ This plot was discovered in 1600 -. upon which, the Earl of Bal-
-,___ ,.4_ __
carres left the country. He waited on the abdicated monarch at
St. Gcrn1ains,who received him with great affection. He published,
‘ in 1714, a small work, entitled, “An Account of the Affairs of Scot-
l land relating to the Revolution, 1688.” On the breaking out of the
l rebellion, in 1715, he joined the Pretender’s standard; but, through
' the clemency of the government, he escaped nnpnnishcd. He died
* in 1722, aged about seventy.—l)0uglas’s Peerage, \'01.i., pp. 169-171.
1 Carstairs’ state Papers, p. 343.
2 See Appendix, Ne. XIII.
3 Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii., p. 190.
4 Ibid., vol. ii., pp. 119—155. For extracts from a very interesting
and able letter which the Countess wrote to her son Colin, Iiarl of
Balcarres, see Appendix, No. XIII.

l


HENRIETTA LINDSAY,
LADY CAMPBELL, OF AUCHINBRECK.‘l

HENRIETTA LINDSAY was the third and youngest“
daughter of Alexander, first Earl of Balcarres, by
his wife, Lady Anne Mackenzie, the subject of the
preceding sketch. She was born about the close of
the year 1657, or early in the year 1658; as appears
from a statement made in her diary, that at the time
of her father’s death, which took place in August
1659, she was not two years old.2 At so early an
age, she could not remember her father, much less
derive profit from his instructions and example. But
in her eminently pious mother she found an affec-
tionate and well-qualified instructress in the things
of God; as well as a constant pattern of the most
attractive features of the Christian character. Nor
was this great privilege lost upon her. From the
exemplary piety of some female servants in the
family, she also derived much religious advantage in
her tender years. She mentions that this was the
means of first stirring her up to aim, in some serious
manner, at the duty of prayer, which, at times, was
made sweet to her; and, from the experience of her
younger days, she makes the following very judi-
cious and important observation: “It cannot but
be recommended, that care ought to be taken to
have well-inclined and conscientious servants, of an
agreeable temper, about young ones.”
When only a little past thirteen years of age, she
made a public profession of Christ at the Lord’s
table, at VVeems. In our day, a child of this age


i
g
l
l
g

is seldom admitted to so solemn an ordinance; but
such early admissions were by no means rare in the
best days of the Church of Scotland. Henrietta
was, however, far from being satisfied with the
manner in which she made this, her first approach,
to the table of the Lord. She acknowledges that
there yet “remained in her great ignorance, and
estrangedness from the life and power of Christianity,
save by faint wishes, which prompted her to some
formal going about duties,” and to this duty among
others; that, as she afterwards discovered, she had
presumed upon it “from great rashness, and, no
doubt, ignorance of the hazard of such an adven-
ture;” and that, “therefore, no sensible benefit could
be discovered; which, after some months, was made
cause of dread and terror to her.” These convictions
of her having profaned the sacrament of the Lord’s
Supper, were first produced on her mind at Inverary,
under the ministry of Mr. Patrick Campbell, when,
in consequence of the marriage of her mother to the
Earl of Argyll, she was brought to reside at the
Castle of Inverary, the seat of that nobleman. The
sermons she there heard Mr. Campbell preach, had
an awakening effect upon her, “which,” says she,
writing after his death, which took place subse-
quently to the Revolution, “will ever endear his
memory to me.” She also records that, at this time,
aweekly cateehetical exercise in the family of the
Earl of Argyll, conducted by Mr. Cumming, a man
“ of eminent piety and learning,” was made greatly
useful to her, issuing in her greater liking to spiri=
tual concerns. Brought, by these means, to a con-
viction of the danger of her natural state, she was
led to renounce her own righteousness as insuificient
to form the ground of her justification before God,
j and to seek salvation only in the finished work of

the blessed Mediator. It, indeed, appears to have
been her own impression, that it was only now that
she became the subject of the regenerating and
saving grace of the Spirit of God. Going with the
Earl of Argyll’s family to Kintyre, where they stayed
a month or five weeks, she had “access to hear sweet
and powerful truths at Campbeltown, under Mr.
Cameron’s and Mr. Keith’s ministry,‘ who were two

1 The materials of this sketch, unless when otherwise indicated
by the references at the foot of the page, are taken from Lady
Campbell’s diary, 3. copy of which is among the Wodrow MRS. in
the Advocates’ Library, vol. xxxL, 8V0, no. 8. This copy was written
out by Wodrow himself, from the original, which he received from
Mr. John Anderson, minister of Kirkmaiden, who received it from
Lady Campbell herself. Mr. Anderson, in a letter to Wodrow,
dated Kirkmaiden, October 24, 1721, says, “ I have Lady Henrietta
Campbell’s diary, written with her own hand, and carried down to
her arrival at Edinburgh, ann01689. She was pleased to compli-
ment me with it the last time I parted with her, having a double of
it for herself. The whole of it concerns her own exercises, from her
early conversion and experience of the work of grace, to that time.
I have seldom read anything more edifying; and, therefore, could
wish to see what further accounts she has left to her last sickness,
and could have hopes of getting the same from her son, Sir James,
if I were at his house.”—Letters to Wodrow, vol. xv. no. 78. And,
in a letter to Wodrow in January 1722, he says, in a postscript,
“ Since I wrote the above, I received yours, dated January 1st, and
shall some time send you Lady llenrietta’s diary, or, at least, bring
it with me, about the end of April, or beginning of May. I design
to take two weeks about Glasgow before 1 go to the Assembly.”—
Ibid., vol. xv. no. 81.
2 See p 185.
1 Mr. John Cameron was, at the Restoration, minister of Kilfin-
nan, from which he was ejected for nonconformity, and, in 1672, he
was appointed, in the indulgence of the privy council of September




LADY CAMPBELL, OF AUCHINBRECK.
191


eminent lights there.’ During this time, her young
heart was drawn forth in ardent love to her Saviour,
and she was much engaged in the secret exercises
of religion, in which she found great delight.
After this she was brought, with Argyll’s family,
to Edinburgh. 'While residing in the capital, she
had an opportunity of hearing the ejected ministers
preach in private houses; and the powerful impres-
sion which their sermons made upon her own heart,
as well as the blessed effects they produced upon
many others who heard them, created in her mind
an esteem for these excellent men, which she found
it impossible to feel for the curates, whose ministry
was attended with little evidence of the presence
and power of God. Such was the contemplative
character of her mind, that even then, though only
in the fifteenth or sixteenth year of her age, she had
reasoned herself into the impropriety, if not the sin-
fulncss, of hearing the curates; not only because of
the cold and unimpressive character of their dis-
courses, but also, because she believed that, by the
Solemn League and Covenant, Britain was solemnly
engaged against Prelacy. She thus writes: “After
this we were brought to Edinburgh; where, after
several months of ups and downs as to comfort,
there was access unexpectedly to gospel ordinances
in private families, that proved not empty cisterns to
me, but were made as the conduit to derive streams
from the fountain; for which, 0 to be helped to
praise! and, though a time of persecution, yet the
Lord favoured his people there with several power-
ful sermons, in these private meetings, which did
engage, to great esteem and affection, to these his
sent servants, who were peculiarly countenanced,
beyond what I could perceive among others of a dif-
ferent persuasion. This was a privilege Mr. Cum-
ming was instrumental in procuring. Learning then
to lay to heart the misery our nation was groaning
under, by being reduced to formal, lifeless, teachers
that then were in our churches, and by the silencing
our more faithful ministers, that were removed to
corners, it became, from this time, matter of bitter-
ness to me to hear any other than them; having the
deep impression of the ties our nation was under
to have abolished this woeful, Episcopal, tyrannical
power, that had so sad effects.”
Personal dedication to God, in a written form, in
which the person gives himself, or herself, up to he

3
the Lord’s alone, and for ever, is an exercise which
has often been engaged in by the pious young, in
the youthful ardour of their religious feelings; and
though, if performed in a self-righteous spirit, it
may be the means of fostering dangerous delusion,
yet, if performed evangelically, in the way of the
person’s renouncing all dependence on his own righ-
teousness and strength, trusting to Christ’s righ-
teousness alone for salvation, and to God’s grace for
strength to perform the engagements come under,
it may, and has often been, highly profitable to him,
both at the time and afterwards, encouraging him to
cleave to God and his service in difficulties, in peril,
and even in death. So much was the heart of this
young lady drawn out to God, under the sermons
of the ejected ministers, that she resolved, by a
solemn transaction of this nature, to make an entire
surrender of herself to Him; and, upon her going to
the country, where her greater seclusion afforded
her more convenience for such an exercise, she en-
gaged in it with peculiar solemnity. “But,” says
she, “in these corners there was such sweetness
found in the preached word out of the mouths of
his sent servants (as Mr. Gilbert Hall, that shining
light, and Mr. George Johnston), as did lead me to
a further solicitude how to close with these great
gospel offers, the publication of a Saviour to undone
sinners being then made sweet; so that I purposed,
if the Lord should give opportunity, that I should
essay that indispensable duty of covenanting; which,
accordingly, I did in the sixteenth year of my age,
when brought to the country, at Balcarres,l where I
enjoyed more of solitude in a retired lot.” The
covenant which she had written out, and subscribed
with her own hand, has not been preserved; but her
whole account of the transaction breathes a spirit
strictly evangelical, as well as devout. She declares
that she was much countenanced in that work, in the
Lord’s enabling her to improve the glad tidings of
salvation, without which she felt herself to be lost
for ever. She also testifies, that this solemn dedica-
tion was the means of her attaining “ great settled-
ness and serenity of mind;” and that then she was
“taken up more than usually in the exercises of
delight and praise to the renowned name of him
who is the blessed Rose of Sharon, and Lily of the
valleys; which made those retirements from a vain
world sweet to her for some weeks after.” She
adds, “The singing of Psalm xlv. was frequently
made sweet to me, in those retired walks in Dalcarres
planting.”
After this she resided for a time at Stirling; and

that year, indulged minister of that parish. From the statement in
the text, it would appear that he had liCtIl subsequently appointed
indulged minister of Campbeltown. Mr. Edward Keith was, at the
Restoration, minister of Lochead, from which he was also ejected
for noneonformity. He was appointed, in 1672, indulged minister
of Campheltcwn.—Wcdrow’s History, vol. i., p. 528; and vol. ii.,
p. 204-.
1i.e., at Balearres llouse, the seat of her brother, the Earl of
. Balcarres, in the parish of Kilconquhar, Fifeshire.
l
19:2
THE COVENANT.
TllE LADIES Oh‘


,.____
she adverts to several private meetings for sermon,
at which she was presentw-some of them in the
night, because of the persecution-——by which she was
strengthened and edified.
Her early scruples about hearing the curates con-
tinuing to increase, she very soon altogether with»
drew from attending their ministry, and, though
frowned upon for this by some in high places, she
had the moral courage to act in conformity with her
deliberate convictions of duty, in spite of censures
and sneers, and enjoyed the inward satisfaction which
always accompanies fidelity to conscience. “Being
again,” says she, “some time after this, brought to
Edinburgh, it was found greatly atllicting to attend
on these time-serving formal sermons, which then
were authorized by authority, and became matter of
bitterness, and was such a grievance as did neces~
saril y oblige me to withdraw from frequenting them,
both at Stirling and at Edinburgh; and though ill
looked upon by some then in power, for being
scrupulous about this, yet there was more peace in
this, from considerations that were considerable to
a mind that was solicitons anent clearness.”
Lady Henrietta had been early admitted to the
Lord’s Supper, and though she afterwards believed
that she was then an unworthy partaker, yet this
neither cast her into despair, nor led her to neglect
the observance of this ordinance in future, but rather
served to excite her to ‘diligence in seeking after the
qualifications of a worthy cormnunicant. Numerous
evidences occur in her diary, of the high veneration
with which she contemplated that sacred institution,
and of the spiritual comfort and profit she had derived
from its observance. In that document, aparticular
account is given of not less than twenty of these
solemn occasions,1 at which she was a eonnnunicant.
About this time she went to Cambusnethan, where
Hr. William Violant, whom she describes as “that
shining light,” was indulged minister, to observe the
Lord’s Supper, though the distance was great from
Balcarres, to which she had removed some time
before, and she stayed in the house of Sir Thomas
Stewart of Coltness, where she met with much kind-
ness, both from friends and strangers.
From Cambusnethan she returned to Edinburgh,
where, for a season, through the violence of the
persecution, she had no opportunity of hearing the
gospel preached. She felt her “silent Sabbaths
very bitter,” though the secret exercises of religion
were very comforting to her; and she again set

I These are one at Wcems, one at Pittenweem, one at Tillicoultry,
one at Paisley, one at Cambusnethan, one at Killnllan, one at Diric-
tcn, three at Campbeltown, one at London, one at Delf, and eight
at Rotterdam.


apart some time, for renewing her former transac-
tion of self-dedication to be the Lord’s, “which
Bethel-day was made among the sweetest she ever
had on earth.” At length, in private houses, she
frequently enjoyed “sweet gospel days, notwith-
standing the severities enjoined ;” and at these
meetings, “which were wonderfully hedged, and pro-
tected from that avenging persecution,” Mr. Alex-
ander Moncrieff and Mr. John Carstairs, “those
great and shining lights, were helped marvellously
to deliver great truths,” and enabled to display
“great boldness of spirit, and resolution in the
discharge of their Master’s work.”
About this time she went to the sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper at Dirleton, and, returning home, she
fell into a languishing condition of body; but, on
her removal to Balcarres, she gradually recovered.
When previously residing at Balcarres, she had at-
tended the curate of the parish, “whose ministry was
a heavy burden in the place ;” but now, more true to
her convictions, she altogether absented herself; and
yet, on this account, offensive as her conduct might
be to the curate, neither her friends nor strangers
frowned upon her. Returning to Inverary, she
regularly heard Mr. Patrick Campbell preach once
every Sabbath, and also derived much spiritual profit
from the fellowship and example of some experienced
Christians in the parish. She records that, about
this time, Mr. Alexander Wedderburn, “that emi-
nent shining light,” paid a visit to Inverary, and
remained several weeks, during which time his
ministry was accompanied with much evidence of
the power and presence of God. Shortly after, she
and several of her friends went to the sacrament of
the Lord’s Supper at Killallan,I of which Mr. James
Hutchison was indulged minister; and, on the close
of this occasion, she spent some weeks with the
Marchioness of Argyll, at her. residence at Rose-
neath, where, for several sabbaths, she had the
pleasure of listening to the pastoral instructions of
Mr. Neil Gillies, indulged minister in that place.
Leaving the Marchioness of Argyll, she returned
to Inverary, and was soon after united in marriage
to Sir Duncan Campbell, fourth baronet of Auchin-
breck, who was descended from the same stock as
the Earl of Argyll, to whom he was only second in
the county of Argyll. He succeeded his uncle, Sir
Dugald, who died without issue, soon after the
restoration of Charles II? After her marriage, she
went to dwell at the residence of Sir Duncan, at
Lochgair, a mansion of great size, but which was

‘Killallan and Houstoun form a united parish, now generally
Called Houstoun. .
2 Douglas’s Baronage of Scotland, p. 62.



LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBRECK.
193


east to the ground when the property went to other
hands.1 Here she found her lot “ abundantly credit-
able,” and also very comfortable, meeting with
“ much fond affection and kindness,” both from Sir
Duncan and from his relations; “ which,” says she,
“with all dutiful affection, will be ever remembered
with the greatest gratitude.” The only want she
appears to have felt in this remote locality, was her
deprivation of the preaching of the gospel, “these
bounds being then as a heath in the wilderness, as
to the means of grace;” for the minister of the
parish, like too many of the intruded curates, was a
corrupt insignificant teacher. On some occasions,
however, though rarely, by reason of the persecu—
tion, she received visits from nonconforming mini-
sters, by whose society and instruction she was
greatly refreshed.
Previous to her confinement, she went to Edin-
burgh, where, on the 30th of January, her son
James, a child whom she devoted to God from the
womb, and who afterwards succeeded his father,
was born. Some weeks after, she and Sir Duncan,
with their child, returned to Lochgair ; and, not
withstanding the severity with which the persecu-
tion then raged, they enjoyed much tranquillity
during the most of that year. At this time, the
Earl of Argyll paying them a visit, invited them to
come and stay with him for a few months, at the
Castle of Inverary. They readily accepted his in
vitation, and took along with them their infant boy,
who was there “nursed with his grandmother with
the greatest affection and tenderness.”
In July, she and Sir Duncan, with their child, went
to Kintyre, with the most of the Earl of Argyll’s and
her mother’s families, forming a numerous company.
Their society was exceedingly agreeable, and they
had an opportunity of attending at the dispensation
of the Lord’s Supper in that place, on two Sabbaths
in succession.2 All of them, but especially Lady
Campbell and her mother, were much interested in
the services of these solemn occasions; “which,” says
Lady Campbell, writing after the Revolution, “were '
made a double meal to many; and, indeed, as this
meal was doubled to many, so many had a long
journey to go in the strength of it, as was sweetly
forewarned, and with great utterance and liveliness


1 Xew Statistical Account of Scotland, Kilmichael-(llav-s try,
Argyllshire, p. (155i. The Campbell of Auchenbrcck family heid
their baron bailie courts at Kilmichael, then a populous village, and
a place of considerable importance, not only to the parish, but also
in the county.
2 Mr. David Simpson was indulged minister of Kintyre, in 1672.
He was €33€Ct6d from his ministry at Sonthend, after the Restoration,
for nonconformityn-Wodrow’s History, voL i., p. 328; and vol. ii.,
p. 213%.

was told us. I never saw such a sight of young com-
municants, or more seriousness, the seeds whereof, it
is hoped, do remain in that place, that is blessed
again with a powerful signalizing ministry.” She
adds, “These two eminent lights soon after were
put out, by the removal of Mr. Cameron and Mr.
Keith, as a. sad presage to the place and to our
nation; as indeed appeared immediately after, by
the growing desolation and trouble that daily in-
creased ; to the putting a further restraint on mini-
sters and people, many of whom were imprisoned,
harassed, chased to the hazard of their lives, the
violating of the consciences of others, and the fear-
ful bloodshed of many; retrenching our liberties, so
that it was made a crime to meet, or convene to the
worship of the living God, except in such a manner
as our nation was solemnly sworn against; laying
bonds on ministers not to preach, or people to hear,
under such and such penalties, fines, hazards, as
were endless to rehearse ; things running to such a
height, to the introducing of Popery itself, if the
Lord had not prevented, that there were almost no
thinking persons but were under the dread and
fear of this approaching judgment. Thus, for several
years, was this growing speat of persecution groaned
under by many families and persons, which, when
called to mind, cannot but excite to wonder, bearing
witness to this cruel bondage, much like to the case
of those in Psalm lxvi. 1%, ‘Thou hast caused men
to ride over our heads ; we went through fire and
through water; but thou broughtest us out into a
wealthy )ldCtZ,’ for which, O to be helped to go to
thy house with burnt-offerings, that each of us may
pay those vows which our lips have uttered and our
months have spoken, when we were in this trouble I”
Lady Campbell’s attachment to the cause of non-
conformity, as might be expected, created her
opposition, remote as was the part of the country
where she resided; for in the most remote localities
there were always some individuals-the curates, if
no others—who made it their business to discover
such as were hostile to Prelacy, and to entail on
them the penalties of persecution. In the year
1684:, an attempt was made, owing to the malignity
or cupidity of base informers, to banish the worship
of God from her house; as appears from her grate-
fully speaking of the Lord’s “mercifully hiding her
as in a pavilion, even from the strife of tongues, and
of his never to be forgotten mercy under the adver-
saries’ bold attack to turn the worship of God out
of her family.” From this general statement, the
particular circumstances of the case can only be
guessed at. As it was then perfectly legal for the
master of a family to assemble his own domestics



2 B
19%
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



for reading the Scriptures and for prayer, Sir Dun-
can—had the government been regulated by their
own laws, which, however, was not always the case
—could not have been found fault with, and punished
for performing those duties himself. It may there-
fore be supposed, that be retained in his family, a
Presbyterian chaplain, whose duty it was to lead
the devotions at the domestic altar; and that the
government being informed of this, Sir Duncan was
threatened with prosecution, or actually prosecuted
on that ground. The result she does not declare;
but, as an evidence of their firmness of purpose, it
may be mentioned, that, when the case was pending,
and occasioning them no small anxiety, they cordially
welcomed, into their house at Lochgair, an ejected
minister, who unexpectedly paid them a visit, though
such hospitality was then in no small degree perilous;
and they, moreover, during his stay with them,though
at the risk of heavy penalties, gladly converted their
house into a little sanctuary, where their domestics
and neighbours assembled to hear the words of
eternal life at his mouth.
thus under unaccountable thoughtfulness about the
event, and great trouble, the Lord directed one of
his faithful and chosen servants unexpectedly to
our family, the Rev. Mr. Robert Muir, eminent in
his day; and though the time was difliculting, yet
Sir Duncan was moved to favour and welcome him,
and would not part with him for some weeks; which
was made a seasonable refreshing visit to some.
Those lectures, and family exercise and sermons,
were made often as life from the dead, not only
instructing to the great conviction of severals, but
were made strengthening and comforting to others;
and though severals did meet together during his
being with us, yet never did the least trouble fol-
low, save to part again, which was not easy to
many.” Mr. Muir, as we shall see in the sequel,
had afterwards an opportunity of repaying the kind-
ness he at this time received from Lady Campbell
and Sir Duncan, when his hosts were brought into
circumstances of distress.
In the winter following, that is, about the close
of the year 1684, or the beginning of the year 1685,
Sir Duncan being unjustly and maliciously accused
of uttering expressions reflecting on the govern-
ment, for which he was in danger of prosecution, she
proceeded along with him to Edinburgh, through a
great fall of snow, with the design, it would appear,
of leaving the country; but, on reaching the capital,
they were happily relieved from this threatened
trouble; and, staying there for some weeks, they
had opportunity, though but seldom, of hearing the
gospel preached by some of the nonconforming

“But,” says she, “ while '


ministers. At this time Charles II. died; an event
which, severe as the persecution had been under his
reign, excited, from the well-known cruelty and
bigotry of his brother James, who succeeded him,
the most alarming apprehensions in regard to the
future. “In which time,” says she, “King Charles’
death fell out, which ushered in great agitation in
the minds of many, who did foresee and fear what
indeed did follow; matters being screwed to such
a height, as Protestants could not but be greatly
alarmed; which unquestionably gave rise to the late
Earl of Argyll’s project from Holland, the Lord
seeing it meet to move the heart of severals to bestir
themselves in behalf of their religion and liberty,
when so largely run down; as did evidently appear
by the scaffolding, dragooning, torturing, and bar-
barous practices among us, so that either our ruin
or relief seemed to be at hand.”
The summer after this, she and Sir Duncan were
residing at Carnassary Castle,l which stood on an
eminence, at the head of the valley of Kilmartin,
anciently called Stratlnnore, and the ruins of which
are still to be seen. While residing here, she enjoyed
for some weeks the society of her “ desirable sister,”
Lady Sophia. At the same time she was attacked
by a high fever, and in her sickness was visited by
her mother, who, on her recovery, prevailed with
her to accompany her and Lady Sophia to Stirling,
and live there with her and her sister, till her health
should be more fully recruited.
During the time of her stay with her mother at
Stirling, tidings came to the government that the
Earl of Argyll had touched at Orkney; upon which,
as has already been recorded, her “dear mother”
was, by an order of the privy council, immediately
apprehended, and carried prisoner to Stirling Castle,
and thence, on a Sabbath morning, to the Castle of
Edinburgh. Her “dear sister,” Lady Sophia, was
also imprisoned; and many of the most substantial
of the Campbell name were seized, and made close
prisoners in the Canongate tolbooth. Some days
after, Sir Duncan, on receiving intelligence of the
Earl’s coming to Campbeltown, and the need he had
of aid, willing to hazard his all to promote the
design of this undertaking, went, through manifold
difficulties, and even at the peril of his life, to join
him, with a considerable number of his men,‘‘’ who,

1Carnassary Castle was the residence of Mr. John Carsewell,
when, after the Reformation from Popery, he became superintend—
ent of Argyll; and, after his death, which took place in the year
1575, it became the property and occasional residence of the
Campbclls of Auchinbreck—New Statistical Account of Scotland,
Kilmartin, Argyllshirc, pp. 555, 556.
2 Wodrow says eight hundred—History, vol. iv., p. 290. Foun-
tainhall says two hundred. “Sir Duncan Campbell of Auchinhreck,”



LADY CAMPBELL 01*‘ AUCHINBRECK.
195




however, continued not long together; for they
were “scatterer,” says Lady Can'ipbell, “to the’
unaccountable grief and sadness of many, who were '
breathing for a deliverance.” l
lVith much bitterness of spirit she took leave!
of Sir Duncan at Stirling, when he was about to‘
join Argyll; for she dreaded the result; nor was'
she altogether satisfied as to the expediency of the
undertaking, though the la'udableness of the object
prevented her from making any opposition. “A
time,” says she, “ not to be forgotten was this, and
what this parting was when he left me at Stirling.
And though it became me not to be so selfish, as to
stand in the way of a more public concern, when so
much seemed to be at the stake, yet I was far from
encouraging him in it; because I had not that
elearness in it that could have been wished. The
seen danger he was exposed to at this time, was as
the bereaving me of my life, so much was it bound
up in him; but the Lord was graciously pleased to
support, so that some of those days were made
wonderful, and any time spent alone was more
than ordinarily countenanced, and these loncliest
times were made sweeter than could have been
expected, although under the prospect- of heavy
times to follow.” She continues, “The fOllOWilig'
day, we had the unaccountable, sad, and dismal
notice of the ruin of that undertaking, wherein the
expections of many were sadly defeated; but the
Lord’s time was not come for our deliverance, and
that which did greatly aggravate the terribleness of


that stroke was the dreadful aspect these circum-i
stances appeared to have, not possible to relate’?
sufferings of various kinds being from all airthsl
expected, and an increase of our thraldom greatly
dreaded.”
On the subsequent day, at St. Ninians, she passed,
in deep disguise, through several guards, in order
to obtain more certain intelligence respecting her
nearest friends; and, learning that they were in
danger, she was greatly distressed. She watched
during the greater part of that night, and returned
at four o’clock in the morning to Stirling; where,
on being informed that Sir Duncan was on the road,
her fears regarding his safety were heightened.
Taking leave that day of her “dear Jamie,” whom i
“ the Lord provided friends to care for,” though she
left him very destitute, having no relative to whom
she could intrust him—her mother and sister being
at this time prisoners—she, with much confusion


says he, “ with two hundred men, went to him, under the pretence :
he was bound by his charter to assist him; which cannot oblige him
against the king, nor defend him for trea—‘o!1.”—l)c(:i5ions, vol. 1.,
p. l
and agitation of mind, set out for Edinburgh, walk-
ing and riding alternately. When some miles on
her journey, being then on foot, she unexpectedly
met, near Falkirk, the Earl of Argyll, who was
brought that length prisoner on his way to Edin-
burgh; “which,” says she, “was a mournful sight
to one who bore him so great affection.” He does
not, however, appear to have observed her. She
was in deep disguise, and did not venture to come
near him, but held up in the rear, at some distance,
most part of the way, till the horse on which she
was riding failed. Judging it more than probable
that Sir Duncan was taken, and being informed by
several persons on the road that such was the case,
she was greatly troubled; but the report of his
apprehension was unfounded; for, though searched
for in several places, he was wonderfully preserved
from falling into the hands of his enemies—-a mercy
“which, on many accounts, she desired to remember,
with great thankfulness and praise.”
Before reaching Edinburgh, she was under the
necessity of staying all night on the road, and had
some difficulty in getting lodgings. Owing to the
fatigue of travelling, and to great heaviness and
pressure of mind, arising from her own personal
concerns, from the calamities of various kinds which
had befallen, or were about to befall, many who were
concerned in Argyll’s attempt, and from fears re-
specting her husband, of whose safety she was igno~
rant, sleep departed from her eyes; but, as the Lord
had commanded his lovingkindness in the day-time,
so in the night of trouble his song was with her, and
her prayer unto the God of her life, “who made this
among the sweetest nights that ever she had, or
durst have expected, so that sleep was neither missed
nor sought after.”
Next morning, coming early to Edinburgh, at the
opening of the gates, she received the afflicting news
of the barbarous treatment the “dear Earl” of Argyll
had met with in his being brought to the Castle;
and also heard very painful rumours regarding several
of her nearest relations, which again plunged her in
distress. When revolving in her mind where to go,
she was directed to the lodgings of “a dear sym-
pathizing friend, Mr. Robert Muir ;” with whom she
“found much favour and kind reception, and whose
company, on this afflicting Sabbath, was no small
blessing to her; and what was 1,” she adds, “that
the Lord should thus regard me, that in most of my
greatest troubles he hath been pleased to favour me
with his people’s society and company; but he is
gracious, and his compassions fail not.” Ever since
» Mr. Muir had stayed some weeks with her and Sir
Duncan, at their house at Lochgair, “ his instruc-



THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.





tions, singular sympathy, and affectionate help,” had
been of great advantage to them both; “and, there-
fore,” says she, “I hope and enjoin that it may not
be forgot by such of mine as may outlive this ac~
knowlcdgment; but above all,” she adds~for her
pious spirit led her to see the hand of God in every-
thing—“is to be acknowledged the wonderful com-
passion of the high and lofty One, in thus com-
passionating the exigencies of the indigent, and,
‘therefore, I will be glad and rejoice in thy mercy;
for thou hast considered my trouble; thou hast known
my soul in adversities,’ Psal. xxxi. 7.”
On the following day,she had certain information of
Sir Duncan’s “ safety, and marvellous preservation,”
which greatly relieved her burdened mind concerning
him; and she was then in better case to make inquiry
after her “ dear afflicted mother, who was harshly
treated,” and who was greatly afiiicted in prospect of
the cruel death of her husband, the Earl of Argyll.
Lady Campbell and the Earl of Argyll entertained
a high esteem and warm affection for each other.
By the Christian excellence of her character she had
gained upon his heart, and he always treated her
with kindness, as if she had been his »own child.
She, on the other hand, cherished towards him the
tenderness of a daughter. This, as well as sympathy
with her mother, made his death a sore stroke to
her. On the morning of the day on which he was
executed, she obtained an interview with him,
though not till he was brought to the council house.
When admitted to him, she was greatly comforted in
witnessing his composed edifying carriage, in cir~
cumstances so trying to human fortitude. After
endearing expressions, he said to her, “We must
not part like those not to meet again.” And she
testifies, that he went from thence to the place of
execution “ with the greatest assurance.” As a last
memorial of his affectionate remembrance of her, he
wrote to her aletter on the last day of his life, and
it was probably written in the council house, imme-
diately after this interview between them, at the
same time that he wrote a letter to her sister Lady
Sophia, and another to her mother. It is as follows :—
“June 30, 1685.
“ DEAR LADY HENRIETTA,——I pray God sanctify
and bless this lot to you. Our concerns are
strangely mixed; the Lord look on them; I know
all shall turn to good to them that fear God, and
hope in his mercy. So I know you do, and that you
may still do it more and more is my wish for you.
The Lord'comfort you !--I am, your loving father
and servant, ARGYLL.” 1


To the sorrow of Lady Campbell, occasioned by
the execution of Argyll, and the condition of her
mother, was added the sorrow occasioned by the
cruel manner in which many of the Campbell clan
were treated, the close imprisonment of her sister,
and the rapine and violence committed upon Sir
Duncan’s property, and that of his friends and
tenants. “ At this melancholy time,” she says,
“ account came of many of our folks, that were taken
and brought in like slaves, so as many prisons were
filled; others spoiled of all that they had, who had
been in jail all this time, and no way in arms; their
houses rifled, and young ones put to flight. Many
were harassed, and twenty-three gentlemen and
feuars were executed in one day, by that bloody
person1 who gave orders for it. My dear sister was
close prisoner, so as none of us had access to her;
our whole bounds and interest laid waste; many put
to flight; our house burned,2 and many put to great
hardships, as were unaccountable to relate; Sir
Duncan’s uncle [Alexander Campbell of] Strondour,
slain at our gate, and [Dugald Mactavish of ] Duar-
dary, executed at Bowdraught.3 Yet,” she adds, “ O
the graciousness of the Lord, who gave a back for
the burden, as is wondered at in looking back on it ;
as also on the bounty and goodness of the Lord, in
the safety of so many in the same circumstances,
who were designed to be a sacrifice, but were
miraculously preserved.”
While, as is stated in the above extract, the Castle
of Carnassary was burned by the enemy, and burned,
too, in violation of a solemn treaty, her other and chief
place of residence, Lochgair House, was, with the
like perfidy, plundered of all its furniture. Sir
Duncan’s friends defended that house against the
Marquis of Atholl’s men for some time ; but at length

1 Wodrow’s Ilistory, vol. iv., p. 304. Some person had taken a
copy of this letter at the time, and by this means it was preserved.
Mr. John Anderson, minister of Kirkmaiden, in a letter to Wodrow.
dated November 6, 1723, speaking of Wodrow’s History, says, “I
was much surprised when I read the Earl of Argyll’s letter to my
Lady Henrietta Campbell, seeing she had often told me she had lost
it long ago; but, it seems, some person had got a copy of it, from
whom you have had it.”-—Lctters to Wodrow, M55. in Advocates’
Library, vol. xxi., 4to, no. 133.
1 The Marquis of Atholl. The whole territory of the Campbells
was intrusted to him, when the Earl of Argyll fell a sacrifice; and,
among other acts of cruelty and lawless violence which be com-
mitted, he caused to be executed four or five gentlemen of the name
of Campbell, after they had received quarter and protection upon
their surrendering, and eighteen more at Inverary, without even the
formality of a trial. A small, but chaste monument of ehlorite,
erected on the spot, close to the church, commemorates their tragical
death, and, with great moderation of language, the cause in which
they felL—Vlfodroyws History, vol. iv., p. 310 3 and New Statistical
Account of Scotland, Invcrary, Argyllshire.
2 Via, the Castle of Carnassmy
3 This account is confirmed by “a petition of Sir Duncan Campbell,
for himself and his distressed friends, tenants, and vassals in Knap-
dale, Glassary, and Kelislait,” presented to the Estates of Parlia-
ment, after the Revolution. See Appendix, No. XIV.


LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBBECK.
197



they entered into a treaty with them, and surrendered
it upon condition that all the furniture, papers, &c.,
should be preserved, and that they should be allowed
to convey them safe to Lady Campbell. But this
treaty proved a frail security. Too perfidious to be
bound by their own engagements, Atholl’s men gar-
risoned the house and plundered it. The commander
of the party, after having taken away and destroyed
most of what was in the house, coveting the charter
chest, which was of a very curious construction,
broke it open, and turned out the papers on the
floor of the chamber where it stood, sending away
the chest for his own use. After this reckless
spoliation, a party of soldiers lay in the house about
eight or ten weeks. It is a singular fact, that, after
the Revolution, when Lady Campbell and Sir Duncan
returned from Holland, they found these papers lying
on that chamber floor, exactly in the same state as
when turned out of the charter chest, though they
had then lain exposed nearly four years, the house
being in ruins, and open to everybody. On coming
home, as the mansion at Lochgair was uninhabitable,
they dwelt for some time in another house ; in which
they had not been long, when Lady Campbell wished
to go and see their house at Lochgair, and desired
Sir Duncan to send some person to look for his
papers. He answered, that he was certain that; they
were all destroyed ; but going up herself to see the
condition of the house, she found them all lying in
i heap on the floor, and caused them to be put up
in several trunks and carried to Edinburgh, where,
on examination, it was found that not one paper of
value was amissing.1
After the execution of the Earl of Argyll, she
experienced, for some weeks, much mental anxiety,
from the great danger to which Sir Duncan was
exposed, of falling into the hands of his enemies.
By a proclamation, dated June 24, 1685, for appre-
hendin g the leading men who had been concerned in
Argyll’s attempt, a reward of 1800 merks was offered
to such as should deliver up Sir Duncan, dead or
alive, to the government; and it was declared treason
to harbour, reset, or correspond with him, or any of
the persons named in the proclamation.‘-:
But, at ‘

the risk of incurring the penalties of treason, some
. - I
had the generosity to shelter and harbour him; and
this Lady Campbell piously attributes to the mercy
of God, who had inclined their hearts to compassion.
In such a state of matters, she and Sir Duncan
to leave Scotland. While he should go to
_-A»
_, I 1
iésOivc:
Holland for shelter, she was to go to England, with ‘
1Wodrow’s Analecta. vrl. i., Y). 980-282: and his IIi~torv vrl. ‘ 7- -
' J p1 ' ° -’ ’ thing of kings and Lord of lords! who does not
iv., p. 310.
2 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 312.
the view, if possible, of obtaining, from his Majesty,
the favour of an act of indemnity, securing at once
his life and his estates, over both which a deed of
forfeiture was impending. His purpose of making
his escape, Sir Duncan was enabled speedily to carry
.into effect. He arrived safely in Holland, on the
14th of August. Meanwhile, having left her child
behind her, Lady Campbell and her mother, who
determined to accompany her to England, pro-
ceeded on their journey; in which they met with
several instances of providential preservation, which,
with thankfulness, she desired to remember, though
the relation of them is omitted in her diary. Many
were the conflicting feelings which agitated her
mind, in the trying circumstances in which she was
now placed; but, like the king of Israel, she always
had recourse to God’s lVord in the time of her
affliction, and that was the source whence her com-
fort was derived. “After this,” says she, “being
on the road to England, at Durham, on the 9th
of August [1685], being the Sabbath, and among
strangers, and at a distance from those wished-for
ordinances that had been enjoyed, when alone and
full of sadness and anxiety, O how sweet was that
word made, and powerfully intimated to me with
bowels of compassion—Rom. viii. 35, ‘ Neither tribu-
lation, nor distress, nor persecution, nor famine, nor
nakedness, nor peril, nor sword, shall separate us from
the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord l ’ ”
Reaching London in safety, she continued there
for several months; and during that period, which
she calls “an afllictive time to both nations, as may
be memorable to after ages,” she and her mother left
no means untried to obtain indemnity for Sir Duncan.
But from KingJames—the consummation. of tyranny,
bigotry, and cruelty, who had declared, that it would
never be well with Scotland until the south of the
Forth, where the Covenanters chiefly abounded, was
turned into a hunting field, and who had witnessed
the limbs of the Presbyterians crushed and mangled
in the boot, with exquisite and savage glee—she had
little to expect; and the cold reception she met with
from men in power, she devoutly contrasts with the
benignity and mercy with which the Supreme Ruler
of heaven and of earth ever welcomes the humble
suppliant, who approaches his throne through Jesus
Christ. “Among some sweet hours then,” she
writes, “though in a very troublesome attendance
at Il'indsor, where great ones of the world were
solicited and waited on with no little painfulness
and charge, O how did it give occasion to commend
the preferableness of his matchless service, who is
scare at petitioners because of their blemishes and


198
THE COVENANT.
lTlElblDIES OF


impel-tunity! there being no want of leisure at his
blessed throne; no destitute case is slighted by him ;
no wilderness condition in a solitary way doth make
petitions burdensome to him, but he satisfies the
longing soul, and iilleth the hungry with good things;
no distress, peril, or sword separates from his love,
nor does he break the bruised reed, or quench the
smoking flax; with him the weary and heavy-laden
illld acceptance; no difficulty being too great for him
who saveth to the uttermost all that come to God
through him.”
The sight she had of the court, when at London,
was far from exciting in her mind the feelings of
envy. Her aspirations were after nobler enjoy-
ments than the pageantry and luxury of a courtI
could bestow. She had chosen the better part, and
she thanked God, that, by his grace, he had enabled
her to prefer occupying a place among the wronged
and injured of his people, to possessing all the wealth
and honours of the world. She thus writes in her
diary, and the sentiments bespeak the ust views she
had of the objects of ambition, which become a
rational and an immortal being :——“ London, at Kz'vzy’s
Court—Soon after this [that is, after November
1685], having occasion to see the outward splendour
of the court, and bravery of such as sit at ease in
the world, and have all that their heart could wish,
and'are in the height of their enjoyment, all appeared
to me to be according to the Lord’s reckoning, and
was esteemed to be but as shadows and dreams,
that do evanish and bear little bulk when put in
competition with the least amount or degree of
enjoyment of God, in Jesus Christ, and did extort
this short meditation :--‘ O incomparably matchless
choice, that can never be suitably esteemed, or
enough valued, loved, or delighted in, it being found
that there is no true tranquillity, nor sure peace or
comfort but in God ; once mine and ever mine; there
being no change or alteration in his love.’ And at
this time it was made matter of praise, that ever he
had discovered to me the preferableness of choosing
affliction with the people of God, to enjoying the
pleasures of sin for a season. The blessing of them
that are ready to perish be for ever upon him, who
has discovered and taught the meaning of that
blessed promise, ‘And every one that hath forsaken
houses or brethren, or sisters, or father or mother,
or wife or children, or lands, for my name’s sake,
shall receive an hundred-fold, and shall inherit ever-
lasting life ’ (Matt. xix. 29); which is seen to be not
only full of compensation, but wonderfully beyond
any temporal enjoyment that ever was enjoyed else-
where. His fellowship, his sympathy, his tender
mercy, his matchless love; O incomparable felicity


and portion! O to give thanks unto the Lord, for
his mercy endurcth for ever.”
At the time that Lady Campbell was in London
the English Puritans were greatly oppressed. King
James was rigorously executing the severest laws in
force against them. Richard Baxter was in prison ;
John Howe was in exile. Puritan congregations
could only meet by night, in private houses, or in
waste places; while their ministers were forced to
preach to them in the garb of draymeu, colliers, or
sailors, and to steal into the houses where their
hearers were assembled, through windows and trap-
doors.l To this distressing condition of the English
nonconformists, various allusions are made in Lady
Campbell’s diary. She states that, while in London,
she heard the word preached only in a very private
manner, in consequence “of the spirit of violence and
persecution which at that time raged in London.”
On one occasion, she there enjoyed the ordinance
of the Lord’s Supper; but the privacy with which
it was observed, and the means taken to pre-
vent discovery, indicate the extreme rigour with
which the laws against nonconformity were enforced.
It was dispensed in the night-time, in a private
house, where a select company had assembled for
the holy service. The ministers who officiated were
two Scotsmen, Mr. Nicholas Blaikie, and Mr. George
Hamilton—the former minister of Itoberton at the
Restoration, from which charge he was ejected for
nonconformity, and the latter minister in the High
Church of Edinburgh after the Revolution. The
number of eommunicants was about forty. Speaking
of this sacramental occasion, after the Revolution,
Lady Campbell says, it “gave occasion for mournful
considerations; and though a great privilege to be
admitted to [this ordinance], yet now, when looking
back on the distress, and barbarous treatment and
hazard, that were in those days, which made meeting
together about uneontroverted commanded duties to
be a crime, this may heighten our notes of praise,
and estimation of our privileges, that those restraints
have so graciously been removed that now we have
such gospel days. This is the doing of the Lord,
and wondrous in our eyes.”
Very different was the manner in which the Roman
Catholics were dealt with by King James. While
the most eminent of the Puritan divines were im-
prisoned, or in exile, friars and monks crowded the
streets of London. While the Puritans were inter-
dicted the freedom of the p~ess, the presses of Ox-
ford were throwing oif, under a royal license, bre-
viaries and mass books in thousands. While the
Puritans could only meet to worship God, in the

1 Macaulay’s History of England, vol. ii., pp. 9.04, ‘.214.



LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBRECK.
199


manner they judged most agreeable to his will, inl
private houses, by stealth, “the host was publicly
exposed in London, under the protection of the
pikes and muskets of the foot guards ;” and the
Popish worship was conducted in their chapels, in
the most open and ostentatious manner.l During
her stay in the English capital, much of this actually
fell under the observation of Lady Campbell; to
whom, as to the great body of the Protestant com-
munity, it was a just cause of grief, as well as of
painful apprehension, though it served to establish
her faith in the truth of the Protestant doctrines.
“ One time there” [in London 1685], says she, “going
by a Popish chapel, with a very heavy heart, to see
such crowdings so avowedly to this idolatrous wor-
ship, two or three of us went to the door to see the
manner of their worship, who thus were deluded,
being told we might, without going in, see them
without being seen, which proved otherwise; for,
being noticed as strangers to their foppery, after
standing a while to observe and wonder at this
abomination, to see it set up in a Protestant country,
we had nearly been knocked down unawares, but
narrowly escaped—from which the hazard was seen
of venturing upon curiosity—yet blessed be God for
this much of instruction, in seeing such a sight as
helped to confirm us in the truth of the one Mediator
between God and man.”
At London, her intercessions in behalf of her hus-
band, Sir Duncan, met with so little success, that,
at the very time of her being there, the government
were proceeding against him, in his absence, to the
greatest possible extremity. On the 11th of Sep-
tember 1685, when she had been in London a few
weeks, the Scottish privy council ordered the king’s
advocate to proceed against him, and others, before
the justiciary court, for joining with Argyll; and,
previously, to examine witnesses in accordance with
the king’s letter.2 On the 12th of October, he and
thirty-two Argyllshire heritors were “ cited on sixty
days, for treason ;” and, on the lath of December,
being called at the justiciary court to be forfeited on
probation, their case was delayed to the 5th of January
1686.3 On the 5th of January that year, when she
had been in London nearly five months, he and the
Argyllshire heritors, already referred to, were tried on
an indictment of rebellion and treason, for their con-
cern in Argyll’s insurrection; and, their case having
been remitted to a jury, who brought in a verdict of
guilty, they were forfeited in life and fortune.‘


At length, finding that all her pains at court in
behalf of Sir Duncan were to very little purpose, she
considered it needless to wait in London any longer.
But, when about to leave the English capital in
March 1686, she was in some difficulty whether to
embark for Holland, or to return to Scotland. Her
affection to, and sympathy‘ with her distressed and
endeared husband, inclined her to join him in Hol-
land; but against such an intention her mother and
others endeavoured to dissuade her, judging it would
be more conducive to his interest for her to return
to Scotland. But at last she resolved to go to
Holland, convinced that this was her duty, though
she confesses that it was afflicting to her to think
of leaving in a strange land, and of not accompany-
ing home, her dear mother, who had been at such
pains and toil for her; and that “deference and
duty to one of the best of parents, made her not
complying with her mother’s demand very affecting.”
She accordingly parted with her mother in March
or April 1686, to go to some seaport town in Eng-
land, which she does not name, whence she was to
embark for Holland. She was entirely alone, not
having even a servant with her, in consequence of
the severity of the times. In this place she was
detained by contrary winds twelve days, during
which time she was lodged in a boarding establish-
ment, where she knew no individual, “save the
Christian sweet woman to whose house she had been
recommended.” But, though removed from friends
and acquaintances, she here found favour among
strangers, several providential instances of which
she refers to, without being further particular. In-
tercsted in her case from the information, which,
without her knowledge, he had received concerning
her, the master of the vessel, unasked, took his wife
along with him to accompany her during the voyage.
Both of them were extremely kind to her; and the
weather being highly favourable, the voyage was the
most agreeable that could have been desired.
Landing in Holland at the Brill, she was cordially
welcomed by Sir Duncan, who had come to meet
her. They went together to Amsterdam, where
they had the States’ protection, which secured him
from the danger to which he would have been else-
where exposed, in consequence of his forfeiture; and
she observes, that “though the place was lonely,
and our circumstances not without discouragement,
yet We were not wholly debarred from gospel means,
which was several times refreshing, as the efiect of
gracious condescensionundeserved, which m any times
supported us.” She adds, “In this place, the Lord

1 Macaulay’s History of England, vol. ii., p. 204.
2 Wodrow’s History, v01. iv., p. 320.
3 Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i., p. 370
4 Lbid, vol. i., p. 389. Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 355. Foun-
tainhall says, that the witnesses against them were the Laird of
Ellangreg, 810., though under process of treason themselves-



200 THE LADIES or THE COVENANT.



%
stirred up friends in a strange land, and particularlyl they were tossed on the ocean by a great storm,
some who are yet alive of our nation, who were i which drove them back on the coast of Holland; but,
most stedable and friendly, the sense of which when the seamen were about to cut the mast, the
desired to be borne with the greatest gratitude; tempest was allayed. The Sabbath after, they lay
and whose conversation, usefulness, painfulness, at anchor at the Bass, where a considerable number
and ministry since, has many times been strangely of the Presbyterians were then in confinement; and
countenanced to some, as doth leave a lasting im- ‘ she had “ a sweet day of the sunshine of the gospel,”
pression to the charging such of mine as shall, It Mr. William Moncrieff having preached from these
hope, survive me, to have the endearing sense of it, words in Isaiah XXXll. 2, “A man shall be an hiding-
and, to their power, to requite with all suitable just place from the ‘wind, and a covert from the tem-
veneration and esteem, leaving it as my desire not] pest; as rivers of water in a dry place, and as the
l
to be urnnindful of it, since to such, I shall to my
dying day, wish that the Lord may requite them‘
with his special favour, and that grace and peace}
may be multiplied to them." ?
The persecution continuing so severe in Scotland,
as to present little hope of Sir Duncan being soon :
able to reside, with safety, in his native country, '
Lady Campbell returned to Scotland in June 1686, l
with the design of bringing over to Holland their,
only child, and of settling their little affairs, in order
to their more fixed abode in that land of freedom.
Leaving Sir Duncan for a time, “with a very sore
heart,” she went to Rotterdam for a Scottish vessel,
which was thence to embark for Scotland. The
winds being contrary, she was detained in that
city for some time, and on the Sabbath she heard
sermon in the Scotch church there, by the minister
of the church, Mr. Robert Fleming, whom she terms
“that great and shining light in his day.” So highly
did she estimate the public institutions of religion,
that her detention in Rotterdam over the Sabbath
was rather pleasing to her than otherwise, as it
afforded her an opportunity of worshipping God in
his sanctuary, a privilege which she the more highly
prized, from the frequency with which she was de-
prived of it in her native land. The text from which
she heard Mr. Fleming preach was John Xi. 40:
“ Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe,
thou shouldest see the glory of God P”
On the following Sabbath, she was on board the
vessel which lay at anchor in the Brill, and heard
two sermons preached by Mr. William Moncricff,
minister of Largo after the Revolution‘ (a son of
the excellent Mr. Alexander Moncriefi’, minister of
Scoonie, who had been ejected for nonconform-
ity after the Restoration), who was coming over
to Scotland in the same ship, from these words in
Psal. xlv. 2: “Thou art fairer than the sons of men;
grace is poured into thy lips 5” by which she v2
much comforted and confirmed. Next Sabbath,





shadow of a great rock in a weary land.”
On landing at Leith, the severity of the persecu-
tion suggested it to her as prudent to disguise her-
self, to escape discovery; and she came in disguise
t to the house of her dear friend Mr. Alexander Mon-
criefl’, the ejected minister of Scoonie, who was now
residing, with his family, in Edinburgh. “Here,”
says she, “ I had much kind welcome and sympathy,
from some who are now in glory, and others of them
yet alive, whose sympathy and undeserved concern
is desired to be borne in mind, with much gratitude.”
But any uncertain abode she had was with her dear
mother, at Stirling; of whose tender care and affec-
tion for all her children, and for her in particular,
she speaks, as we have seen before, in the highest
terms.l She continued in Scotland eight weeks,
during which time she looked after the worldly
affairs of Sir Duncan, which had then a very ruined
like and discouraging aspect.
On her way to Holland with her only child, she
encountered a great storm at sea, and was even in
“ hazard of being swallowed up among the waves ;”
under which, though she was “in anguish of spirit
through excessive fear,” she got her “burdens
devolved on the blessed Rock of ages.” On her
arrival, she was “ welcomed with much affection and
kindness ” by Sir Duncan; and they took up their
residence in Rotterdam. In this city, our expatriated
countrymen enjoyed singular religious advantages.
Mr. Thomas Halyburton, professor of divinity at
St. Andrews,‘-’ who, in May 1685, when a boy, went.
with his mother to Rotterdam, whither she was
obliged to retire by reason of the hot persecution,
thus writes in his Memoirs: “ On the Lord’s Day,
we had three sermons and two lectures in the Scots
Church ; on Thursday, a sermon there likewise. On
Tuesday, one of the suffering ministers by turns

1 For some notices of Mr. William Monc'riefi', see Dr. Fraser’s Life
0' l-Zbenezer I-Irskine, p. 205) ; and his Life of Ralph Erskine, p. 146.
preached. There was a meeting for prayer on
Wednesday. On Monday and Friday nights, Mr.
1See p.199
2 Lady Campbell was personally acquainted with Hal yburton; and
to her his Memoirs, published afte" his death, were demanded by his
l widow.

LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBRECK.
201


James Kirkton commonly lectured in his family.
On Saturday, he catechised the children of the Scots
sufferers who came to him.”1 Lady Campbell
speaks of “the powerful and great means of which
she had a constant succession, under dear Mr.
Fleming’s ministry;” and in her diary, there are
many entries containing notes of the sermons she
heard preached, both on ordinary Sabbaths and on
sacramental solemnities, in the Scottish Church
at Rotterdam,‘ by Mr. Fleming, and other exiled
Scottish ministers. In addition to other religious
services in which they engaged, it was the custom
of the English and Scottish ministers who had taken
shelter‘in Holland from the persecution, to meet
together once in the week, or more frequently for
solemn prayer, on account of the distressing state
of affairs in their native land. Lady Campbell was
in the habit of attending these meetings; and she
was wont to tell a curious anecdote of John Howe,
the celebrated English nonconformist divine,2
strongly illustrative of the uncommon fervour of
his devotion. The anecdote, which We give in the
Words of Wodrow, is as follows:—-“ Mr. John
- Anderson tells me [1726] he had this account from
Lady Henrietta Campbell, of the great Mr. Howe.
He was a man that was the most mighty wrestler in
prayer she ever knew, and gave one instance when
in Holland, where he was about 1686. The banished
and refugee ministers met weekly, or oftener, for
prayer, where Lady Henrietta used to be present.
After some had prayed, Mr. Howe’s turn came.
He continued long, and with such fervour, that the
sweat streamed down. Mrs. Howe, his wife, knowing
his manner, and that it would not divert him in time
of it, stepped to him gently, took off his wig, and
with her napkin dried the sweat, and put on his
wig again! This she was obliged to do twice, if
not thrice, and Mr. Howe seemed not to know what
was done to him.”3 This exactly corresponds with
the description Dr. Calamy gives of Howe’s gift of
prayer. “ He had great copiousness and fluency in
prayer,” says that writer; “and the hearing him
discharge that duty upon particular sudden emer-
gencies, would have been apt to have made the
greatest admirer of stinted forms ashamed of the
common cavils and objections against that which is
usually called extemporary prayer.” 4
In the middle of July 1688, Lady Campbell was
necessarily called to the Hague, there to attend the

1 Halybnrton’s Memoirs, part ii., chap. i.
2 Howe had gone abroad in 1685, and, after travelling in various
parts, settled at Utrecht in 1686.
3 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iii., p. 303.
4 Calamy’s Life of Howe, prefixed to the imperial octave edition
of his Works, p. L

court several days ; having, probably, been invited
by William, Prince of Orange, and Princess Mary,
to come along with Sir Duncan, who shared in the
counsels of William, in reference to the contemplated
invasion of Britain; the tyranny of King James
having now become intolerable to the great majority
of his subjects, of all parties, with the exception of
the Papists. She went, though “ not without great
reluctancy, and fear of the consequences.” But
“ the sight of the splendour of that court,” excited
in her mind more agreeable feelings than the sight
of the splendour of the court of King James; “it
being a satisfaction,” she remarks, “to see great
ones so promising, and even blessing-like to the
church and people of God, and that, hitherto, had
been such a support to many in distress ;” and the
enterprise, of the result of which, from the failure
of Argyll’s attempt, she was not without apprehen-
sions, was destined to have a more successful issue,
being the means appointed by providence of deliver-
ing these lands from the grinding yoke of tyranny
and persecution.
Preparations were for some time vigorously made
for this undertaking ; and when William’s intentions
became known, they met with the cordial approba~
tion of the great body of the population in Holland.
The English and Scottish refugees embarked in the
cause with ardent enthusiasm; and the Dutch poured
forth their earnest and united prayers to Almighty
God for its success. Lady Campbell thus describes
the state of public feeling in Holland :-—“About this
time [September 16, 1688], the great design came
to be above board, of forces coming to Britain, with
the then Prince of Orange, wherein the Lord did
marvellously appear, in animating of hearts to a joint _
concurrence with this project, so that more than
ordinary concern might have been read in the gener-
ality of persons, who were well-wishers to the Pro-
testant interest; and after preparation made, and
joint supplication appointed to be through all the
churches in the Seven Provinces, though there wanted
not great difficulties to grapple with, because of
apparent danger and hazards; yet when accorded to,
and time appointed for this undertaking, there was
a wonderful resoluteness and forwardness that pos-
sessed, in general, all who were honoured with this
undertaking, as if the Lord had endued them with
more than ordinary resoluteness and courage, which
must be ascribed to his doing only, who moved this
design and carried it on for our deliverance; for
which, 0 to be helped for ever to bless his name!”
Sir Duncan was among-those who were appointed
first to embark; and they attended, in their ships,
nearly three weeks before the rest were ready. Pre-


2 c
202 THE LADIES on
THE COVENANT.


vious 'to his embarkation, Lady Campbell took leave
of him with a heavy heart; being now left alone in
a strange country, and not knowing but the event
might be terrible. “Yet,” says she, “there being
so much at stake, each appeared to add his mite
with more eheerfulness, resolution, and submission,
than another, more than, without immediate support,
could have been attained. That was made a time
of more than ordinary concern, and even of liberty
and enlargedness often, which was very supporting,
and did much sweeten what, otherwise, would with
great difiieulty have been got over.”
About a fortnight after the embarkation of their
friends, she, and several others, having been told that
some of the ships lying at anchor were lost—a report
to which they gave the more credit from the stormy
and unfavourable state of the weather—resolved to
visit their friends, though at a distance of two days’
journey, in order to ascertain whether or not the
report was true; that, in case of finding them safe,
they might supply them with fresh provisions.
Having travelled to the neighbourhood of the place
where the ships were anchored, they went out to
them in a small boat; in doing which their lives were
exposed to imminent peril, the boat having been cast
in among the fleet in a mighty storm. Missing Sir
Duncan, Lady Campbell was greatly discomposed;
but, on learning that no harm had befallen him, her
mind was calmed, and she, with her fellow-visitors,
were safely brought to land, notwithstanding the
severity of the storm. She returned to her dwelling,
at Rotterdam, on the Friday; and, for some days
after, experienced much weariness, and great indis-
position, in consequence of the fatigue and anxiety
to which she had been subjected.
At length William’s fleet, which consisted of more
than six hundred vessels, being prepared for sailing,
he took farewell of the States of Holland, at a solemn
sitting they had on the 16th of October, on which
day, also, public prayers were offered up for him in
all the churches of the Hague; and, accompanied
by the deputies of the principal towns to his yacht,
he arrived in the evening at Helvoetsluys, and went
on board “the Brill”—the name of the vessel in
which he sailed. On the 19th of October, he put
to sea with his armament, and “traversed, before a
strong breeze, about half the distance between the
Dutch and English coasts. Then the wind changed,
blew hard from the west, and swelled into a violent
tempest. The ships scattered; and, in great distress,
regained the shore of Holland as they best might.
The Brill reached Helvoetsluys on the 21st of Octo-
ber.”l Lady Campbell describes the magnificent




.___V—____\
1 lllacaulay’s History of England, vol. ii., pp. 476, 490.
appearance of the fleet, when about to sail; the storm
by which it was compelled to return; and the merci-
ful providence observable even in this apparent
disaster. “About this time, all the fleet were in
readiness to sail, and jointly met to attend King
William in this great expedition to Britain; multi-
tudes being gathered together, on steeples, to see
this splendid sight, which, in ranlt and file, went out
this evening, as was esteemed a beautiful sight for
grandeur, order, and comely fortitude, in this so
great a design, that though there were some whose
hearts were trembling within them, yet the most
were rejoicing, as if the arm of man could have
accomplished this marvellous achievement, which, ere
the next morning, was seen to be ascribed to a
higher hand; this night there being raised so for-
midable a storm as did wholly scatter all this fleet,
so that, genenlly, there were few this night who
had any concern, but were put to their peremptors
and sad conclusions, fearing them to be wholly lost
(the dear princess, and several besides, sitting up
the most of this night), and many were running to the
coasts, to observe what shipwreck could be discerned.
It was a most terrible night, both by sea and land.
But O, the wonderful eondescension of the Lord,
who knew better than we did how to deliver, and
how to forward his own work, that made this the
means of carrying it on; for, bad they gone forward
to their intended landing, they had met with a great
army, intended to have routed them. But, besides,
several of these vessels having fallen short of pro-
visions, by long attendance, and, also, they not
having landing boats, all this made it soon after a
marvellous providence, that they were made by
this storm to return without the loss of one man,
and with the loss of only one [vessel],l and some
horses that were thrown overboard. The ship that
King lVilliam was in, was among the first that in
safety returned, to the joy and rejoicing of all
Holland, and particularly those of us who had
our nearest and dearest relations embarked with
him, all returning in safety to Helvoetsluys, where
their abode was more than twelve days, till they
were wholly recruited again.” She adds, “ My dear
I Macaulay says that no life was lost, and that “ one vessel only
had been cast away.”—llistory of England, vol. ii., p. 477. Wodrow
has the following entry in his Analecta :—“ Mr. John Anderson tells
me that he had this from Lady Henrietta Campbell, who was in
Holland at the time, that there were very great measures of a spirit
of prayer in Holland, at the time of the Prince of Orange’s coming
off : that it was a very remarkable mercy to his design that he was
put back the first time, for the French squadron was at sea, and
would certainly have attacked him' and, through some mistake,
their boats, and several other things necessary for landing, were left
behind them, without which they could have done little, though they
had gone forw ard.”—Vol. i., pp. 280-282.


LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBRECK.
203


was among the first that arrived, and gave account
of their safety; the seeing of whom so unexpectedly
made me almost at the fainting with the surprise;
which was a pleasant disappointment, and ground
of thankfulness, that the Lord had been so gracious
in disappointing the hopes of enemies and fears of
friends.”
In the same evening on which Sir Duncan arrived,
she went with him and some friends by water to
Helvoetsluys, where, from the crowded state of the
place, they, like many others, remained together in
the harbour, in the yacht, for three or four days,
till they found accommodation in a Dutch mini-
ster’s house, in a country village near by, providing
for themselves their own provisions. This village
contained at this time many of the Scots and
English, not less, it was computed, than several
hundreds.
When William and his fleet were ready to put to
sea a second time, she and others were allowed to
attend their friends to their ships, “which,” says
she, “was a beautiful sight to see such a number
gathered together for the Protestant interest, in a
time when so great an invasion was made on it, and
our properties.” On the night on which the fleet
set sail, which was on the evening of November
1, she was in a state of no inconsiderable agitation
and anxiety of mind, “ not only from the hazards
that appeared to those in whom she was particularly
interested, but even from the hazard so‘ public and
great a design might be exposed unto, if the Lord
did not signally appear for them.” It seems to
have been about this time that she dreamed the
dream recorded by Wodrow, and which we shall
here give in his own words: “ Mr. John Anderson
of Kirkmaiden,” says he, “tells me that he hath this
from Lady Henrietta Campbell, that she went with
her husband to the shore side, when he embarked
with the Prince; and, after she came back, she
slept but little that night: that in the morning
after, she had fell to a slumber, and had this remark-
able dream, which she communicated to the Countess
of Sutherland and the Princess of Orange, who were
much taken with it. She thought she was at the
fleet, and they came safe to the coast of England,
and at the place where they landed, there was a
great high brazen wall before them. She thought
they resolved to land, and when they were en-
deavouring to get over it, it fell all down before
them in Bibles. She could not but reflect after~
wards, upon the success of the expedition, upon this,
as some emblem of that clear knowledge, and the
settlement of the gospel, and the use making of the
Scripture in opposition to Popery that followed the

happy Revolution. This person is a lady of 'great
piety and good sense, and no visionary.” ‘
The day after the fleet put to sea, Lady Campbell,
and such others as had been taking farewell of their
friends, journeyed to their respective homes; some
of them on foot, and some of them in waggons,
with more hope as to the issue, than, since the last
disaster, they had been able to entertain.
N 0t long after, the Prince of Orange’s undertaking
being crowned with complete success, and James
being driven from his throne, she embarked in‘ a
vessel bound for England on her way to Scotland,
where she and Sir Duncan had now the prospect of
being able to live in peace, and of having restored
to them their forfeited estates. But, pleasing as
was this prospect, it was not without a pang that
she left the land of her exile, to which, as the sanc-
tuary that had sheltered her from persecution, her
heart had contracted a grateful attachment; and it
was particularly painful to her feelings to part with
Mr. Fleming, from whose ministry and social inter-
course she had often derived much comfort and
edification; so that, to use her own words, “this
parting was as the child being bereaved of the
breast.”
On her arrival at London, she found the cause of
William universally popular, and matters very dif-
ferent from what they were in 1685 and 1686, when,
during her abode in the capital, she could hear
sermon only by stealth, and observe the Lord’s
Supper only during the darkness of the night, in a
private house. Now, dissenters could assemble to
conduct religious worship in the most public manner,
without any to make them afraid. “There were
acclamation and rejoicing,” she says, “even in the
streets, for this great deliverance. And O how
refreshing was it to find, that the Lord had opened
a door so marvellously to gospel privileges, which,
at leaving the place [London], there was so little
probability of. But what marvellous things are
with him who is wonderful in counsel, and excel-
lent in working! And as this work was memorable
and great, so it did greatly endear the instrument
by whom it was carried on.”
She speaks, in a similar manner, of the state of

1 Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. i., pp. 280-282. Wodrow says, in
another part of the same work, “ Mr John Anderson [May 1725]
tells me several accounts of Lady Henrietta Campbell, which, I
believe, are set down in some of the former volumes: That of her
dream about the Prince of Orange being driven back, and the wall
falling down in Bibles; that about a fellow coming in to her asking
charity with a drawn dagger; that about the Lord’s supplying her
straits, after a sweet Scripture was borne in upon her by means of
the Princess of Orange.”—Ibid., vol. iii., p. 196. The two last
anecdotes here referred to are not recorded in the preceding volumes
of the Analecta, as Wodrow supposes, and are probably now lost.


204* THE LADIES 01*‘
THE COVENANT.




Scotland on her reachingEdinburgh. “ Our arrival
at Edinburgh had its own mixture of great mercy,
and of that crowning mercy of being welcomed with
access to the purity of gospel ordinances; being
the sweeter, on our calling to mind the restraint and
difliculty that formerly had been seen there in later
years, when made the seat of bloodshed and oppres-
sion.”'
On the triumph of the cause of civil and religious
freedom, in which Lady Campbell and Sir Duncan
had suffered so much, they were fairly entitled to
some compensation, and William, when Prince of
Orange, having promised to remember them, she
reminded Lord Melville, secretary of state for Scot-
land, of their claims.2 Nor was the government
of 'William backward to do them justice, by at least
restoring to them their own. Sir Duncan’s name
appears, among hundreds of other names, in the Act
passed in the Scottish Parliament, July 1090, re-
scinding the forfeitures and fines incurred by the
Covenanters on account of their principles, since
the year 1665, and restoring such of them as were
then alive, or their heirs and successors, to their
goods, fame, and worldly honours, and warranting
them to use all lawful means for the recovery of the
same. And, on the 8th of July, that same year, the
Parliament, on hearing read Sir Duncan’s petition
formerly referred to, in relation to the cruelties,
robberies, and oppressions committed on himself
and his tenants, after the suppression of Argyll’s
insurrection, grant warrant for citing the persons
named in the petition as the perpetrators, and the
representatives of such of them as were dead, to
cempcar before them within fifteen days after the
charge, to answer to the complaint, provided the
Parliament should be sitting, and otherwise to com-
pear before the commission, appointed by an Act of
this Parliament, entitled, “Act for rescinding fines
and forfeitures ;” the hearing of the parties, and the
taking probation upon the points of the complaint,
being remitted to the said commission, who were to
report to the next session of that, or a subsequent
Parliament.3 In the Parliament of June 1693, the
case relating to the repairing the damages of the
baronct, and all other similar sufferers, is remitted
to the lords of the privy council, in order to their
sending a recommendation in reference to that
matter to his Majesty.‘
After the Revolution, Sir Duncan, intending to
reside, with his family, at Lochgair, proposed, in a '

letter to the synod of Argyll, dated 4th August 1690,
that a church should be planted there; promising
to dedicate the tithes he had about that place as a
part of the stipend of the minister to be settled, and
offering to build a suitable church at his own expense.
The proposal was favourably received, but, for reasons
unknown to us, it was never carried into effect.1
Sir Duncan was a OOlllllllSSlOllEl‘ for the shire of
Argyll, in the Scottish Parliament, for several years
after the Revolution. He died in November 17 00,
as we learn from the Records of the Scottish Parlia-
ment; for, on the Mth of that month, a petition from
the freeholders of Argyllshire was read before the
Parliament, craving warrant to elect a commissioner
in his room, in respect of his apparently hopeless
indisposition, his own demission being read at the
same time; and, in the proceedings of the 9th of the
following month, he is mentioned as “deceased.”
It is a singular fact, that, in his last days, Sir Duncan
embraced the Popish religion. In the petition of
the freeholders of Argyllshire, another reason, besides
his sickness, why they crave warrant to elect a com-
missioner to the Parliament, in his place, is, “that
several members of Parliament had declared that he
owned himself to be a Papist.” This was a source
of deep affliction to Lady Campbell ; for “ his eternal
interest was no less coveted by her than her own, a
duty she ever thought due to so near and dear a
relation as a husband.” But, from a passage in her
diary, there seems some reason to believe that, on
his deathbed, his sentiments underwent an important
change, and that he built his hopes of heaven upon
a more substantial foundation than the delusions of
Popery. After adverting to her solicitude about
the welfare of his soul, and the enlargement she
obtained in pleading at the throne of grace in his
behalf, she adds, “who, I desire to hope, obtained
mercy, as a thought of great consequence to some all
the days of their life; that in a manner are deputed,
while in the world, to go to the grave mourning for
what was wrong in him, and yet not to mourn as
those that have no hope.”
Sir Duncan was succeeded by his son James, who
was thrice married, and had, by his three wives,
fifteen children. Sir James died, at an advanced
age, in the year 1756.2
Lady Campbell survived the Revolution more than
thirty years. IVhether, during that period, she con-
tinued to keep a register of her spiritual exercise,
and of the events of her life, is uncertain. If she did
so, no such document is now preserved ; and little
of her subsequent history is known. It is, however,


1 Here the Diary of Lady Campbell closes.
2 See her letter to that nobleman, dated January 6, 1669, among
The Leven and Melville Papers, p. 44.
3 Acts of the Parliament of Scotland.
1 New Statistical Account of Scotland, Glassary, Argyllshirc, p. 694.
4 Ibid.
2 Donglas’s Baronage of Scotland, p. (32.




LADY CAMPBELL OF AUCHINBRECK.
205


certain that she maintained a high reputation to the
last for Christian excellence and piety. The follow-
ing anecdote, recorded by Wodrow, places the strict
integrity of her character in a very interesting and
instructive light :—-“In the year 1703, this same Lady
Henrietta Campbell was, with her bro ther, the Earl of
Balcarres, at his house. He, with those of his kidney,
were then very active in addressing the Queen and
Parliament for a toleration, and they used all means
to procurera multitude of hands to their address;
and this was one: They made many believe that it
was quite another thing that they were subscribing
than it was, and read it otherwise than it was really
written; and by this means got many well-meaning
people to subscribe it. The Earl caused his manager
of the address bring it to L[ady] H[enrietta], and
told her such and such persons had subscribed, and
pressed her much to do it; and she said she would
subscribe nothing till she heard it. He read it, and
it was pretty smooth. She desired it to readher-
self, not from a ealousy, but really to ponder it. This
would by no means be granted, which made her sus-
pect. She found means to get a sight of the address,
and she found it perfectly another thing than was
read to her. She reproached her brother with this
base dealing with poor people. He begged she
would not discover it, but she told him, unless he
would stop it and tear it, she would; and, upon his
refusal, she acquainted the minister of the place
with it, who, upon the Sabbath, did very fully lay
out the cheat to the people; who next came in and
complained that they were abused, and threatened
to send a counter-address, with an account of their
treatment, to the Parliament. This, with the thing’s
spreading, marred that address effectually ; and bred
a great breach between the lady and her brother,
for two or three years.” 1
Lady Campbell died about 1721. Mr. John
Anderson, minister of Kirkmaiden, in a letter to
Wodrow, dated October Qelth that year, formerly
quoted} alludes to her as being then dead; and her
death, it is probable, took place not long before, for
Wodrow, when the second volume of his History of
the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland was going
through the press, which was in the same year,
speaks of her, in referring to the letter which the
Earl of Argyll wrote to her on the day of his
execution, as then alive.3
The particulars relating to her last sickness not
being preserved, we have not the satisfaction of
receiving, from her dying lips, a testimony to the

1 Wodrow’s Analeeta, vol. i, pp. 280-282.
2 See p. 190.
3 Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 304.

A and wanderings she never forgot.
truth and importance of religion; but, what is of
greater practical value, we have the memorials of
the Christian virtues and graces which she exem-
plified. The preceding sketch has been almost
confined to the first thirty or thirty-two years of
her life, there being few materials for illustrating
her subsequent history. But what has passed under
our notice during that period exhibits, besides some
variety of incident, many features of Christian ex-
cellence worthy of imitation. The depth and fervour
of her early piety cannot fail to have struck the
reader; and the maturity which the Christian graces
attained in her more advanced years, fulfilled the
promising appearances of her childhood and youth.
Casting in her lot, in the morning of her days, with
the persecuted Covenanters, she suffered not a little
in the cause of the civil and religious freedom of her
country; but,under all her sufferings on that account,
which were endured in the prime of life, between
the twentieth and the thirtieth year of her age,
when she might naturally have expected the largest
share of her earthly felicity, she displayed a patient
continuance in well-doing, a faith in God’s love, and
a dependence on his providence, which bore testi-
mony to the sincerity and the strength of her piety.
Inspired with supreme love to God, she devoted
much of her time to secret prayer, and the study of
the Scriptures. On the Sabbath, for which she had
a high veneration, she accounted it an invaluable
privilege to listen to the lessons of piety delivered
by the ministers of the Word; and when at any
time deprived of this privilege, she spent the hours
of that sacred day in the secret exercises of religion,
in reading the Scriptures, in spiritual meditation,
and in prayer. The observance of the sacrament
of the Lord’s Supper was to her the most delightful
service in which she could engage. areful in ob-
serving Divine providence, she contemplated every-
thing in her lot~—all her trials, as well as all her
mercies—as proceeding from God ; and, having chosen
him as her portion, she was satisfied with the wisdom
of her choice, all the things of the world, when com-
pared with him, sinking, in her estimation, into utter
insignificance. In every relation of life, whether as
a daughter, a sister, a wife, or a mother, she acted
an exemplary part. Warm and generous in her
affections, she was a sincere and an attached friend.
Amiahle in her dispositions, and engaging in her
manners, she almost universally met with kind at-
tentions among strangers, as well as among friends;
and, singularly grateful in her temper of mind,‘ the
acts of kindness shown to her under her sufferings
They were pre-
served in her memory as if engraven upon adamant;



206
TEHSLADLES(HPTHE COVENANT.



and we find her leaving it, as a dying injunction,
upon those nearest and dearest to her whom she
left behind, to remember and reward such proofs of
sympathy and friendship; nor is it unin'iportant to
observe, how her gratitude to man was mingled with
her gratitude to God; for, while she refers with de-
light to the acts of kindness shown to her by man,
in the time of her aflliction, she never fails to trace
I
every such act of kindness to God, who, as she be-
lieved, disposed the hearts of men to pity and to
befriend her. Such are some of the leading features
of the character of this lady, on whom God had con
ferred such abundant grace, and who is so well entitled
to a place among those pious women of Scotland,
who, in the face of persecution, kept the command-
ment of God, and the testimony of Jesus Christ.


GRISELL HUME, LADY BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD.1
GRISELL HUME was born at Redbraes Gastle,‘~’ in
Berwickshire, December 25, 1665. Her father,
Sir Patrick Hume (after the Revolution, first Earl


1In drawing up this sketch, we are chiefly indebted to Memoirs
of Lady Baillie, written by her eldest daughter, Grisell, Lady Mur-
ray, of Stanhope. These, with Memoirs of the Honourable George
Baillie, by the same lady, were printed in 1822, under the editorship
of Thomas Thomson, Esq. from the Original M 8., which has been care-
fully preserved in the family of J erviswood. These memorials consist
partly of information which she had received from her mother, who
had a principal share in all that is related, and partly of what she
had observed with her own eye. The tenderness of filial piety, the
ingenuous truthfulness, the fine feeling, and agreeable good humour
with which they are written; and the variety of interesting traits
of Scottish simplicity and homeliness of character, which they contain,
render the narrative extremely engaging. A celebrated authoress,
Joanna Baillie, the modern dramatist of “The Passions.” from the
enthusiastic admiration of Lady Baillie with which these Memoirs
inspired her. has adopted her as a heroine of the highest order in
the scale of female excellence, in her “ Metrical Legends of Exalted
Characters.” Lady Murray, the authoress of these Memoirs, was
born in 1693. In the month of August 1710, at the age of seven-
teen, she was married at Edinburgh to llr. Alexander Murray, the
son and heir of Sir David Murray of Stanhope, baronet, by Lady
Anne Bruce, daughter of Alexander, Earl of Kincardine. But
this marriage proved unfortunate. “ Mr. Murray’s appearance and
manners in common society,” says Mr. Thomson, “are said to
have been prepossessing and specious; but it was soon discovered
that, under a pleasing exterior, there lurked a dark, moody, and
ferocious temper, or rather, perhaps, what ought to be described as
a certain degree of constitutional insanity, which discoloured all his
views of the conduct and character of those about him, and made
him the helpless victim of the most groundless suspicions, and the
most agonizing and uncontrollable passions.” The parents of the
young lady were, at length, driven to the painful necessity of insti-
tuting a “process of separation,” on the ground that his wife was
not in safety to lire with him. To'this proceeding, Mr. Murray ‘
made the most obstinate resistance, and instituted a “counter pro-
cess of adherence,” but a formal “decree of separation ” was at
length pronounced, by the commissary court of Edinburgh, on the
5th of March 1714. Lady Murray afterwards continued to live in
her father’s family. Being the eldest daughter, and her only brother
having died in early infancy, she succeeded to her father’s estates;
but, after her mother’s death, she lived in family with her sister,
Lady Binning, to whom, and to her second son, the estates were
destined, on the death of the eldest sister without children. She
died in June W59.
‘~’ The modern name is Marehmont House, and the present build-
ing is modern. It is embosomed in rich plantations; is a plain, but
stately mansion, and is approached by one of the noblest avenues in
the kingdom. The rooms contain an extensive collection of family
and historical pictures.
of Marchmont), was eighth Baron of Polwarth of his
name, and was descended from a younger branch of
the illustrious house of Dunbar, Earls of March,
whose origin is traced to Saxon kings of England,
and to Princes or Earls of NOl‘tlllll'llbBl‘lEtlld. Her
mother was Grisell Kerr, daughter of Sir Thomas
Kerr of Cavers. She was the eldest of eighteen
children, whom Lady Hume here to her husband,
except two, who died in infancy. She was named
after her mother, and, being from infancy an inter-
esting child, was the darling and comfort of her
parents.
Her father, who was one of the most distinguished
patriots and statesmen of his day, suffered not a little
for his zealous appearances in the .cause of religion
and liberty. In 1674:, he went up to London with
the Duke of Hamilton and others, to lay the griev-
ances the nation suffered from the Duke of Lauder—
dale’s administration, before the king. The next
year, the privy council having appointed garrisons
to be placed in the houses of certain noblemen and
gentlemen, in several counties, for the purpose of
suppressing conventicles, and having ordained that
the respective counties should furnish them with
meal, pots, pans, and candle, several shires refused
to contribute for the maintenance of the garrisons,
and Sir Patrick Hume was commissioned from the
shire of Merse to complain to the council. Having
remonstrated against this imposition as contrary to
law, and appealed to the court of session for redress,
he was imprisoned in September that year. In
a letter to the council, dated 5th October, his
Majesty approves of their imprisoning Polwarth,
“as being a factions person,” and con'n'nands them
to declare him incapable of public trust, and to
send him close prisoner to Stirling Castle, till
further orders. Sir Patrick continued in prison for
many months. The king’s letter, giving orders for
his being set at liberty, though still continuing



LADY BAILLIE OF JEIWISWOOD.
207


him incapable of all public trust, is dated Feb-
ruary 24, 1676.1
Lady Grisell thus began her life during the
troubles of the persecution. At the time of her
father’s liberation from prison, she was little more
than ten years of age; and, soon after, those romantic
incidents occur in her life which have given her a
historical celebrity. From the tact and activity
with which, far beyond one of her years, she accom-
plished whatever she was intrusted with, her parents
sent her on confidential missions, which she executed
with singular fidelity and success. In the summer
of that same year, when Robert Baillie of J erviswood,
the early and intimate friend of her father, was im-
prisoned2 for rescuing his brother-in-law, Mr. James
Kirkton, from a wicked persecutor, Captain William
Carstairs, she was sent by her father from his country
house to Edinburgh,3 a long road, to try if, from
her age, she could get admittance into the prison
unsuspected, and slip a letter of information and
advice into his hand, and bring back from him what
intelligence she could. Proceeding on her journey
to the capital, she succeeded in getting access to
Baillie, though we are not informed in what way.
The authoress of “Metrical Legends of Exalted
Characters,” has imagined the manner in which the
little messenger got into Baillie’s cell, and the cir
cumstances of their interview. She describes Baillie,
while sitting in his dark dungeon, sad and lonely, as
hearing something moving softly towards him, and as
inquiring, on observing that it quickly stood by his
side,
“ Such sense in eyes, so simply mild!
Is it a woman or a child?
W110 art thou, damsel sweet? are not mine eyes begnilcd ?”
To which the visitant answers :—
“ ‘ No; from the Redbraes’ tower I come;
My father is Sir Patrick Hume;
And he has sent me for thy good,
IIis dearly-honoured J erviswood.
Long have I round these walls been straying,
As if with other children playing;
Long near the gate have kept my watch
The sentry’s changing-time to catch.
With stealthy steps I gain’d the shade
By the close-winding staircase made,
And when the surly turnkey enter’d,
But little dreaming in his mind
“he follow’d him so close behind,
Into this darken’d cell, with beating heart, I ventured.‘ ”
The legend then describes her as taking from her
breast a letter from her father, and with “an eager,


joyful, look,” presenting it to Baillie; who, after
reading it, and shedding blessings on her youthful
head, gave her his answer to her father’s secret
note, and then inquired for those she left behind,
“ In Redbraes’ tower, her native dwelling,
And set her artlcss tongue a-telling,
Which urchin dear had tallest grown,
And which the greatest learning shown,
0i‘ lesson, sermon, psalm, and note,
And‘ Sabbath questions learnt by rote,
And merry tricks and gambols play’d
By ev’ning fire, and forfeits paid.”
But in whatever way young Grisell got access to
Baillie, and whatever were the circumstances of their
interview, she successfully accomplished the purpose
of her mission. It is also to be observed, that it
was in the prison, on this occasion, that she first
saw Mr. Baillie’s son, and that then and there
originated that intimacy and attachment between
him and her, which afterwards issued in their happy
marriage. From that time, Grisell, who was the
favourite of her parents before, became still more
endeared to them; and, reposing in her great con-
fidence, they employed her on many adventures,
which, in those times, would have been perilous to
persons more advanced in years, but in which, by
her finesse and presence of mind, aided by her tender
age, which prevented suspicion, she completely
succeeded.
About the month of July 1678, her father was
again made prisoner in the tolbooth of Edinburgh.1
But a petition having been presented to the king in
his behalf, praying that, in consequence of his indis-
position, he might be removed to a more healthy
prison, the place of his imprisonment was soon
changed from Edinburgh tolbooth to Dumbarton
Castle, in obedience to a letter from the king to the
council, dated 43th September. He continued there
a close prisoner for, at least, nearly a year, when he
was liberated on the intercession of his English
relations, and especially of the Countess of North-
umberland. The order for lns liberation, which is
contained in a letter from the king to the privy
council, dated 17th July 1679,2 states, “that he had
been imprisoned for reasons known to his Majesty,

1 Wodrow’s History, vol. ii., pp. ‘295, 357. Douglas’s Peerage,
vol. ii., p. 179. Row’s Life of Robert Blair, pp. 562, 565.
2 He was imprisoned in June 1676, and was kept a prisoner for
four months.
3 Lady Murray says, that her mother, when sent on this errand,
was “ at the age of twelve.” But, from comparing the date of her
birth with the time of Baillie’s imprisonment, it appears that she
was then only between ten and eleven years of age.
1 The exact date of his second imprisonment is uncertain. But
that it was about the time stated in the text, appears from the fol-
lowing sentence in “ The Grievances of Landerdale’s Administration,”
which were in circulation about June 1679 (Wodrow’s History,
vol. iii., p. 168) ;——“And Sir Patrick Hume hath been now almost a
year imprisoned a second time, and nothing is yet laid to his charge.”
-—Ibid., vol. iii., p. 161.
2 Lady Murray says that he “ was confined fifteen months in
Dumbarton Castle.” She must either be mistaken as to the exact
period of his imprisonment, or he must have remained in prison
some months after the king issued orders for his liberation. She
adds, “ and was then set at liberty, without ever being told for what
he was put up all that time.”



208 rue mines or
THE COVENANT.



and tending to secure the public peace; and,” it is
added, “now the occasions of suspicion and public
jealousy being over, he is ordered to be liberate.” 1
“For an lllll'il‘lSOlllllClli) under such motives,” it has
been justly observed, “his reputation is not likely
to suffer in the eyes of posterity; but, if that pos-
terity contemplates the picture of the tyranny which
weighed upon Scotland, during the Duke of Lauder-
dale’s administration, and to which there is no par-
allel in the English history of that day, it will do
justice to the patriotism and public virtue which
rose up in opposition to it.”2
During the time that her father was a prisoner in
Edinburgh tolbooth and in Dumbarton Castle, young
Griscll made repeated journeys from Berwickshire
to the place of his confinement, to carry to him
intelligence, or to administer to him comfort. On
such errands she always gladly went, when sent by
her mother, whom affliction and care of the younger
children kept at home, and who, besides, was less able
to make journeys. Her mother, too, would have been
more narrowly watched, and more readily suspected,
than one of her tender age.
\V hen, in October 1683, her father’s friend, Robert
Baillie, was apprehended in London, and sent down
a prisoner to Scotland, her father, who was impli-
cated in the same patriotic measures for preventing
a popish succession to the British throne, for which
Baillie was arrested, had too good ground to be
alarmed for his own personal safety. But he was
allowed, it would appear, to remain undisturbed in
his own house, till the month of September next year,
when orders were issued by the government for his
apprehension, and a party of troops had come to his
house on two different occasions for that purpose,
though they failed in getting hold of him. Upon
this, he found it necessary to withdraw from home,
and to keep himself in concealment, till he got an
opportunity of going over to the Continent.3 The



lWodrcw’s History, vol. ii., p. 481; and vol. iii., p. 161. The
Marchmont Papers, edited by the Right Honourable Sir George
Henry Rose, Preface.
2 The Marchniont Papers, Preface.
3 Lady Murray says, “After persecution began afresh, and my
grandfather, Baillie, [was] again in prison, her [Grisell’s] father
thought it necessary to keep concealed; and soon found he had too
good reason for so doing; parties being continually sent out in
search of him, and often to his own house, to the terror of all in it.”
Sir Patrick himself, in his Narrative of .krgyll’s Expedition in 1685,
says, “ In the month of September last [1684-], when order was given
to apprehend me, and my house was twice searched by troops sent
for that end, so as I was obliged to abscond till I got a convenient
way of getting off the isle, you know how it was with me and the man-
ner ofmy living.”—The M archmont Papers, vol, iii., p. 2. “ l lume, 01'
Polwarth,” says l-‘ountainhall, “ being advertised he “'21s to be seized,
tied, and after search, not being found, his lady told he' had lain
two years in prison, on a eaprice of I.auderdale’s, and sO he did not
desire to run that risk of new again, not hax ing a body to endure it;
and it was Lauderdalc’s bringing down the Highland host in IGTS
spot to which he betook himself for shelter was the
family burying place, a vault under ground at Pol-
warth church, at the distance of a mile from the
house. \Vhere he was, no person knew but Lady
Hume, Grisell, and one man, James \Vinter, a car-
penter, who used to work in the house, and lived
a mile off, whom they deemed trustworthy, and of
Whose fidelity they were not disappointed. The
frequent examinations to which servants were at
that time subjected, and the oaths by which it was
attempted to extort discoveries from them, made
G-risell and her mother afraid to commit the secret to
any of them. By the assistance of James Winter,
they got a bed and bedclothes carried during the
night to his hiding place; and there he was con—
cealed for a month, during which time the only light
he had was that admitted by means of a chink at
one end, through which nobody on the outside
could see who or what was in the interior. \Vhile
he abode in this receptacle of the dead, Griscll, with
the most exemplary filial tenderness, and with the
most vigilant precaution, ministered to his temporal
wants and comfort. Regularly at midnight, when
men were sunk in sleep, she went alone to this
dreary vault, carrying to him a supply of food and
drink; and, to hear him company, she stayed as long
as she could, taking care to get home before day, to
prevent discovery.1 She had a great deal of humour
in telling a story, and, during her stay, she took a
delight in telling him, nor was be less delighted in
hearing her tell him, such incidents at home as had
amused herself and the rest of the family; and these
were often the cause of much mirth and laughter to
them both. At that time she had a great terror
for a churchyard, especially in the dark, as is not
uncommon in young persons even at the age of
eighteen or nineteen, from the idle nursery stories
they have heard in childhood; out her affectionate
concern for her father made her stumble over the
graves every night alone, fearless of everything but
soldiers and parties in search of him; and such was
her dread of them, that the least noise or motion of
a leaf made her tremble. The manse of the minister
of the parish was near the church; and the first night
she went on her pious errand, his dogs, of which he
seems to have had more than one, and which, as has
been observed, were evidently in favour of the arbi-
which occasioned Polwarth speakingagainst him September 11, 1684.”
—1“ountainhall’s Notes, p. 10%.
1 In the inscription upon her monument, given at the close of this
sketch, it is said that, when Grisell thus ministered to her father,
she was “ an infant.” This is clearly a mistake. li‘rom comparing
the date of her birth with the time when her father was concealed
in the family burying \ ault, which was in the latter part of the year
1684, it is evident that she was then a girl of nearly nineteen years
of age.



LADY BAlLLIE OF JERVISWOOD.
209


trary party, continued to bark with such incessant
violence, as put her into the utmost dread of a dis-

mother, that the most likely means. of getting
quit of this cause of annoyance was to endea-
covery. In this emergency, necessity, which is said vour, if possible, to make the minister believe that
to be fruitful in invention, suggested it to her his dogs were mad, and that therefore it was
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Lady Grisell and Sir Patrick Hume in the Vault.
dangerous to retain them. She accordingly sent
for the minister next day, and succeeding in pro-
ducing on his mind the intended conviction, got him
to hang them all; and thus this amiable and affec-
tionate daughter continued her midnight walks with-
out further molestation.
There was also some difficulty in getting food to
carry to her father, without exciting the suspicious
of the servants; and the only way in which she got
it was by stealing off her plate, at dinner, into her
lap, a portion of the meat which had been prepared.
Many an amusing story she was wont to tell her
own children, after the days of the persecution
had closed, about this and other things of the like
nature.1 Her father liked sheep’s head, and, while
the children were eating their broth, she had suc-
ceeded in conveying, by stealth, the most part of one
into her lap. When her brother Alexander,'~’ then a

1
boy of about nine years of age, had disposed of his
broth, the little fellow looked up in the hope of getting
something else to eat, and, perceiving with astonish-
ment the empty plate, exclaimed, “Mother, will you
look at Grisell; while we have been eating our broth,
she has eat up the whole sheep’shead P” This occa-
sioned much mirth amongst them all, and when Grisell
archly told her father the story, the next time she
went out to him, he was greatly amused by it, and
desired that Sandy might have a share of the next

1 “I should never have done,” says Lady Murray, “if I related, or
could remember all the particulars I have heard my mother tell of
those times—a subject she never tired of.”
2Alexander was born in 1675. Like his mother, brothers, and
sisters, he shared his father’s exile in Holland. After the Revolu-
tion, having married the daughter and heiress of Sir George Camp-
bell of Cessnork, whose estate was entailed upon her and her heirs,
he was distinguished as Sir Alexander Campbell of Cessnock, till
the death of his eldest brother, Patrick, in 1710, who, though twice
married, had no issue, when he became Lord Polwarth. Having
studied the law, he entered on the practice of it as an advocate, and
became a lord of session before he was thirty years of age. He was
a privy counsellor, and a lord of the erchequer in Scotland, and was
a member of parliament, first for Kirkwall, and then for Berwick-
shire. On the death of his father, he became Earl of Marchmont,
and died in January, 1740. In his religious principles and habits,
he resembled his father. “I find in his Bible,” says Sir George H.
Rose, “in his own handwriting, his name, the date of ‘Cambray,
lst May 1725,’ and the following note —‘ To be read thrice a year;
first, 1st January; second, 1st May; third, lst September :’ and the
memorandum to do the thing is accompanied by the plan for doing
it, by a division of the Scriptures into portions, marked out by him,
through the whole of the volume, for every morning and evening of
each period of four mont-hs.”-—-Tl1e Marchmont Papers, vol. i.,
, Preface, pp. xliii., xliv.
2n
210
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.


sheep’s head. During all this time, having a happy i
natural temperament of mind, and being under the
influence of genuine religion, Sir Patrick showed the
same constant composure and cheerfulness of mind
which he continued to possess to the close of life.
He sought and found comfort from the IVord of God,
and especially from the Psalms of David, which, con-
taining a rich treasure of heavenly instruction and
consolation, have often been the means of sustaining
and encouraging good men in the time of trial. He
had no light to read by, but, having previously com-
mitted to memory Buchanan’s Latin version of the
Psalms, he beguiled the weary hours of his confine-
ment, and derived much comfort and enjoyment, by
repeating them to himself.1 This version he retained
in his memory to his dying day. “ Two years before
he died,” says Lady Murray, “I was witness to his
desiring my mother to take up that book, which,
amongst others, always lay upon his table, and bid

1 While he thus lay, surrounded by the gloomy relicts of the dead,
Sir Patrick, it seems, was superior to superstitious fears, to which a
concern for his safety, as well as the strength of his mind, would
doubtless contribute. “ While he was sitting, one night,” tradition
reports, “ by a small table, with a light,* engaged in the perusal of
Buchanan’s Latin version of the Psalms, his eye was suddenly
attracted to a human skull at his feet, which, on more minute
observation, appeared to move slightly, and at short intervals.
Although of strong mind, and convinced that it was either the effect
of optical delusion, or that of an imagination powerfully acted upon
by the objects around him, still he was not a little perplexed how
to settle the question in his own mind; and, continuingr to observe
it with increasing interest, the motion, at last, became so obvious,
that the skull seemed as if animated, and left no subterfuge for his
incrcdulity. The knight, lnnvevcr—with a coolness and composure
which did credit to his philosophy, and resolved to ascertain, by still
more palpable evidence, the actual state of the matter—applied the
point of his cane to the ghastly relic, and, by a sudden jerk, turned
it over. This done, the nervous suspense was instantly relieved, and
a mouse, that had been banqueting in the once warm brain of some
departed Yoriek, sprang from its burrow, and left the knight to
exclaim, in words suited to the occasion,
‘To what base uses we may return, Horatio" ”
—Bcattie’s Scotland Illustrated, vol. i., p. 25. “There is a similar
story,” says the same writer, “which we have heard somewhere
abroad—and known, perhaps, to some of our readers—which states,
‘that in a domestic chapel, belonging to a certain chateau, a myste-
rious sound was heard, nightly, for a considerable time, to the great
alarm and annoyance of the inmates, and ultimately discovered to
proceed from a skull, which performed a rotatory march along the
floor of the chancel—resting, and recemmencing the movement, at
short intervals. The construction at first put on this phenomenon
is obvious; but the secret spring was not discovered for some time;
till the skull, becoming stationary, was found, on examination, to
contain a rat, which had so greatly increased in bulk, during its
residence in the deserted temple of genius, that the porch through
which it first entered refused the same means of retreat. It was,
therefore, during the hard struggle for emancipation that the refrac-
tory skull was thrown into such wonderful attitudes 3 while the rat,
it may be added, was suffered, from superstitions motives, to retain
possession of his unhallowed tenement, till a rigid fast having suc-
ceeded to days of feasting, should enable him to make his exit as he
had made his entrance, and leave him once more ‘ as poor as a
church rat.’ ”
' Lady Murray, as we have stated in the text, says that he had no light, but he
may occasionally have bad one.

ding her try if he had forgot his Psalms, by naming
any one she would have him repeat, and by castingher
eye over it, she would know if he was right, though
she did not understand it ; and he missed not a word
in any place she named to him, and said they had
been the great comfort of his life, by night and day,
on all occasions.”
As this gloomy vault, in which Sir Patrick had
taken refuge, was no fit habitation for the living, his
lady and daughter were contriving other places in
which he might more comfortably remain concealed.
Among other suggestions, it occurred to them, that
a hiding place might be formed in their own house
beneath a drawing-out bed, in one of the rooms on
a ground floor, of which Lady Grisell kept the key.
She, and their confidential servant, James Winter,
before mentioned, laboured hard in the night time
in making a hole in the earth, after they had lifted
the wooden floor. The way in which they proceeded
was by scratching up the earth with their hands,
being afraid, lest, had they dug it with any instru-
ment, the noise might have created alarm, and led
to a discovery. So laborious and persevering was
Grisell at this task, that she left not a nail upon her
fingers; and, as the earth was dug out, she assisted
Winter in carrying it in a sheet, on his back, and
in casting it out at the window, into the garden.
'Winter next constructed a box, at his own house,
of sufficient size for her father to lie in, with a bed
and bedclothes ; and be bored holes in the box, for
the free admission of air. To accomplish all this
was a work of considerable time ; but when it was
accomplished, the mind of Grisell was greatly light-
ened, and she thought herself the most secure and
happy creature alive. The only fear she and her
mother had was, that, as the hole was under ground,
water might flow into the box; and, to ascertain
whether or not this might be the case, they gave
it the trial of a month 5 during which time, Grisell
having examined it every day, and finding no water
in it, her father ventured home, trusting to this for
safety.
But after he had been at home for a week or two,
during which time the hole was daily examined as
usual, Grisell, one day on lifting the boards, observed
the bed to bounce to the top, the box being full of
water. At this she was greatly alarmed, and almost
fainted, it being then the only place they knew, in
which her father could find shelter. Her father, how-
ever, with great composure, said to his lady and her,
that he saw they must tempt providence no longer,
and that he ought now to leave them, and seek refuge
in a foreign land. In this resolution he was con-
firmed, by the news which the carrier brought from



LADY BAILLIE Oh‘ JERVISWOOD.
211



Edinburgh, that Robert Baillie of J erviswood had,
the day before, been executed at the Cross of Edin-
burgh, and that all were sorry for his death, though
they durst not show it. All intercourse by letters
being then dangerous, this was the first information
Sir Patrick and his family had received of the fate of
their beloved friend; and it gave a greater shock to
their feelings, from its being altogether unexpected.
Preparations were immediately made for his depart-
ure; and Grisell wrought incessantly, night and day,
in making such alterations on his garments as would
serve the more effectually to disguise him. It was
then necessary to trust their grieve, John Allan,
who fainted when told that his master was in the
house, and that he behoved, early next morning, to
set out with him, and accompany him into England;
pretending, to the rest of the servants, that he was
going to Morpeth fair, at which he had got orders
to sell some horses. The parting between Sir
Patrick and his family was sorrowful indeed; but
after he was fairly gone, though deprived of his
society, and ignorant of what calamities might befall
either him or themselves, they were greatly relieved
in mind, and even happy in thinking that he was 011
the way to the land of safety. On the morning on
which he started, he made a narrow escape; a party
of troopers, sent to apprehend him, having come to
the house not long after he had left it, and searched
it very closely. Nor was it less providential that
his servant, who was riding at some distance behind
him, had missed him before crossing the Tweed; for
during that time the party, having probably, when
at the house, heard the sound of horses running,
suspecting the truth, followed, and came upon the
servant; but they had left him before he again fell in
with his master. Sir l’atrick reached London in
safety, and thence went to France; whence, after a
short stay, he proceeded to the Netherlands, and
thence to Holland. The course of his read he thus
describes, in his Narrative of Argyll’s Expedition:—
“ So soon as I got upon the Continent, I stayed but
short [time] in France, but spent some weeks in
Dunkirk, Ostcnd, Bruges, and other towns in Elan-
ders and Brabant, where I traversed before I came
resided there, I went to converse with the Duke of
Monmouth, but he was gone thence to the Hague;
which led me, after waiting some time for him, in
expectation of his return, on to Antwerp, and so to
Holland.” ‘


Meanwhile, proceedings are instituted by the go-
vernment against him. On the 13th of November
1684‘, the lord advocate was ordered by the council
to pursue him for treason. On the 26th of January
1655, he was denounced a rebel, and put to the horn,
and all his lands, heritages, goods, and gear, forfeited
to his Majesty’s use, for not compearing before the
council, to answer to the false charge of “contriving
the death of his Majesty, and the Duke, his brother,
overturning the government, converse with rebels,
and concealing of treason.” And, on the 28th of
January, the privy council gave orders to secure his
goods and rents, to be made forthcoming for his
Majesty‘s use.‘
He had not been long in Holland when the news
of the death of Charles II. reached him. On this
intelligence, the Scottish and English exiles resident
there, who had before been concerting measures for
the deliverance of their country from tyranny and
Popery, becoming now more alarmed than ever, from
their personal knowledge of the Duke of York, who
was about to succeed to the throne, matured a plan
for the invasion of England, under the Duke of
Monmouth, and of Scotland, under the Earl of
Argyll. In this conspiracy, Sir Patrick was a lead-
ing man, and be accompanied the Earl of Argyll in
his expedition to Scotland. After Argyll was taken
prisoner, and his forces were completely dispersed,
Sir Patrick found an asylum in the house of a par-
ticular friend, Mr. Montgomery, the laird of Lang-
shaw, in Ayrshire. It also appears that he was
concealed at Kilwinning by “that eminent religious
lady,” Eleonorc Dunbar, aunt to the then Earl of
Eglinton, for several weeks in an empty house, till
he got out of the country.2 It was in this retreat
that he composed his interesting narrative of the
leading events of Argyll’s invasion. Leaving Kil-
winning, he found an opportunity of safely crossing
over to Ireland, first reaching Dublin, whence he
embarked for Bourdeaux, a large city in France. 3
Having remained some months in France, he next
travelled to Geneva on foot,4 and, after remaining

_ I acters of the Officers of the Crown and of the State in Scotland, is
to Brussels; whither, [as] soon as I heard that he ‘
lThe Marehmont Papers,vol. iii., p. 2. Lady Murray is incorrect
when, in gi\ ing an account of his route on the Continent at this time,
she says that, “ from London, he went to France, and travelled from
Bourdeaux to Holland on foot.”
Crawford, in his Lives and Char-
also rnis'aken when, in speaking of this same journey, he says, that
after getting beyond sea. Sir Patrick “ lived a while at Geneva, from
1 whence he can“. dawn to Holland, where he waited on the Prince
of Orange.” lioth Lad)‘ Murray and Crawford seem to confound
the course of read which Sir Patrick took on the Continent, on he
escape at this time, with that which he took on his escape after the
‘faIinre of Argyll’s expedition. See Note 4 of this page.
'- Wodrow’s History, vol. iv., p. 226.
1 lbid, vol. iv., p. 312.
9 Crawford’s Lives and Characters Ste.
4 That he was at Bonrdeaux in France, and Geneva, when escap-
ing from Scotland at this time, is evident from his Letters, printed
at the end of Lady Murray’s Memoirs of her parents. His first
letter from Bourdeaux was written November 15, 1685. There



212
THE LADIES Oll‘ Tl-lE COVENANT.




there for some time, went on foot to Rotterdam, and ultimately took up his residence at Utrecht. In
these peregrinations, he assumed the character of a \
surgeon; and, being able to bleed, he always carried ,
lancets on his person. Even after taking up hisi
residence in Holland, though living under the im-
mediate protection of the Prince of Orange, and
honoured with the personal friendship of that prince,
who, looking on him as a confessor for the Protest-
ant religion and the liberties of his country, treated
him with a very particular respect, he judged it
expedient to continue to keep up his assumed
character as a medical gentleman. After his arrival
in that country, he sent to his lady his Narrative
of Argyll’s Expedition, formerly referred to, which is
written in the form of a letter to her, and which,
though it was written in Scotland, he had not found,
while there, a convenient opj'iortunity of sending to
her. This Narrative he begins as follows :—
“MY DEAR IIEART.l—-Slli(36 I can have small
hope of seeing you any more, or enjoying the
pleasure of conversing with you, a thing wherein
as now I more than ever discern my happiness on
this earth did much consist, not knowing how long
God will preserve me from the hands of mine
enemies, who hunt earnestly after my life, have set
a rate upon my head, and done otherwise what they
can to cutoff from me all ways of escaping their
fury; I found myself obliged, on many accounts,
public and my own, to spend some time, in giving
to the nation, and my friends and my family, some
account of the matters I have of late had hand in,
and of myself; that the affair chiefly, many worthy
persons therein concerned, and I, may not by ignor—
ant, or false representations, be prejudged or dis-
credited; and there is none to whom I can address
it so duly as you, or so safely ; for though this mock
Parliament have made it, by their forfaulting me,
very dangerous for others, yet you may with some-




what more safety receive a letter from me; also
none will take so much care of dispersing the con
tents as I think you will; besides that there is none
I can be more obliged to satisfy than you by it; and
for these purposes I recommend it to your care and
discretion.” 1
Sir Patrick’s estate having been forfeited to the
crown, Grisell, after he had left the country, went to
London, by sea, with her mother; whose object, in
undertaking that journey, was to endeavour to
obtain, from government, an allowance out of her
husband’s estate, for herself and her ten children.
They waited long in London, and were assisted in
their endeavours by many good friends, from whom
they met with much kindness and civility, as Lord
W'illiam Russell’s family, Lord Wharton’s, and others,
but all she could obtain was, according to Lady
Murray, only about £150 per annum.2 This matter
being settled, they returned to Scotland to prepare
for going over to Holland, to Sir Patrick, who sent
for them, and they all went over together, with
the exception of Grisell’s sister, Julian, whose ill
health unfittcd her for such a journey. Grisell
afterwards returned from Holland by herself, to
bring over Julian, when her health was in some
measure recruited, to join the rest of the family.
She was at the same time intrusted with the
management of some of her father’s business, and
got instructions to collect as much of the debts due
to him as possible. “All this she performed with
her usual discretion and success, though not with’
out encountering adventures that would have com-
pletely overwhelmed the resources of most young
ladies of her age and rank ” in our day. Her sister
Julian was still so very weak, as to require the
attendance of a nurse during the whole of the
voyage, which happened to be very tedious, and in
which they encountered a severe storm, the terrors
of which were aggravated by the brutality of the
captain of the vessel. Grisell had bargained for the
cabin bed, and was very well provided in provisions
and other necessary things. Three or four other
ladies had also agreed with the captain for the same
bed; and a dispute arose between these ladies in
the cabin, as to who should have the bed, in which,
however, Grisell took no part, and a gentleman

is also a letter dated January 13, 1686, another dated two day s,
and another four days after, all which appear to have been written
from that city. There are also two letters dated Genera, the one
on May 17, and the other on June 12, 1650. His letter from Bour-
deaux of January 13, shows that he gave himself out there as a
surgeon. -Ile signs that letter as Peter Wallace, and it was as
Dr. Wallace that Captain Burd, who travelled with him on font a
part of the way from France to Holland, knew him.
1 “This paper was addressed to his wife from Holland—Note, in
Rose’s Observations in Fox’s History. There is a second Copy of
this Narrative, apparently in the handwriting of Alexander, Earl of
Marchmont, which is headed as followsz—‘Letter to D. Griselle
bar, from her husband, Sir Patrick Hume, in anno 1685, wrytcn
from Kilwinning, where he lurked at the time, by the kind favour
of Lady —— 1\Iontgomerie, sister to the Earl of Eglinton, and
spouse of Dunbar, younger of Baldoon, taken from a copy
wryten of his own hand, which is yet amongst his papers.’ ’ '—1\—()t(i
of Editor of The Marehmont Papers.
1 The Marchmont Papers, vol. iii., p. 2.
2 Sir l’atrick’s estate was afterwards, by the king’s letter, dated
of -— 1686, gifted to Kenneth, Earl of Seaforth, under several
reservations mentioned, one of which was, that he be “ bound to pay
the young Lady Polwarth’s jointure, conform to her contract of
marriage with the said Sir Patrick Hume, and the additional jointure
thereafter granted unto her; both extending to three thousand
merks Scots money,” i.e., £166, 138. 4d. sterling—The Marchmont
‘ Papers, \‘01. iii., p. (37.




LADY BAILLIE Oh‘ JERVISWOOD.
21.3


present bade her let the disputants settle the matter
between them; for, said be, “You Will see how it
will end.” Two of the ladies went into the cabin bed,
and the rest found a bed as they best could ; while
Grisell and her sister lay upon the floor, with a bag
of books, which she was carrying to her father, for
their pillow. They had not lain long, when the
captain of the vessel coming down to the cabin,
voraciously devoured their whole provisions. He
then said to the two ladies in the cabin bed, “ Turn
out, turn out 3” and, stripping before them, lay down
in the bed himself. But a terrible storm arising,
which required his attendance and labour on deck
to save the ship, he had soon to rise, and they saw
no more of him till they landed at the Drill. From
the Brill they set out the same night, on foot, for
Rotterdam, in company with a gentleman who came
over at the same time, to take refuge in Holland
from the persecution which was raging in Scotland,
and who was of great service to them. The night
was cold, wet, and disagreeable, and the roads were
very bad; Julian, in consequence of her previous
ill health, and being only a girl, was not well able
to travel, and soon lost her shoes in the mud, upon
which Grisell carried her on her back the rest of
the way, the gentleman kindly carrying their small .
On arriving at Rotterdam, they found;

luggage.
their eldest brother Patrick and their father waiting
for them, to convey them to Utrecht, where the
family resided; and no sooner did she reach home,
than, in the midst of her beloved parents, sisters, and
brothers, she forgot all her hardships, and felt the
utmost contentment and happiness.
They lived three years and a half in Holland, and,
during that time, Grisell made a second voyage to
Scotland, about her father’s worldly affairs. Her
father, to escape detection, did not stir abroad,
and, as has been previously said, still continued to
assume the character of a surgeon, passing under the
name of Dr. Wallace; though it was well known, by
the Scottish exiles and their friends, who he was.
Finding their greatest comfort at home, and their
house being a place of constant resort to the Pres-
byterian refugees, of whom, at that time, there was
a great number in Holland, they were particularly
desirous of having a good house; and they rented
one at nearly a fourth part of their whole annual
income. From the smallness of their income, they
could not afford to keep a servant, having only,
besides themselves, a little girl to wash the dishes;
so that the duties of the kitchen, and, indeed, the
management cf the whole household establishment,
devolved on Grisell; for which, from her active]
and industrious habits, she was well qualified, and5

by which she proved a great blessing to her parents,
brothers, and sisters. During the whole time of
their residence in Holland, a week did not pass in
which she did not sit up two nights engaged in some
necessary household occupation. “ She went to
market, went to the mill to have their corn ground,
which it seems is the way with good managers there,
i from the toil and drudgery to which she had to
i dressed the linen, cleaned the house, made ready the
dinner, mended the ehildren’s stockings and other
clothes, made what she could for them, and, in
short, did everything.” Her sister Christian, who
was a year or two younger, had no turn for business,
but had good talents for music, and was full of
vivacity and humour. Out of their small income,
her parents bought, at a trifling price, a harpsichord,
which turned out to be an excellent instrument 3 and
in the musical performances of Christian, who both
i played and sung well, her father and mother, and
the rest of the family, who were fond of music,
found an agreeable relaxation in their vacant hours.
Grisell had the same talents for music as her sister,
and was equally fond of it; but the management
of household affairs devolving on her, she had less
leisure for indulging in that amusement. The per-
formance of these domestic offices was to her, how-
ever, labours of love; and so far was she from envy-
ing or upbraiding her sister, who was exempted
submit, that many jokes used to pass between them
about their different occupations. Nor had she any
good ground for wishing to exchange occupations
with her sister. “ ‘lt is more blessed to minister,
than to be ministered unto,’ said the most perfect
character that ever appeared in human form. Could
any young person, of ever such a listless and idle
disposition, not entirely debased by selfishness, read
of the different occupations of Lady Grisell Baillie
and this sister of hers, nearly of her own age, whose
time was mostly spent in reading, or playing on a
musical instrument, and wish, for one moment, to
have been the last mentioned lady, rather than the
other P” 1 Every morning, before six o’clock, Grisell
lighted her father’s fire in his study, after which she
awoke him, for he was always a good sleeper;
a blessing, among others, which she inherited from
him. She then prepared for him warm small beer,
with a spoonful of hitters in it-——a beverage which
he continued to take every morning, as soon as he
got up, during the whole of his life. She next got
the children dressed, and brought them all into his
room ; where he taught them the different branches
of education, the Latin, ~french, or Dutch languages,
lJoanna Bailh'e’s Metrical Legends of Exalted Characters, l’re-
face, p. XXXll.





214: THE LADIES or
THE COVENANT.





geography, writing, reading, or English, according
to their ages; and his lady taught them such depart-
ments of learning, and such accomplishments, as
belong to the province of the female teacher. In
this useful and interesting way, were Sir Patrick
lIume and his lady employed during the whole period
of their residence in Holland; their outward circum~ l
stances being such, that they could not afford to
put their children to school. Grisell, when she had
some spare time, took a lesson with the rest in
French and Dutch, and also amused herself with
music. “I have now,” says her daughter, Lady
Murray, “a book of songs, of her writing, when
there; many of them are interrupted, half writ, some
broke oil? in the middle of a sentence.”
Whether this collection, which is probably now
lost, consisted of songs altogether of her own com-
position or not, it is not said. But a song of her
composition, which affords a favourable specimen of
her talents in this species of Writing, has been long
in print; viz., “lVere na my heart licht I wad dee,”
and it may gratify the reader to see a copy of it
here.
And now he gaes dauudrin about the dykes,
And a’ he dow do is to hund the tykes:
The live-lang nicht he ne’er steeks his e’e;
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
The live-lung nicht, the.
Were I young for thee, as I ha’e been,
We shou’d ha’e been gallopin down on you green,
And linkin it blythe on the lily-white lee;
And wow gin I were but young for thee !
And linkin it, &c. 1
“This,” as has been ust-ly said by a writer in the
Scots Magazine, “is very good; at once simple,
lively, and tender.” 2
The same writer expresses a hope that the book
of songs in Grisell’s handwriting, to which Lady
Murray refers as being in her possession, may
yet be recovered, and that it might afford further
specimens of her poetical talents; or, if not alto-
gether of her own composition, might furnish some
valuable additions to the lyric treasures by which
Scotland has been so peculiarly distinguished. I'le
then adds, “IVe are enabled to subjoin one unpub-
lished fragment of this description—supposed to be
Lady Grisell’s composition, from circumstantial evi-
dence. It was lately discovered, in her handwriting,
among a parcel of old letters, and enclosed in one
of them, written, about the time of her father’s for-
feiture, to her brother Patrick, then serving with
Mr. Baillie in the Prince of Orange’s guards. The
first two of the following stanzas are copied from
this MS. The others (in brackets) are subjoined,
as an imperfect attempt to complete the song in a
similar style, but with a more direct reference to
fthe situation of Lady Grisell and the family of
I Polwarth at that disastrous period.”

0 the ewe-bughting’s bonnie, baith e’ening and morn,
\Wicn our blythe shepherds play on their bog-reed and horn;
While we’re milking they ’re lilting baith pleasant and clear——
But my heart ’s like to break when I think of my dear!
O the shepherds take pleasure to blow on the horn,
To raise up their flocks 0’ sheep s .on i’ the morn;
On the bonnie green banks they feed pleasant and free—
But, alas! my dear Heart, all my sighing ’s for thee E
l
l
l
l
l
l
1
[How blythe wi’ my Sandy out o’er the brown fells,
I ha’e followed the flocks through the fresh heather bells !
But now I sit greeting amang the lang broom,
In the dowie green cleuchs whare the burnie glides down.
0 wae to the traitors! an’ black be their fa’,
Wha banish’d my kind-hearted shepherd awa!
Wha banish’d my laddie ayont the wide sea,
That aye was sac leal to his country and me.

But the cruel oppressors shall tremble for fear,
When the True-blue and Orange in triumph appear;
And the star 0’ the East leads them o’er the dark >ca,
Wi’ freedom to Scotland, and Sandy to me] 3

l
l
There was ance a may, and she loo’d na men,
She biggit her bonny bow’r down in you glen;
But now she cries dool ! and a-well a-day !
Come down the green gate, and come here away.
But now she cries, 820.
When bonny young Johnny came o'er the sea,
He said he saw naething sac lovely as me ;
lle hecht me baith rings and mony braw things;
And were na my heart licht I wad due.
IIe hecht me, 8:0.
He had a wee titty that loo’ed na me,
Because I was twice as bonny as she ;
She rais’d such a pother ’twi.\'t him and his mother,
'Ihat were na my heart licht I wad dee.
She rais’d, &c.
The day it was set, and the bridal to be,
The wife took a dwam, and lay down to dee,
She main’d and she grain’d out o’ dolour and pain,
'I‘ill he vow’d he never wad see me again.
She main’d, 8:0.
ll'is kin was for ane o’ a higher degree,
Said, What had he to do with the like of‘ me ‘?
Albeit I was bonny, I was na for Johnny :
And were na my heart licht I wad dee.
Albeit I was bonny, &c.
They said, I had neither cow nor calf,
Nor dribbles 0’ drink rins throw the dralf,
Nor pickles o’ meal rins throw the mill-ee:
And were na my heart licht I wad dce.
Nor pickles, &c.
His titty she was baith wylie and slee,
She spy’d me as I came o’er the lee;
And then she ran in and made a loud din:
Believe your ain een, an ye trew na me.
And then she ran in, Ike.
IIis bonnet stood aye in’ round on his brow ;
His auld ane look’d aye as weel as some’s new;
But now he lets’t wear ony gate it will hing,
And casts himself dowie upon the corn bing.
But now be, &:e.
l lRitson’s Scottish Songs, vol. i., p. 128, and Chambers’ Scottish
l Songs, vol. p. 321.
' 2 Scots Magazine, New Series, for 1818, pp. 35, 36.
l 3 Ibid., pp. 435, 430.


LADY BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD.
21b






From these lively specimens of Grisell’s lyric
compositions, as well as from the whole of the pre-
ceding narrativc, it is evident that, in addition to
her other good qualities, she was characterized by a
buoyant animation of spirit, combined with a guile-
lessness of soul, which gave a great charm to her
character, and made her universally beloved. In
her history, and, indeed, in that of all her family,
whose good humour and harmless pleasantry made
. their society so agreeable and so greatly courted,
we perceive how erroneously Presbytery and the
Covenant have often been represented as deadly
enemies to innocent hilarity, and our Presbyterian
ancestors as the personification of austerity and
moroseness.
To her eldest brother Patrick, who was nearest
her own age, and who was brought up with her,
Grisell was more strongly attached than to her other
brothers or sisters. He and George Baillie (the
son of Robert Baillie the martyr), her future hus-
band, who was deprived of his father’s estate, which
had been forfeited, and who was then in Holland,
having been also obliged to take refuge in exile,
served for some time as privates in the Prince of
Orange’s guards, till more honourable and lucrative
situations were provided for them in the army, which
was done before the Revolution. Grisell, who was
always very neat in her own dress, felt an honest
pride in seeing her brother neat and clean in his;
and it being the fashion, in those days, to wear little
point cravats and cuffs, she sat up many a night to
have them and his linens in as good order for him
as any in the place. His dress was, indeed, one of
the heaviest items in their expenses.
Patrick and his family, they were distinguished for
their kind-hearted hospitality. His house, as has been
said before, was much frequented by such of his coun-
trymen, as, like himself, had taken refuge from per-
secution in Holland. And seldom did the family sit
down to dinner, without having three, four, or five of
these refugees with them to partake of their humble
repast. But Providence so remarkably blessed them
in their basket and in their store, that they wanted
for nothing which they really needed. And virtue
being associated with adversity, they felt content-
ment and happiness; a state of mind which was
much promoted by their contrasting the comfortable ;
‘ (Zzzlce pcrz'culzmz.
Narrow and precarious as was the income of Sir ‘

retreat they had found on a foreign shore, with the i
suffering condition of many of their Presbyterian
friends at home.
Lady Murray, speaking of her mother, “I have
, , . . i
"Many a hundred times," says‘
I
i
heard her say, she could never look back upon their t
manner of living there without thinking it a miracle:
they had no want, but plenty of everything they
desired, and much contentment, and [she] always
declared it [to be] the most pleasant part of her
life; though they were not without their little dis-
tresses; but to them they were rather jokes than
grievances.” Sir Patrick being a scholar, the pro-
fessors and learned men of Utrecht were often
visitants at his house, and the best entertainment
he could give them was a glass of alabaster beer,
which was a kind of ale better than the common.
In exile, he continued to watch over the state
of affairs in Scotland, and discovered in William,
Prince of Orange, of whose talents and character
he entertained the highest admiration, the future
deliverer of his country. He had penetration
enough to see, that the object aimed at in James
VII.’s schemes of toleration for dissenters, was,
under the disguise of benefiting them, to afford
relief to Papists, and ultimately to pave the way
for the establishment of Popery. Accordingly, in
June 1668, he addressed. from Utrecht a well writ-
ten and powerfully reasoned letter, to his friend Sir
Il’illiam Denholm, who had been in Argyll’s expe-
dition, to be communicated. to the Presbyterian
ministers of Scotland, to put them on their guard
against an insidious plan which was in agitation, to
induce them to petition in favour of King James’s
deceptive measure for a toleration. “ All I shall
add,” says he in the close, “is to wish Protestants
to see to it not to be gulled by their enemies, not
to misjudge their friends, and to be ever ready to
do or to suffer, as God shall call them to it, for their
interests of so high moment: pro Clu'z'sto at putrid”
3, 1
At length the time of Britain’s deliverance drew
near. James VII. having, by his violent and in-
fatuated policy to establish arbitrary power and
I’opery in England, roused the indignation of the
English people, William, Prince of Orange, to save
the liberties of Britain, made preparations for invad-
ing it. Grisell’s father shared in the counsels of
IVilliam; and, along with his son Patrick and George
Baillie, accompanied him in his enterprise, when the
fleet was ready to sail. As was natural, she, and
the rest of the family, felt deeply interested in the
success of this undertaking. At first they were
afflicted with anxious and misgiving thoughts as to
the issue, when Il'illiam’s whole fleet was scattered
and driven back by a violent tempest. Having heard
of this melancholy news, she herself, her mother,
and her sister, “immediately came from Utrecht to
Helvoetsluys, to get what information they could.
1 The \larchmont Papers, vol. iii., p. 93.


THE LADIES OF 'l‘lll'l COVENANT.



The place was so crowded, by people from all
quarters, come for the same purpose, that her
mother, she, and her sister, were forced to lie in the
boat they came in; and, for three days continually,
to see coming floating in, beds, chests, horses, &c.,
that had been thrown overboard in their distress.
At the end of the third day, the Prince, and some
other ships came in; but no account of the ship
their friends were in. Their despair was great, but,
in a few days, was relieved by their coming in safe,
but with the loss of all their baggage, which, at
that time, was no small distress to them.”1 WVhen
the fleet, on the damage made being repaired, set
out again, the solicitude of Grisell, her mother, and
the rest of the family, for its success, was more
intense than ever. To hear of those embarked
having safely landed in England, was the greatest
joy they could picture to their minds. Of this they
had soon the satisfaction of hearing; but the joy
which such tidings, in ordinary circumstances, would
have given them, was swallowed up by the sorrow
into which they were plunged by the unexpected
loss of Grisell’s sister, Christian, who, on the very
day on which the welcome news reached them, died
suddenly of a sore throat, caught from her ex-
posure in the damp open boat at Helvoetsluys. To
Grisell, who was of strong and tender affections, the
loss of “ the sister of her heart” was a great atllic-
tion. “When that happy news came,” says Lady
ll/Iurray, “it was no more to my mother than any
occurrence she had not the least concern in; for
that very day her sister Christian died of a sore
throat; which was so heavy an affliction to both her
mother and her, that they had no feeling for anything
else; and,” adds Lady Murray, “ often have I heard
her say, she had no notion of any other cause of
sorrow but the death and affliction of those she
loved; and of that she was sensible to her last, in
the most tender manner. She had endured many
hardships, without being depressed by them; on the
contrary, her spirits and activity increased the more
she had occasion for them; but the death of her
friends was always a load too heavy for her.”
Happily, the Prince of Orange’s undertaking was
crowned with success. In England, all parties
rallied around him—a very merciful providence for
Scotland; which, wasted by a persecution of twenty-
eight years, was now lying under the iron wheel of




despotism, crushed in spirit, and more hopeless ofI
deliverance, in so far as her own intrinsic power
was concerned, than at any previous period of her
history. But England, in saving herself, saved

‘ Lad) Murray’s Xarrative.

__1"_______ __ . M __...___‘___,_-_

Scotland. When matters were all settled in Eng-
land, Grisell’s brothers and sisters were sent home
to Scotland, under the care of a friend; while she
herself, and her mother, came over with the Princess
of Orange to London. The Princess, now about to
ascend the British throne, attracted by the engaging
character, and the peculiarly prepossessing personal
appearance of Grrisell,l wished to retain her near her
person, as one of her maids of honour. But, though
this was a situation for which Grisell was well quali~
lied, and to which many of her age would have been
proud to have been elevated, she declined the ap-
pointment, preferring to go home with the rest- of
her family. The reader has already been informed
of the youthful attachment which sprung up between
her and George Baillie, within the walls of his
father’s prison; and, also, that Baillie was a refugee
in Holland, at the time when she and her father’s
family were resident in that country. In their exile,
their affection for each other increased, and they
had their marriage always in View; though, from
the ‘circumstances in which they were then placed,
neither of them having a. shilling, they deemed it
unwise to make known their intentions to her
parents, and were at no small pains to conceal their
mutual passion from them. In the midst of her
parents’ troubles, she had offers of marriage from
two gentlemen of fortune and good character, in her
own neighbourhood, in Scotland, who had done
nothing to incur the resentment of the government;
and her parents, thinking these to be favourable
opportunities for her comfortable settlement in life,
pressed her to marry one or other of these gentlemen.
“She earnestly rejected both, but without giving
any reason for it, though her parents suspected it;
and it was the only thing in which she ever displeased
or disobeyed them. These gentlemen were intimate
and sincere friends to Mr. Baillie and her to the day
of their death, and often said to them both, she had
made a much better choice in him; for they made
no secret of having made their addresses to her.
Her parents were ever fond of George Baillie, and
. he was always with them; so great an opinion had

they of him, that he was generally preferred to any
1 ller personal appearance is thus described by her daughter:—
“ She was middle sized, well made, clever in her person, very haml-
some, with a life and sweetness in her eyes very uncommon, and
great delicacy in all her features; her hair was chestnut; and, to
her last, had the finest complexion, with the clearest red in her
cheeks and lips that could be seen in one of fifteen, which, added
to her natural constitution, might be owing to the great moderation
she had in her diet, throughout her whole life.” Lady Murray adds.
“ l’ottage and milk was her greatest feast, and, by choice, she pre-
ferred them to everything, though nothing came wrong to her that
others could eat. Water she preferred to any liquor, and though
often obliged to take a glass of wine, she always did it unwillingly,
thinking it hurt her, and did not like it.”



LADY BAILLIEV or JERVISWOOD. 217



other, and trusted to go out with her, and take care
of her, when she had any business to do. They had
no‘ objection but the circumstances he was in; which
had no weight with her, for she always hoped things
would turn out at last as they really did; and, if
they did not, she was resolved not to marry at all.”
Having, after the Revolution, been put in possession
of his father’s estate, which had been gifted to the
Duke of Gordon, Baillie made known to her parents
the engagement between him and her; and they were
married at Redbraes Castle on September 17 , 1692.
At that time her father—his political and personal
troubles being new over—was in high favour with
King William, and was enjoying in security that
wealth and honour to which his sufferings in the
cause of religion and liberty‘ so well entitled him.1
The fruits of Grisell’s marriage with George Baillie
were a son, Robert, born January 23, 169i, who
died young; and two daughters, Grisell, who was
married August 26, 1710, to Sir Alexander Murray
of Stanhope, Bart, M.P., and died Without issue,
June 6, 17 59, aged sixty-seven; and Rachel, ‘born
February 23, 1696, married to Charles, Lord Binning
(eldest son of Thomas, sixth Earl of Haddington),
and mother of Thomas, seventh Earl of Haddington,
George Baillie of Jerviswood, and other children.2
Lady Grisell’s marriage with Mr. Baillie was un-
usually happy. She indeed proved to him, in the
words of the poet,
‘.‘ A guardian angel o’er his life presiding,
Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.”
Equally ardent and tender was his affection towards
her, in whom he found combined the qualities of
the “virtuous woman,” whom Solomon’s mother

10n the new order of things introduced at the Revolution, he
was nominated a member of the new privy council in Scotland,
and, in December 1690, was created a Scottish peer by the title of
Lord Polwarth. In 1692, he was appointed principal sheriff of
Berwickshire, and, in 1693, one of the four extraordinary lords of
session. In 1696, he was made lord chancellor of Scotland, the
highest office in that kingdom; in less than a year after, he was
created Earl of Marchmont; and, in 1698, he was appointed lord
high commissioner to represent the king’s person in the session of
Parliament, which met at Edinburgh in July that year. It is inter-
esting to know that, in prosperity, this nobleman did not forget
those who had befriended him in adversity. “There is a family
tradition which relates that, being obliged, in consequence of politi-
cal persecution, to quit Redbraes House and cross the country, a
little above Greenlaw, he met with a man of the name of Broomfield,
the miller of Greenlaw Mill, who was repairing a slap or breach in
the mill caul. Sir Patrick, addressing him by the occupation in
which he was engaged, said, ‘Slap, have you any money?’ upon
which Broomfield supplied him with what was considered neces-
sary for his present exigency. Sir Patrick, it is added, was obliged
to pass over into Holland; but when he came back with King Wil-
liam, did not- forget his former benefactor in need. It is not stated
what return he made him, but the family was settled in a free house
as long as they lived, and ever after retained the name of Slap.”—
New Statistical Account of Scotland
2 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. ii., p. 181.

so happily ‘describes, and whose “price is far above
rubies.” On her he left the sole charge of domestic
afi'airs, and even in reference to matters of graver im-
portance he placed great confidence in her judgment.
“ None could better judge,” says her daughter, “than
herself, what was most proper to be done upon any
occasion; of which my father was so convinced,
that I have good reason to believe he never did
anything of consequence through his whole life,
without asking her advice. She had a quickness
of apprehension and sagacity, that generally hit
upon the fittest things to be done.” Her daughter
adds, “Though she had a quick and ready wit, yet
she spoke little in company, but where she was
quite free and intimate. She used often to wonder
at a talent she met with in many, that could enter-
tain their company with numberless words, and yet
say nothing.”
In 1703, Lady Baillie lost her dear mother, who
died at Edinburgh, October 11, that year. On her
dying bed, her mother, who retained her judgment
to the last, was surrounded by all her children. At
this scene, Lady Baillie, in the agony of her grief,
had hid herself behind the curtain of the bed, so
that her mother, in looking round upon them all,
did not see her, upon" which she said, “Where is
Grisell?” Lady Baillie immediately came near her
mother, who, taking her by the hand, said, “My
dear Grisell, blessed be you above all, for a helpful
child have you been to me.” “I have often heard
my mother,” says Lady Murray, “tell this in
floods of tears, which she was always in, when she
spoke of her mother at a .” Great was the sorrow
of the Earl of Marchmont, and of the whole family,
on the death of this excellent wife and mother.
During life, she had experienced great variety in -
her outward condition. But, in every situation, she
was distinguished by unpretendiug piety and un-
spotted virtue, united with great sweetness, com-
posure, and equanimity of temper. So well dis-
ciplined had been her mind by adversity, that, when
exalted to wealth and honour, none of her acquaint-
ances, from the highest to the lowest, ever found
that these had created any change in the temper of
her mind. To her virtues and amiable qualities, her
husband has borne a very affecting testimony in an
inscription he wrote on her Bible, which he gave
to his daughter, Lady Baillie :—
“Grisell Lady Marchmont, her book. To Lady
GrisellHume, Lady Jerviswood, my beloved daughter.
My Heart, in remembrance of your mother, keep this
Bible, which is what she ordinarily made use of.
She had been happy of a religious and virtuous
2 n ‘



218
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



education, by the care of virtuous and religious
parents. She was of a middle stature, of a plump,
full body; a clear, ruddy complexion; a grave,
majestic countenance; a composed, steady, and
mild spirit; of a most firm and equal mind, never
elevated by prosperity, nor debased or daunted
by adversity. She was a wonderful stay and sup-
port to me in our exile and trouble, and a humble
and thankful partaker with me in our more pros-
perous condition; in both which, by the blessing
of God, she helped much to keep the balance of our
deportment even. She was constant and diligent in
the practice of religion and virtue, a careful observer
of worship to God, and of her duties to her husband,
her children, her friends, her neighbours, her tenants,
and her servants; so that it may justly be said, her
piety, probity, virtue, and prudence, were withouta
blot or stain, and beyond reproach. As, by the bles-
sing of God, she had lived well, so by his mercy, in the
time of her sickness and at her death, there appeared
many convincing evidences that the Lord took her
to the enjoyment of endless happiness and bliss.
She died, October 11, 1703, at Edinburgh, and was
buried in my burying place, near the Canongate
church, where I have caused mark out a grave for
myself close by hers, upon the left side, in the
middle of the ground. Mancnnon'r.”
From her tender years, Lady Baillie had been a
constant help and support to her father’s family;
and even after she became the mother of a family
herself, she was still useful to them in many respects.
From the time that her brother Alexander, Lord
Polwarth, went abroad in 1716—in consequence of
his appointn'ient, the year before, to be envoy extra-
ordinary to the courts of Denmark and Prussia-
and all the time he was at Copenhagen and Cambray,
she had the whole management of his affairs, and
the care of the education of his children. It may
also be mentioned, as an evidence of the care she
continued to take of her father, that, during the last
years of his life, which he passed at Berwick upon
Tweed, she went to Scotland every alternate year to
see him ; and the infirmities of old age unfitting him
for taking the trouble of looking after his own affairs,
she examined and settled his steward’s accounts,
which were often long and intricate. “Very unlike
too many married women,” says Joanna Baillie,
“who, in taking upon them the duties of a wife and
mother, suffer these to absorb every other; and visit
their father’s house seldom, and as a stranger, who
has nothing to do there but to be served and waited
upon. If misfortune or disease come upon their
parents, it is the single daughters only who seem to
i be concerned in all this. She who is a neglectful
‘daughter, is an attentive wife and mother from a
i mean cause.” ‘ When in London, Lady Baillie
regularly wrote every other post to her father, or to
her sister, Lady Julian, who then lived with him,
and watched over his declining years with affection-
ate care; sent him the newspapers, and any new
book or pamphlet which she thought would interest
him. Amidst the infirmities of old age, the good
man retained all the kindly cheerfulness of his
earlier days; and this made his society delightful to
the youngest of his descendants, the means both of
improvement and of enjoyment. To join the useful
with the agreeable in social intercourse, and, indeed,
in the whole business of life, was a principle upon
which he seems studiously to have acted; and hence
the device which is constantly found in his books
and manuscripts :-
“ ‘ Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulei.’ H.D.A.” 2
Even on his deathbed, he could not resist his old
propensity to joking. Sitting by his bedside, not
many hours before he expired,Lord Binning observed
him smiling, and said, “\Iy Lord, what are you
laughing at P” To which the dying Earl answered,
“I am diverted to think what a disappointment the
worms will meet with, when they come to me, ex-
pecting a good meal, and find nothing but bones.”
He was much emaciated in body, and, indeed, he
had always been a thin, clever man. None of his
family were then in Scotland, except his daughter,
Lady Julian, who attended him, and his son-in-law,
Lord Binning, who no sooner heard from Lady Julian
of her father’s illness, than he hastened to visit him,
and continued with him till his death. He expired
without a groan, and seemed to rejoice in the pro-
spect of his departure. Lady Baillie had not the
On hearing of his death,3 she was deeply affected,
though, from his advanced age, it was an event
which could hardly take her by surprise.
She met with another domestic affliction, which
she deeply felt, in the death of the amiable and
accomplished Lord Binning,4 the husband of her
daughter Rachel, in 1733. Having fallen into ill

I Metrical Legends of Exalted Characters, p. 270.
‘1 The three last letters are a contraction for Horace’s De Arte
Poetica. Sometimes he writes the quotation more briefly, thus .-—
“ ‘Omne tulit punctum.’ H.D.A.”
—-The M arehmont Papers.
3 He died in 1724, in the eighty-fourth year of his age.
4 Like Lady Baillie, Lord Binning possessed an elegant talent for
song writing. He was the author of Pastoral Ballads His ballad
beginning, “Did ever swain a nymph adore,” has long been well
knovnL—Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i., p. 684. Ritson’s Collection of
Scottish Songs, vol. i., p. 713.


satisfaction of seeing him under his last illness.‘

LADY BAILLIE OF JERVISWOOD.
219




health, he went to Italy, for the benefit of the
climate, and, having lived at Naples for some time,
he died there on January 30, that year, in the thirty-
sixth year of his age, having borne his sufferings
with the utmost patience, resignation, and even
cheerfulness and good humour. To this nobleman
she was as stronglyr attached as if he had been her
own child, and she and her whole family accompanied
him to Italy. They resided in Naples about sixteen
months.
On the death of Lord Binning, they went to
Oxford, for the education of his children,1 Thomas,
afterwards seventh Earl of Haddington, and his two
brothers. For Lord Binning’s children, Lady Baillie
had a strong affection. She was not without ambi-
tion of their rising to distinction in the world, “ and
omitted nothing she could devise to further them
this way; but yet, whenever she spoke about them,
the great thing she expressed herself with most
concern about was, that they might become virtuous i
:12
and religious men.
While resident in Oxford, she met with a trial, in
the death of Mr. Baillie, which, perhaps, inflicted a
heavier blow 011 her heart than any of the past
afliictions of her life. He died there on Sabbath,
August 6, 1738, after an illness of only forty-eight
hours, in the seventy-fifth year of his age. He had
lived an eminently pious and exemplaryr life, and his
latter end was peace. During the whole time of his
illness, he was employed in breathing out prayers to
his God and Saviour, for his own salvation, and that
of his family. He departed with a calm, serene
countenance, and with scarce a groan. His body
was sent home to be interred in his own burying
place at Mellerstain ; attended, according to his own
orders, which Lady Baillie was careful to have exe-
cuted, only by his near relations, near neighbours,
and his own tenants. Under this bcreaven'ient, it
was difiicult for her to bear up. From the peculiar
tenderness of her feelings, she was always extremely
susceptible to the emotions of sorrow on the loss of
friends. But when, in her old age, she was bereft
l
of the excellent companion to whom she had been
so long united, whom she called, “the best of hus-
bands, and delight of my life for forty-eight years 3”
and as to whom she often declared, “that they never
had a shadow of a quarrel or misunderstanding, no
not for a moment ;” it is not surprising that she was

1 He had “ committed and recommended to Mr. Baillie's care the
education of his children, and said he needed give no directions
about it, since he was to do it. What he wished most earnestly was
to have them good and honest men, which he knew would also be
Mr. Baillie’s chief care.”—L‘ad_v Murray’s Narrative.
2 Ibid.


almost overwhelmed by the stroke, and that hers
was a sorrow which could not altogether be assuaged
on this side of the grave. The account which Lady
Murray gives of her mother’s sorrow under this loss,
is very touching. “When she lost him, her affliction
was so great that it threw her into a dangerous fit of
illness, which, with joy, she would have allowed her-
self to sink under, had she not thought her life was
still necessary for the happiness of her family; as Sir
Alexander Murray then threatened, by long letters
writ to us, to give us a great deal of trouble and
disturbance, which could not well take place unless
he outlived her. She stayed near two years
! longer at Oxford, as long as it was thought fit for
‘her grandsons, though the most melancholy, dis~
agreeable, place she could be in, far from friends,
and no business to amuse, or take off her thoughts
from her heavy loss; so that the sedentary life she
led, which she had never been used to, again threw
her into a long and dangerous fit of illness, in which
her life was despaired of by every one.” And, after
stating that her mother and the whole family came,
in 17 40, to London, and thence immediately to Scot-
land, Lady Murray adds, “Everything at home so
continually renewed her grief, that scarce a day
passed without her bursting out in tears; though
she did her utmost to command herself, not to give
us pain, yet it often overcame her. One
day, looking round and admiring the beauties of the
place, she checked herself, burst out in tears, and
said, ‘What is all this to me, since your father does
not see and enjoy it!’ Such reflections she often
had, and neither amusements nor business could put
them out of her thoughts. As I almost always put
her to bed, I can declare I never saw her lie down
but with a deep groan, and generally tears, not soon
to be pacified; nor could she be persuaded to take
another room, choosing everything that could put
her in mind of him. She had some hundreds of his
letters, be having been often at London, absent from
her for many months at a time, and never missed
writing one single post. She had carefully preserved
them all, and set about reading of them; which put
her into such fits of grief and crying, quite sunk and
destroyed her, that we thought it would kill her.
She one day said she was ashamed to be alive, after
losing one that had writ her such letters, and with
whom she could have been contented to live, on the
top of a mountain, on bread and water; and had no
pleasure in anything but for his sake. Happy, said
she, had it been for her, if she had constantly read
over his letters, and governed her whole actions by
them. She intended sealing them up in a bag, and
bade me see they were buried in the coffin with her.




2:20
I‘HE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.

I begged to read some of them, which she allowed
me; and I earnestly entreated they might not be
buried, but preserved for the sake of his posterity,
and they are now in my custody. In nothing I ever
saw did I find so much to instruct, to admire, to
please; they are a true picture of his heart; full of
the most tender and condescending affection, just
remarks and reflections, true goodness, submission
to Providence, entire resignation and contentment,
without cant, superstition, severity, or uncharitable-
ness to others ; constant justness to all, and frugality
in his private affairs, for the sake of his family.”
In September, 1744:, it being thought proper that
her grandsons should go to London, she resolved
that she herself and her whole family should go
with them; her object being, as they were just
entering into the world, to watch over them and
aid them by her counsel and experience; though she
owned it to be her desire, as was most natural, to
end her days in quiet. At the same time she felt
persuaded that she should not return, and desired
her children, in the event of her dying there, to
bring home her body to be buried beside that of
her husband.
“The rebellion of 17445 was a great affliction to
her; the distress of her country and friends went
near her heart, and made great impression on her
health and spirits. Nobody could be more sensibly
touched with the desolation of this poor country;
yet she never expressed herself with bitterness nor
resentment against the authors of it, and could not
bear to hear others do so. She said it was the
judgment of God upon us, and too well deserved by
all ranks; therefore we ought to submit to it, and
endeavour to avert it by other methods than railing
and ill will at those that were the instruments of
it.” Her religion was eminently free from a censo-
rious and uncharitable spirit towards others. Lady
Murray, after stating that her mother “was much
devoted to piety and the service of God,” adds,
“ People who exercise themselves much this way, are
often observed to contract a morose way of thinking
concerning others, which she had no tincture of.
Her religion improved her in charity, and patience
for other people’s failings, and forgiveness of injuries;
and, no doubt, was one great source of that constant
cheerfulness she was so remarkable for.”
While in London, she seldom went abroad, except
to visit Lady Stanhope. But, in her own children
and grandchildren, she enjoyed the most agreeable
society at home; and she also found much pleasure
in the frequent visits paid to her by her old friends
and acquaintances, as well as by several new ones,
who thought no time better spent than in her com-
.d
i pany. At last the time drew near when she must
go the way of all the earth. An epidemical cold
E being prevalent in the English capital, she caught
i the disease, which, after hanging about her for some
time, terminated fatally. She was, however, con-
fined to her bed only a few days, and there was
no aberration of mind to the last. Two days
before her death, her family being all in the room
beside her, she said, “ My dears, read the last chap-
ter of the Proverbs; you know what it is.” “ To have
her grandsons happily married,” says Lady Murray,
“lay near her heart; and I imagine it was with
regard to that she said it. I think it is a very
strong picture of herself; and if ever any deserve
to have it said of them, she does.” Some may
imagine, that thoughts respecting the happy mar-
riage of her grandsons was scarcely exercise appro-
priate for a deathbed. But this would be to take
‘ a very imperfect and contracted view of the Chris-
1 tian exercise appropriate in such circmnstanees. No
i doubt, the great questions to every man and woman
‘ when about to enter eternity, and appear at God’s
judgment seat, are, “ Am I at peace with God?”
“ Have I obtained that renewed heart which is indis-
pensable to admission into heaven?” “Am I trusting,
not to my own good works or virtues, but exclusively
to the Divine righteousness of Christ; an interest
in which is equally indispensable to admission into
heaven?” But, while all true Christians will, in the
prospect of death, give their chief thoughts to these
subjects, they may, at the same time, in perfect
consistency with this, feel an interest in. whatever
contributes to the well-being, both temporal and
eternal, of their friends whom they are to leave
behind them in the world ; and to this a happy mar-
riage relation, which is greatly conducive both to
the promotion of virtue and piety, unquestionably
contributes. The next day, Lady Baillie called for
Lady Murray, to whom she gave directions about
some few things; and expressed it as her desire to
be carried home and interred beside her dear hus-
band; but said, that perhaps it might be too much
trouble and inconvenience to them at that season.
She therefore left it to Lady Murray to do as she
pleased; “but,” says she, “ in a black purse in my
cabinet you will find money sufficient to do it.”
This money she had kept by her for that purpose,
that whenever her death took place, her children
n'iight be able, without being straitcned, to carry
her mortal remains to Scotland, to be deposited in
the same resting place with those of her husband.
Having said this, she added, “I have now no more
to say or do ;” tenderly embraced Lady Murray, and
laid down her head upon the pillow, after which she







LADY BAILLIE or JERVISWOOD. 221



spoke little. True Christians, of strong and warm
affections, have often anticipated with delight the re-
cognition of their beloved pious friends and relatives
in heaven, expecting to derive, from this source, no
small portion of their future felicity. Lady Baillie
always expressed her assurance, that she and Mr.
Baillie, who had so long lived together on earth, as
heirs of the grace of life, would meet together and
know one another in a better world; and she often
said after his death, that without that belief she
could not have supported herself. This reflection
was cheering to her, even when dying. “ Now my
dear,” said she to Lady Murray, “ 1 can die in peace,
and desire nothing, but to be where your father is.”
She died on December 6, 1746, surrounded by her
whole family, who showed a lively sense of what
they lost when she breathed her last. According
to her desire, her body was conveyed from London
to Scotland; and, on Christmas day, December 25,
which was her birth day, was laid by the side of her
husband in the monument of Mellerstain. She was
buried in the same manner, in which, according to
his own orders, she herself had directed Iris funeral-
near relations, near neighbours, and her own tenants
only being present.
Lady Baillie had been universally respected while
living, and she died universally lamented. In her
death, many lost not only a friend, but a benefactor; i
for she was very charitable to the distressed; remem-
bering what she herself had suffered; nor was her
beneficence confined to those of her own way of
thinking.‘ The esteem in which she was held, was
testified by the many letters of condolence, which,
on the event, her family received from all quarters.
Lord Cornbury, writing to Lady Hervey on her
death, says, “Indeed, I am sorry that we shall see
our good old friend no more. I am sorry that we
shall partake no more in the society of that hospi-
tality, that benevolence, that good humour, that
good sense, that cheerful dignity, the result of so
many virtues which were so amiable in her, and
what did so much honour to humanity; and 1 am
very sorry for what those must suffer at present,
whom she had bred up to have affections, and who i
had so justly so much for her.” Lady Baillie, in
truth, possessed a combination of qualities not


i
l
l
l
l
l
l

1 “ The very last week of her life she sent a servant to Newgate
to inquire after one she heard was there in distress, and to give him
some relief, though she had never seen him, but knew his friends.” ‘
--Lady Murray’s Narrative.
often to be met with in the same person; and
which would have adorned the most exalted sta-
tion. “It appears to me,” says Joanna Baillie,
“that a more perfect female character could scarcely
be imagined; for, while she is daily exercised in all
that is useful, enlivening, and endearing, her wisdom
and courage, on every extraordinary and difficult
occasion, gave a full assurance to the mind, that the
devoted daughter of Sir Patrick Hume, and the
tender helpmate of Baillie, would have made a most
able and magnanimous queen.”l The inscription,
engraven on marble upon her monument, which was
written by one who knew her well, Sir Thomas
Burnet, one of the judges of the court of common
pleas, and youngest son of Bishop Burnet, summarily
records the leading and most singular events of her
life, and gives a full, comprehensive, and withal a
just view of her character. This inscription, with
which we shall conclude our sketch, is as follows :—
HERE LIETH
The Right Honourable LADY Gnrsnu, BAILLIE,
wife of Gnonen BAILLIE of Jerviswood, l'l; .,
eldest daughter
of the Right Honourable PATRICK, Earl of Marehmont;
a pattern to her sex, and an honour to her country.
She excelled in the character of a daughter, a wife, a mother.
While an infant,2
at the hazard of her own, she preserved her father’s life;
who, under the rigorous persecution of arbitrary power,
sought refuge in the close confinement of a tomb,
where he was nightly supplied with necessaries, conveyed by her,
with a caution far above her years,
a courage almost above her sex;
a real instance of the so much celebrated Roman charity.
She was a shining example of conjugal affection,
that knew no dissension, felt no decline,
during almost a fifty years’ union;
the dissolution of which she survived from duty, not choice.
Her conduct as a parent
was amiable, exemplary, successful,
to a degree not well to be evpressed,
without mixing the praises of the dead with those of the lIving;
who desire that all praise, but of her, should be silent.
At different times she managed the affairs
of her father, her husband, her family, her relations,
with unwearied application, with happy economy,
as distant from avarice as from prodigality.
Christian piety, love of her country,
zeal for her friends, compassion for her enemies,
cheerfulness of spirit, pleasantness of conversation,
dignity of mind,
good breeding, good humour, good sense,
were the daily ornaments of an useful life,
protracted by Providence to an uncommon length,
for the benefit of all who fell within the sphere of her benevolence
Full of years, and of good works,
she died on the 6th day of December 1746,
near the end of her Slst year,
and was buried on her birth day, the 25th of that month.
1 Metrical Legends of Exalted Characters, Preface, p. xxvi.
2 See page 208, Kote.





LADY CATHARINE HAMILTON, DUCHESS OF ATHOLL.

AMONG the “ devout and honourable women not a
few” in our country, who, in former times, adorned
a high station by their exalted piety and their zeal
for God, the subject of the present- notice is en-
titled to a prominent place. It is chiefly from her
Diaryl that we derive the information we possess
concerning her, and it is mostly a record of her
Christian exercise and experience; so that few in-
cidents in her history are now known. Her life,
indeed, appears to have been of a regular and little
varying tenor, hardly connected with any of those
signal events and eonjunctures which give to bio-
graphy much of its attraction; and a sketch of it
does not, therefore, admit of a varied and striking
narrative. But it may, notwithstanding, be interest-
ing and instructive to the serious reader, to peruse a
few illustrations of her eminently devout and Chris-
tian character. To those ladies who have already
engaged our attention, she was similar in spirit and
in sentiments; and she could look back to many
of her ancestors, on whom God had conferred the
highest of all nobility, the titles of which “ are not
written in old rotten or moulded parchments, but
are more ancient than the heavens.” She com-
menced her Diary about the year 1688, in the
twenty-fifth year of her age, and continued it down
to the period of her death. From the commence-
ment it displays remarkably sound views of evan-
gelical truth, and much maturity of religious experi-
ence; and throughout, it breathes a spirit singularly
amiable, and fervently pious. As many parts of it
are very much alike, instead of giving it entire, it
will be suffioient to select a few passages as a re-
presentation of the general character of the whole.
Carr-maine HAMILTON was the second daughter
of WVilliam, third Duke of Hamilton, and Anne
Duchess of Hamilton, of whom a notice has already
been given. She was born at Hamilton Palace in
1662, and in 1683 was married to John Lord
Murray, eldest son of the first Marquis of Atholl,
afterwards first Duke of Atholl, in the twenty-first
year of her age. She enjoyed the great blessing of an
eminently pious mother, who anxiously endeavoured
to imbue her young mind with Divine truth and


the fear of God. Under this religious training she
greatly profited; and she appears to have been from
her earliest years of a serious and contemplative
turn of mind. At an early period she had acquired
an extensive acquaintance with the Scriptures, and
an accurate knowledge of the distinguishing truths
of the gospel. Nor did this knowledge merely
float in the head; it deeply impressed her heart,
resulting in early proofs of her genuine piety.
Near the beginning of her Diary there is the fol-
lowing entry:——“ 0 my soul‘. remember Friday the
18th of November 1681, and Thursday the Qéth,
wherein the Lord thy God was pleased to give
thee sweetest consolation in himself, and some
assurance of his reconciled countenance at Hamil-
ton.” This was in the nineteenth year of her age,
two years previous to her marriage. But her
husband, in a note on this passage, states that he
had heard her say, that she had given herself up
to God some years before the time referred to.
Thus, ere she had reached womanhood, she had
surrendered herself to God, and the whole of her
subsequent life evinced the entireness and the
sincerity with which the surrender had been made.
Christ she then chose as her Saviour, God as her
portion, the Divine glory as her chief end, the
Divine law as her infallible guide; and from her
God and Saviour, she sought and found grace and
strength to proceed in the Christian course. It
is indeed interesting to see a young lady in exalted
station thus escaping the fascinations of worldly
pleasure and gaiety, with which the young are so
apt to be entangled, and making the concerns of
the soul and of eternity, which the young are so
prone to defer to a future season, the chief object
of her attention.
“ Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn’d the broad way and the green.
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth,
Chosen thou hast.”
In her Diary the allusions to the period of the
persecution are few and only casual, but they plainly
indicate her detestation of the ferocious intolerance
of that period, and her sympathy with those good

1 Her Diary is printed in the Christian B'I-agazine for 1813, to
which it was communicated by the late Rev. Mr. Moncriefi', minister
of the Secession Church in Hamilton
1 Milton.


DUCHESS OF ATHOLL.
223


men who, for standing up in defence of their reli-
gious rights and liberties, were banished to foreign
climes, or pined in dungeons, or whose blood was
shed on scaffolds. Speaking of the forfeiture of
the estate of the Earl of Argyll, which took place
in the close of the year 1681, and of the Marquis
of Atholl, who raised and headed some of the troops
which were afterwards led against the Earl, having
accepted and retained some of his forfeited lands,
she says, “I was always convinced that it was a
most unjust forfeiture that of the late Earl of
Argyll, and so was grieved that my husband’s
father should have any part of it given to him.” At
the same time she records with much satisfaction,
that her husband had no hand in the oppression
of the Argyll family, and would never consent to
share in the spoils. “ My husband,” says she,
“had no part in it [the forfeited estate], and did
at the time disapprove of his father’s meddling
with it, and would never, though he pressed him to
it, take anything of it.”
After the persecution had closed, she took a deep
interest in the prosperity of the Presbyterian church;
and knowing that the gospel is “the power of God
unto salvation,” she was particularly concerned
that the parishes of Scotland should be supplied
with devoted evangelical ministers. Lay patronage
having been abolished at the Revolution, her hus-
band had not the power of presenting ministers to
vacant parishes; but as the heritors of each parish,
being Protestants, and the elders, were. to propose
a suitable person to the congregation, to be either
approved or disapproved by them,‘ heritors and
elders, it is obvious, had great influence in the
settlement of ministers; and she was extremely
desirous that her husband should use this influence
in procuring the settlement of pious and able gospel
ministers. To prevail on him to do this, her prayers
and counsel were not wanting; and, by the blessing

of God, they had the desired effect. IVriting at
Falkland, May 9, 1691, in reference to the settle-
ment of a minister in that place, she says, “ O Lord,
help me always to remember thy goodness to me. i
Thou hast many times prevented me with thy
mercies, and disappointed my fears; and now again,
lately, I have had another proof of it. Thou only
knowest what a burden it was to me, the fear I
was in that my husband should have obstructed a
good minister being settled in this place ; and now,
glory to God that has given me to see him the main,
nay, I may say the only instrument of bringing a


‘The reasons of the congregation, if they disapproved of the
person proposed, were to be laid before the Presbytery, which was 5
to judge of them.
i
l
godly minister, the Rev. Mr. John Forrest, to this
place. O Lord, grant he may in the first place
reap the benefit of his ministry to himself, and bless
it in a special manner to him, that he, finding’ the
good of it, may yet be more instrumental in bringing
in good ministers to the places he has interest in.”
Falkland at that time was a very irreligious and
profane place. During the persecution, though
there were in it a few intelligent and pious persons,
who refused to conform to prelacy, and to whom
Mr. John 1Velwood and other proscribed ministers
‘frequently preached privately, in some of their
'houses, yet the great body of the population had
no scruples in conforming to prelacy; so that when
the curate of the parish dispensed the sacrament
of the Lord’s Supper, a great multitude assembled,
and he could boast, what many of his brethren
could not do, of the large number on his communi-
cants’ roll.‘ In this place where “Satan had his
seat in much peace,” 2 where ignorance and pro-
fanity so greatly abounded, it could not be expected
that the people would set much value upon the
gospel, or that they would feel anything like a
general desire for the settlement of an evangelical
and devoted minister among them. It was, there-
fore, a very merciful providence that others, who
‘ better understood and appreciated the worth of an
efficient gospel ministry, successfully exerted them-
selves in procuring for them this great blessing.
At this time, the subject of our notice was re-
siding at Falkland Palace, which was a favourite
retreat of James VI, probably on account of his
attachment to hunting, for which the adjacent
forest afforded excellent opportunities, but which,
after his succession to the crown of England, ceased
to be a royal residence, though it was visited by
Charles I. and Charles II. In 1658, it fell into
the hands of the Atholl family. From the entries
in her Diary, Lady Murray appears residing there
from January 1689, till May 1691.
During this period her husband was threatened
‘with a consumption, and his health continued for
more than a year in a very precarious state. This
caused her deep anxiety; and her reflections in re-
gard to his condition, evince the struggle she felt
between natural affection and submission to the
will of God. Writing at Cupar, Sabbath, May 17,
1691, after adverting to his illness, she adds, “ Thou
knowest that I have this day promised, if thou wilt
be pleased to spare and recover him, to endeavour,
through thy strength, to live more watchfully and
holily; but, ah! Lord, how unable am I for any

1 of Jean Collace, \Vodruw srss, vol. may, sit-0,110.7.
- Ibitl.


2241
THE LADIES OF THE COVENANT.



thing that is good, if thou assist me not. True is
thy word which thou hast said, holy Jesus! that
without thee we can do nothing, John xv. 5. But
I shall be able to do all things, even the hardest,
if thou assist. Therefore, this day, with all my soul
I beg of thee, that thou wilt give me entire sub-
mission to thy holy will and pleasure, whatever it
shall be: That even if thou shouldst see fit to take
away the desire of mine eyes, I may lay my hand
on my mouth and be silent, since it is thy doing,
who canst do nothing wrong. And be with me in
the midst of my troubles, and support me under
them, as thou hast been graciously pleased to do
this time and heretofore, for which I desire, from
the bottom of my soul, to bless and magnify thy
name, who canst abundantly make up the loss of all
earthly comforts. Be then then in place of all
unto me, blessed Jesus! and let never any idol be
in my heart, where thou oughtest to be in the chief
room. But thou hast not only allowed of a lawful
love to my husband, but commanded me to have it.
Therefore it is lawful, and my duty, to pray for
him. Spare him, O Lord! for Christ’s sake, and
bless him with long life in this world, that he may
glorify thee in his generation, and be an instrument
of doing good to the people among whom thou hast
set him, and be a blessing to his family. 0 God,
hear me! and grant unto me, for Christ’s sake, O
grant, that the shaking of this red over my head
may be a mean to bring me back to my duty, which
it will be, if thou grant thy blessing with it, which
I beg for thy Son’s sake, for whose sake alone I
desire to be heard.” .
She afterwards records her gratitude to God for
her husband’s recovery to health.
Having resolved, in the summer of 1697, to go
to Hamilton to visit her mother, and to enjoy the
sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, which was to be
celebrated there on the 19th of July, she spent the
Sabbath preceding at Edinburgh, where her husband,
now Earl of Tullibardine,l then was. She was care-
ful, at all times, to sanctify the Lord’s day, but this
being the Sabbath preceding that on which she
purposed to commemorate the Lord’s death in the
sacrament of the Supper, she endeavoured, in a
particular manner, by meditation and prayer, to have
her mind brought into a suitable frame for the
solemn service which she had in prospect. “Edin-
burgh, Sunday, July 12, 1697.——O my soul, bless
God the Lord, that ever he put it into thy heart to
seek him, for he hath promised that those that seek
him shall find him. This day I was reading the six-

1He'was created Earl of Tullibardine, Viscount Glen Almond,
and Lord Murray, for life, July 27, 1696.
teenth chapter of John, verses 23, 24, ‘ Verily, verily,
I say unto you, whatsoever ye shall ask the Father
in my name, he will give it you,’ &c. O gracious
promises! Then I began to think what it was I
would ask of God. The thought that immediately
occurred to me was, Jesus Christ to dwell in my
heart by faith and love. Methought, that if God
would put it in my offer to have all the universe,
with all the glory, honour, riches, and splendour of
it, I would rather have Christ to be my King, Priest,
and Prophet, than have it all. O that he would
always rule in me, and conquer all his and my
enemies—my corruptions, temptations, and sins, I
mean—and always assist and strengthen me to
serve him faithfully and uprightly. Now, blessed
Jesus, thou who hast said, ‘ I/Vhatsoever we ask in
thy name, the Father will give it ;’ this is my
petition, and my request—fulfil thy word to me.
Thou art faithful that hast promised; therefore I
desire to believe and trust that thou wilt perform.
O never forsake me, nor leave me to myself. Lord,
I do believe and hope that thou wilt, through the
riches of free grace, and thy meritorious satisfac-
tion, redeem and save me from eternal death and
damnation; but I beg not only so, but to be re-
deemed from the power of sin, corruption, and vain
imaginations. Oh! they are strong and stirring.
O wilt then not subdue them! Lord, I desire to
obey thee, and to be of good cheer, and believe that,
as thou hast overcome the world, so then wilt over-
come my sins, in thy own due and appointed time.
And now, Lord, thou knowest I am designing, if
thou shalt permit, to partake of thy holy Supper.
O! prepare me for it, and let me not be an unworthy
receiver. Do thou z‘lzere meet with my soul, and
renew thy covenant and faithfulness unto me, and
enlarge my heart and soul, and give me supplies of
grace and strength to serve thee. Oh i I have often
played the harlot, and gone astray with many lovers,
J er. iii. 1. Yet thou sayest, Return again unto me,
and often, as in this chapter, invitest me to return.
0 Lord, I come unto thee, for thou art the Lord,
my covenanted God. Thou knowest that, this day,
I know not of any fraud or guile in this declaration.
If there be, Lord, search me, and try me, and dis-
cover it unto me, and take it away, and cleanse me,
from all mine iniquities. 0 let this be my mercy
this day.”
By the observance of the Lord’s Supper at this
time she was much refreshed and comforted. On
the Wednesday after, she solemnly calls upon her
‘ soul not to forget to render to God thanksgiving
i and praise, for having dealt so bountifully and mer-
j cifully with her. “ Thou hast been pleased,” she



nucnnss or ATHOLL. 225




says, “to give me at this time, what then wast
graciously pleased to do, the two last times I com-
munieated, namely, a promise in Scripture, which
thou madest me formerly believe in, and rest quietly
upon, which was the 16th verse of the fifteenth chap-
ter of John: ‘ I have chosen you, and ordained you,
that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that
your fruit should remain; that whatsoever ye shall
ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.’
...A little before going to thy table, thou knowest
what darkness and confusedness I had, though still,
blessed, blessed be thy holy name! there remained
the hope and confidence of thy being reconciled to
me through the blood of the Lamb, represented to
me at thy table, as shed for my sins; but thou wast
most graciously pleased before I went to thy table,
to make me go there with solid peace and satisfac-
tion, firmly believing that thou calledst me, and
that I had a right to go there. Also when I was
at thy table, it was said by thy minister—I doubt
not by thy guiding and directing Spirit-W hat is
your request, and what is your petition? Then it
occurred again unto me what I had done before,
when reading the 23d and 24th. verses of the six-
teenth of John, to entreat Jesus Christ to dwell in
my heart by faith, and never to leave me, nor forsake
me; and there [at the Lord’s table] I did, thou
knowest, O Lord, with the sincerity of my soul,
accept of the Lord as my covenanted God, and
did most earnestly entreat the assistance of thy
Holy Spirit and strength to be with me for ever,
that I may never go out of thy way, but be helped
to live uprightly and holily all the days of my ap-
pointed time.”
Hamilton was a place endeared to her by many
sacred as well as tender recollections. Not only
was it her birthplace, the dwelling-place of her in-
fancy, and her parental residence; but God there
first visited her soul in mercy—-an event the most
important in her history, when viewed in the light
of eternity. In after life she looked back to this
period with feelings of the deepest gratitude to
God; and Hamilton was to her ever after a conse-
crated spot. “This was the place,” says she, after
recording her experience of the goodness of God to
her on that sacramental occasion, “ where thou first
lookedst upon me in mercy, and saidst unto me, when
I was in my blood, Live, about sixteen or seven-
teen years ago. But, Oh l” she adds, “ I have been
often a transgressor and revolter since; but thou
wast faithful, and didst not break thy covenant with
me, nor alter the thing that had gone out of thy
mouth, Psal. lxxxix. 3%, but rather performedst thy
promise, verses 31, 3'2, ‘ That if I should break thy

statutes, and keep not thy covenant, thou wouldest
visit my transgressions with the rod, and mine ini-
quities with stripes, but thy lovingkindness thou
wouldest never take away from me, nor suffer thy
faithfulness to fail.’ Blessed be thy holy name,
thou art the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever-
more, on which I rest. Amen, Amen.”
In the beginning of September 1697, she and her
husband left Edinburgh for London. On Sabbath,
September 5th, they rested at Alnwick, the seat of
the Duke of Northumberland; and, on Saturday,
the 18th of that month, they arrived at Kensington,
where they remained the greater part of a year.
During the time of her residence at Kensington,
though, from her living at court, her obstacles to
retirement and meditation were increased, there is
ample evidence from her Diary that much of her
time was spent in reading the Scriptures, in spiritual
meditation, in self-examination, and prayer.
At the commencement of a new year it was
her practice, in a particular manner, to review her
past life; to take an account of the manner in which
she had spent the year that was gone, never to be
recalled; to mark the rapidity with which she was
advancing in the journey of life, and to embrace God
anew, as her God for time and for eternity. ()u
the first day of the year 1698, when in the thirty-
sixth year of her age, she thus writes :—“I have
this day renewed again my covenant with my God,
though in great weakness, yet, I hope, in sincerity.
I have given up myself, soul and body, to be at his
disposal, as he sees meet. 0 that he would be
pleased to give me new strength to serve him in
newness of life this new year, and that as days are
added to my natural life, so grace may he added to
my spiritual. O that with the old year, which will
never return again, I may have left off my old, sin~
ful, crooked, and worldly ways, and never return to
them again. Lord, thou who searchest the heart,
and triest the reins, knowest that this is more the
desire of my soul than all gold or silver, or honours
or pleasures upon this earth. Therefore, 0 deny
me not the earnest request of my soul this day, and
fulfil that scripture thou broughtest to my mind this
morning in prayer, ‘I will never leave thee, nor
forsake thee,’ Heb. xiii. 5.”
On the first day of a subsequent year, 1699, which
was Sabbath, she thus writes at Huntingtower :—
"' This day I have been reflecting how I have spent
the last year, and alas l I find great cause to mourn,
for I have been very earthly-minded and carnal, and,
with Martha, cumbered about many things, and
have much neglected the one thing needful. Lord,
pardon me, for Jesus Christ’s sake; I desire to




2 r
THE LADIES OI“ THE COVENANT.




repent and be humble. O that thou mayest help
me to spend this year better, if thou sparest me. ;
But I find all my resolutions ineffectual un‘ess thou
assist me: but if thou wilt put to thy helping hand,
and give me the lively influences of thy Holy Spirit,
duties will not only be easy but pleasant to me. I
have been endeavouring, though, alas! in much
deadness and weakness, to renew my covenant with
thee; and this day I desire to confirm all that I
have ever done before, to resign myself and all that
is mine to thee. Holy Lord, accept of me, and give
me sincerity and truth, and say thou that thou
acceptest of me.”
Huntingtowcr (formerly called Ruthven Castle),
at which these reflections were written, was another ‘
place where she and her husband sometimes resided.

i ' it 1', N
~ tilii '~
i "V Ip]! ’
I i‘lilil'l'
Ii " "I
.\ 3 iii
i: _ ii. i
q‘i -;! 1i»;
Huntingtower Castle.

This Castle, which is in the parish of Tibbermuir, is
a very ancient building, though it does not appear ‘
ever to have been a place of great strength. It was
formerly the seat of the Gowrie family, and the
place where James VI. was some time confined by
the Earl of Gowrie and others in the enterprise
usually called the Raid of Rut/wen; but the Castle,
with the adjoining barony, became the property of
the Atholl family, by a marriage with the Tullibardine
family, who had received it from James VI., after
the Earl of Gowrie had lost it in consequence of his
conspiracy. It is now the seat of a calico-printing
establishment.
To the spiritual welfare of her children Lady
'I‘ullibardine’s pious emotions, wishes, and prayers
were, in an especial manner, directed. When, in
May 1698, the Earl went to Oxford with their eldest
son John, purposing to leave him there at school,
should it be found a suitable place for carrying on ]
his education, she records her earnest desire not
only that her son might be accomplished in every
kind of secular learning, but that, as God had dis-
tinguished him by a high birth in this world, he
would also confer upon him the higher distinction
of being holy in character, and a promoter of true
godliness. “I could not remember,” she adds, “that
I had dedicated him in the womb so much to God
as I had done the rest; but this day [Sabbatln
May 22] I have resigned him, and all the rest of my
children, wholly to be the Lord’s. O accept of the
gift, so far as they are mine to give; they are thine
by creation, 0 let them be thine by adoption, re-
generation, sanctilication, and redemption. Fulfil
to me, O Lord, the 127th and 128th Psalms, that
my children may be thy heritage, and the fruit of
my womb thy reward; that thus I may be blessed
out of Zion, that thus I may be blessed of those that
desire to fear thy name, and that I may see the good
of thy Jerusalem, and peace upon thy Israel. And,
C forget not my absent husband, the father of these
children, whom I have given up unto thee, and
make him say Amen to the bargain; and be thou
his God, and my God, and the God of our seed, from
henceforth from this day and for ever. Amen. And
to thee, holy Father, blessed Redeemer, and sanctify-
ing Spirit, be the glory and praise of all.”
In June this year she returned to Scotland with
the Earl, who went north to attend the Scottish
Parliament;1 and during their stay at Edinburgh,
their lodgings were in the Abbey. They next went
to Huntingtower; and from the dates in her Diary
she appears residing there from November 1698
to May 1701.
From her Diary we are at no loss to discover
her warm attachment to the Presbyterian church of
Scotland. But while espousing from conviction the
Presbyterian cause, she held her principles in a
spirit of charity and frn'bearance. Here was not a
religion which would deny the validity of a Divine
ordinance, because not administered in the way she
judged most agreeable to the l/Vord of God, or which
would deny the Christianity of all who did not
belong to the church of which she was a member.
So high were the Scottish Episcopalians of that
day on the doctrine of episcopal succession, as to
deny that Presbyterian ministers were lawful minis-
ters; maintaining that without episcopal government
there could be no regular ordination of ministers,
‘ and consequently holding that all the services of the
Presbyterian ministers as such were so many irre-
gular nullities. Even some of the more wild among
1 Carstairs’ State Papers, p. 38L



DUCHESS OF ATHOLL.
227




them went so far as to declare, that those who were
not of the communion of the Church of England
were in a state of damnation, and left to the un-
covenanted mercy of Grod.l But these opinions the
Duchess justly regarded as extreme and untenable,
and the remarks she makes on them, while indicating
her entire want of sympathy with such extravagant
sectarianism, and her regret that it should be
obtruded on the church, to create division and
offence, are yet marked by great mildness of tem-
per. “Dunkeld, April 4, 1706.-—I was this day
reflecting upon the sad divisions of this church;
and now it is become a doctrine preached up by
the Episcopalians, that the Presbyterians are not
lawful ministers, and that what they do is not valid,
so that those they baptize are not baptized; and
that the people owe them no obedience in their
ministerial authority. I was made to think it was
matter of great lamentation, and presaged very sad

things to this nation, and the more that it was so .
little laid to heart, and that there is so great‘
neglect, to say no worse, of the gospel which is,
preached so powerfully amongst us.”
The Duchess was seized with her last illness at
Hamilton Palace, whither she had gone on a visit
to her mother, about the close of the year 1706,
and she died there in January 1707, in the forty-
fifth year of her age. Her husband, to his great
grief, was absent during the closing scene, having
been attending the last Parliament of Scotland, at
Edinburgh, and not having been apprised of her
dangerous condition in sufficient time to be able to
reach Hamilton, to see her in life, the symptoms
not having assumed a decidedly alarming aspect till
shortly before her death. But by her mother, the
Duchess of Hamilton, and other sympathizing
friends, she was waited upon with all manner of
affectionate tenderness and care. To the last she;
retained the full possession of her faculties, and as 2
her life had been eminently holy, so her latter end ’
was peace. She had long been under the training .

of her heavenly Father, and now she maintained a :
present of her dangerous situation. This was on
the 9th of January, a little before ten o’clock at
night. Mr. Findlater, one of the ministers of the
parish of Hamilton, being immediately sent for, to
administer to her religious comfort, and to pray
with her, hastened to the Palace; and, at the re-
quest of the Duke of Atholl, he wrote a short
account of the circumstances attending her death.
IVhen he came into the room, an attendant told
her that Mr. F indlater was present, to whom, being
in a state of great prostration, she answered, “ Tell
him I cannot speak; desire him to pray.” After
prayer he spoke to her a few words encouraging
her against the terror of death, from the nature of
God’s covenant with her, and her interest in it.
She then regretted her want of strength to speak,
that she might show what interest she had in the
covenant, and what God had done for her soul.
She owned that she had frequently renewed her
covenant with God, and given her consent to it,
and that now this was her greatest comfort. Her
want of strength to declare to those about her, so
fully as she desired, her experience of the goodness
of God, and her calm and brightening hope of end-
less felicity, was indeed her greatest grief. This
she regretted not only to Mr. Findlater, but also to
her nurse who attended her, to whom she called
frequently a little before her death, “O pray, pray
that I may have a little case, that I may declare
God’s goodness to me.” Having withdrawn for a
short time to the next room, Mr. Findlater returned
to her chamber, and, thinking she had become more
oppressed, asked her how it was with her. She
answered, “Very weak—and dying.” But she
knew in whom she had believed, and seemed to
comfort herself with these words, which the mini-
ster quoted, and which she repeated after him,
“My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.”
She then desired him to pray. He asked her
what he should pray for to her; what was that
one thing she would seek from the Lord, above
tranquil resignation to his sovereign will. Her con- l all things, “ Pray,” said she, “but for as much
fidence as a guilty sinner—for such she felt herself
to be—in the great propitiation, and in God’s ever’
lasting covenant, remained unshaken throughout
the mortal conflict, producing the sure anticipation of future blessedness, and enabling her to triumph ,
over all the terrors of the last enemy.
Not much more than two hours before her death, ,

strength as that I may declare the goodness of
God to me;” straining herself apparently, and
speaking with a more elevated voice than formerly.
He asked her whether she desired to live, or to die
and be with Christ, which was best of all. She
said, “ T/zat is best of all indeed.” In time of
prayer he heard her repeat some words of Scripture


the medical gentleman who attended her, findingj after him; particularly when mention was made of
the vital powers fast sinking, informed her friends i the covenant being ordered in all things, and sure,
1 Wodrow’s Correspondence, vol. i. pp. 202, 400
she said, “TM! is all my salvation and all my
desire ;” “ which,” says Mr. Findlater, “ were the


228
THE COVENANT.
TH E LADIES OF


last words she spoke in my hearing. Though her ‘
body was greatly pained,” he adds, “yet her soul
seemed full of the joy of the Lord, which is un- .
speakable and full of glory.” He again left her.
chamber a second time. During his absence, her ‘
mother, seeing her weak, asked her if she had any-
thing to say to her. She answered—~and the answer
shows how unabated affection for dear surviving
earthly friends may mingle with the calm resigna-
tion that bids farewell to life, and with the joy
arising from the certain prospect of everlasting
blessedness—“Dear mother, be kind to my Lord,”
which were the last words she spoke, as the Duke
feelingly records. IV hen Mr. Findlater came into
her room the third time, she could speak none, and
in a moment or two after he had again prayed with
her, she fell asleep in Christ, about a quarter of an
hour after twelve o’clock at night.
The Duke of Atholl was much affected by the
death ofhis beloved wife, of whose great worth he
was deeply sensible, and it enhanced his sorrow that
he enjoyed not the melancholy satisfaction of seeing
her on her deathbed. At the close of her Diary
he thus records the mournful dispensation: “It
hath pleased the great and only wise God, who
doeth what he sees fit in heaven and in earth, to
take from me, to himself, my dear wife, Catharine,
Duchess of Atholl, and in her my chiefest earthly
comfort. She died at Hamilton between the ninth
and tenth of January 1707, between twelve and
one o’clock, Friday morning. I was at that time in
Edinburgh, attending the last Parliament of Scot-
land, and was not timeously advertised of her dan-
gerous condition, so that I wanted the satisfaction
of being with her in her last hours, which was an
extraordinary great addition to my irreparable loss.
Mr. Findlater, minister of Hamilton, was sent for
but two hours before her death, till which time the
doctor that was with her did not declare she was
in any danger. I desired Mr. Findlater to put in
writing what she had said concerning the state of
her soul; which shows that she died in the same

holy disposition and frame in which she had lived.” .,
As the Duke highly esteemed and loved the!
Duchess while she lived, so he continued to cherish
her memory after she was gone. From several
parts of her Diary, there is reason to believe that i
he was not neglectful of the most important inter-
ests, and that his religious impressions were very
much owing to her prayers, counsel, and example.
He greatly valued the memorials of her Christian \

experience and exercise contained in her Diary,
which she expressly left as a dying legacy to him, in
the hope that he might profit by it; and the solemn
and affectionate thought of her virtues and graces,
now when she had entered eternity, enforced with
new power the motives to religion. He now seemed,
as it were, to hear her in that document, speaking
to him from the eternal world, bidding him make
the salvation of the soul the one thing needful, and
follow in the path which had conducted her to im-
mortal happiness. Even ten years subsequently
to her death, he employed himself in transcribing a
copy from the original, written with her own hand,
prefixing to the copy the following notice: “This
book,‘with some other papers written by my dear
wife, were left by her to me just before her death.
She recommended them to me by a paper she
caused me to write at that time, calling them her
treasure, which she desired I might make good
use of.——Dunkeld, March 1717. ATHoLL.”
In politics the Duke was shifting, but be con-
tinued to ,his death warmly attached to the govern-
ment and worship of the Church of Scotland. “ He
was a most zealous Presbyterian,” says Douglas;
“ and, after he joined the cavaliers, still courted and
preserved his interest with the Presbyterian mini-
sters, professing always to be firm to their kirk-
government, hearing them always in their churches,
and patronising them much more than those of the
Episcopal persuasion, which induced many of the
Tories to doubt his sincerity.”l His continuing
to adhere steadily to the Presbyterian church, after
joining the cavaliers, was so inconsistent, that it
could hardly fail of rendering him an object of
distrust to the party which he joined. But the
inconsistency is easily explained, when we take
into account that he was probably not a stranger
to true religion. Circumstances prevailed in making
him desert the Whigs, among whom he very likely
saw not a little of the selfishness, corruption, and
want of principle, which have often disgraced poli—
ticians of all classes; but the religious element
kept him close to the Church of Scotland, to which
almost all the piety of Scotland was at that time
confined. In the former case, he may be said to
‘have acted according to early educational influence;
in the latter, according to the happier influence
which his Duchess had exerted upon him while
‘she lived, and which her memory continued to

exercise upon him after her death.
1 Douglas’s Peerage, vol. i. p. 150.






APPENDIX.
No. I.-(p. 12.)
Letter of Mr. Robert )1‘ Ward to Lady Arclross.
[This letter, which is in vol. lx. folio, no. 31_of the
\Vodrow MSS., is in M‘IVard’s handwriting, and he
describes it, “A double of a line to the Lady Ardross
when l was in prison, and she was to leave the town.”]
“ Wonrnv Manna—All that I can do (neither can I
do that to purpose) is only to acknowledge a debt to
your Ladyship, which I am not able to pay; but I know
you were pleased upon such an account to concern and
interest yourself in that business, as, when I cannot
requite it, He who takes notice of less, and will not
suffer a cup of cold water to want its reward, will re-
member this your labour of love, and make it a fruit
which shall abound to your account. I hope, Madam,
however your affairs have, by calling you hence, de-
prived your Ladyship of the occasion, and me of the
advantage of your interceding with men in my behalf,
yet ye will not forget to deal with God in my behalf,
that now, when it comes to the swellings of Jordan, I
may not sink nor succumb, and desert a cause upon
which [I] am obliged not only to venture my life, but
some way soul also, which is by sealing that poor testi-
mony with my blood, if he call me to it, though he
should suffer me to die in the dark, and never say to my
soul he could save me.”
No. lI.--(p. 36.)
The illarchioness of Argg/ll's interview with Mid-
dleton, after the condemnation of her husband.
in another part of his Analecta (vol. i. p.73), \Vodrow
records a few additional facts in reference to this inter-
view. “ Dec. 6, 1705.-As to what goes before Nov. 11,
Mr. Robert Muir gives the very same account, that he had
from Mr. James Drummond, the Lady Argyll’s chaplain,
with this variation, that the king told Middleton while
yet a gentleman at Breda, that he behoved, when he
went over to England (it was a very little before his
restoration), he behoved to be his commissioner in Scott-
land, [to] get these three things done. And he told
him this would anger the nobility, and refused, till for
three days the king looked down on him; and when he
asked him the reason, he said he would still do so till he
went in with his former proposal; which he did. And,
therefore, says he, to the Lady Argyll, ‘I can do you no
service.’ And he told her, that purposely he had shifted
speaking to her; and that he kept spies on her servants
when they came to the Abbey; so that when they called
for him, he was still not to be found; and at this time
she had surprised him. This Mr. Drummond heard her
tell frequently.”
No. llL—tp: 159.‘)
Marchioness of Argyll. and her son the Earl of
- Argyll.
Her son the Earl of Argyll afterwards became a great
courtier, took the Declaration abjuring the covenants,
and in other respects complied with the evil courses of
the time. This was deeply regretted by his mother, and
the best friends of the Argyll family, who were ready to
exclaim, O temporal O mores .' But she never losthopes
of his returning,r to his father’s principles, as appears
from a letter of Mr. James Stirling, minister of Barony,
Glasgow, to a brother minister whose name is unknown;
dated Glasgow, May 5, 1722, in which he says, “ l
was yesterday visiting Mr. John Stewart’s eldest son,


who I truly fear may be dying. His mother, Mrs. Stew—
art, told me a passage which she had from her honest
father, John Ritchie, which I suppose ye may have
known, and she said he told it to her several times, that
he was very intimate with that choice elect Lady, my
Lady Marchioness of Argyll. He was one day with her
in her chamber, and he said very freely to her, ‘Madam,
I apprehend that your son the Earl of Argyll’s going
on in such a way, with the court of this time, will be
grieving to your Ladyship.’ The sun was shiningr then
very brightly in that chamber where he and my Lady
was, and she answered John Ritchie thus: ‘ John, I am
as clear-fly] and fully persuaded as ye now clearly see
the sun shining in this chamber, that my son will have
a saving change wrought upon him before he die, and
that he will return to his father’s way, and that he will
be brought to suffer for it.’ Mrs. Stewart said to me
that her father told her this, that I now write to you,
many times, as good as twenty times, and that her father
was very great with ‘that noble prince’ (as worthy Mr.
John Carstairs used to call him), the Marquis of Argyll.
I heard once something like this, but never got such a
document for it as I got yesterday.” ‘
_ N0. IV.—(p. 52.)
Letter of Mrs. John Carstairs, to her husband.
The letter which it was intended to insert here having
appeared in the Christian Instructor for 1840, p. 55, is
omitted to make room for some original papers.
No. V.-—(p. 62.)
Suspected Corruption 0f Ctarendon’s History.
\Vodrow, writing in 1731, says, “ Mr. J. Hamilton tells
me that he had what follows from the Duchess of Hamil-
ton’s own mouth; the old Duchess I mean, the heir to
the family; and so, I think it may be depended on :—
He says Bishop Guthrie’s Memoirs were published a little
before Clarendon’s History, first printed 1710, at Oxford.
That it was then generally believed that the edition of
Bishop Guthrie was much altered from the Bishop’s
papers, by the influence of the gentlemen of Oxford,
who had the publishing of Clarendon in their hands.
That when he was talking of this with the Duchess, and
the approaching edition of Clarendon, her Grace told
him that when she was at Court, after the Restoration,
when the Earl of Clarendon was writing his History, he
came and visited her, and told her that he knew her
father very well, and took him to be one of the honestcst
men of his acquaintance. He added, her father had been
abused and very ill used by the party writers, before
and since his death; and that now he was writing a
History of those times, he was willing to do the Duke all
the justice in his power, and desired her to furnish him
with any papers which might give light to his actings.
Accordingly, when she came down to Scotland, her Grace
called for Dr. Burnet, and implored him to rummage all
the papers in Hamilton that related to her father, and to
lay out what be reckoned might be of use to the Earl;
and she sent up by an express a large bundle of papers
relative to her father to England. That, n~xt time she
went to Court, a year or two after, the Earl of Clarendon
came and waited upon her at London, thanked her for
the papers she had communicat to him, and returned
them all safe. He told her he was now perfectly satis-
' Letters to Wodrow, vol. x. “0, no. 170. MSS. in Advomtcs'
, Library.




230
APPENDIX.
..~1_~
tied as to her father’s character, and that he was as
honest a man as breathed, and would give it fully and
fairly to the world; only, there remained one particular
about which he was not yet so clear as he could wish.
The Duke’s enemies alleged that he brought over ten
thousand stand of arms from Holland, and seemed to
vouch it; they pretended further, that he himself had a
design on the crown, to accomplish which he got these
arms. This, the Duchess said, touched her very nearly,
and she immediately resolved to send a servant express
to Hamilton, and ordered a new search to be made at
Hamilton, particularly for anything that related to ten
thousand stand of arms; and, very happily, the servant
brought her the original commission, under the King’s
own hand, to bring so many stand of arms for his ser-
vice! This the Duchess immediately sent to the Earl.
\Vhen he saw and read it, he came back with it to her
Grace, and said, ‘ Now, Madam, I am satisfied in every
point; and I believe, and am assured your father was
one of the best, sincerest, and honestest persons of that
time; and l will give him, as is my duty, a just and fair
character to the world.’ This passed before Clarendon
was published. Expectations were great enough when
the Earl’s History was a-printing. As soon as it came
down, the Duchess got it and read it. When Mr. Hamil-
ton saw her after she had got the printed Clarendon, he
asked how she liked it? She answered, with some con-
cern, ‘I have read it, and I and my family are greatly
abused in it, and, I apprehend, this is the fruit of the
Earl’s MS. its lying twenty years in the hands of the
gentlemen at Oxford;’ and she verily believed that the
Earl’s original History was grossly vitiated.” '
No. Vl.—(p. 1:31.)
Indictment of Isabel Alison, and Marion Harvey.


The Justiciary Court having met at Edinburgh, on
the 17th of January 168], the Judges on the bench
being, Lords Richard Maitland of Duddop, Justice-
Clerk, James Foulis of Colintoun, Robert Nairn of
Strathurd, David Balfour of Forret, David Falconar of
Newtoun, and Roger Hog of Harcars; the two martyrs
were brought to the lrar, and ther indiitment was
read, an extract of which, from the records tf the Jus-
tieiary Court we here subjoin.
“ Intran.
ISABEL ALISON,
‘ ri ners
hIARlON HAnvi-zv, i P so ’
Indicted and accused. That where notwithstanding by
the common law, the law of nations, laws and acts of
Parliament of this kingdom and constant practice there-
of, the rising, joining, and assembling together in arms
of any number of his Majesty’s subjects, the entering
into leagues or bonds with foreigners, or amongst them-
selves, without and contrary to his Majesty’s command,
warrant, and authority, and the abetting, assisting, re-
ceipting, intercommuning and keeping correspondence
with such rebels, supplying or furnishing them with
meat, drink, &-e., are most detestable, horrid, heinous,
and abominable crimes of rebellion, treason, and lese-
majesty. and are punishable with forfaultnre of life,
lands, heritages, and escheat of their moveables; and by
the 129th act, 8th Parliament King James VL. the royal
power and authority in the person of the King’s ma_
jesty, his heirs and successors, over all estates spiritual
and temporal, within this realm, is ratified, approven,
and perpetually confirmed, and it is thereby statute and
ordained that his Highness, his heirs and successors, by
themselves and their council, are, and in time to come
shall be, judges competent to all persons his Highness’s
subjects, of whatever estate, degree, function, or con-
dition they be, of spiritual or temporal, in all matters
wherein they or any of them shall be apprehended,
summoned, or charged to answer to such things as
shall be speircd at them by our sovereign Lord, or his
council, and that none of them that shall happen to be
apprehended, called, or summoned to the effect foresaid,
presume or take upon hand to decline the judgment of
l Wodrow’s Analecta, vol. iv. pp. ‘299—301.
his Highness, his heirs, and successors, or their council,
under the pain of treason. And by the 10th act, 10th
Parliament King James VI., it is statute and ordained,
that all his Highness’s subjects content themselves in
quietness and dutiful obedience to his Highness and his
authority, and tha: none of them presume nor take
upon hand publicly to disclaim, or privately to speak
or write any purpose of reproach or slander to his
Majesty’s person, estate, or government, or to deprave
his laws and acts of Parliament, or misconstrue his
proceedings, whereby any misliking may be moved
betwixt his Highness, or his nobility, and loving sub-
jects in time coming, under the pain of death, to be
cxecut upon them with all rigour, as seditious and
wicked instruments, enemies to his Highness and the
common weal of this realm. And by the 12th act of
the same Parliament of King James VI., it is statute
and ordained, that in time coming no leagues nor bonds
he made amongst his Majesty’s subjects of any degree
upon whatsomever colour [or] pretence, without his
Highness’s and his successor’s privity, and consent had
and obtained thereto, under the pain to he holden and
execut as movers of sedition. And by the 2d act, 2d
session of his Majesty’s first Parliament, it is statute
and ordained, that if any person or persons shall here-
after plot, contrive, or intend death or destruction to
the King’s Majesty, or any bodily harm tending to death
or destruction, or to deprive, depose, or suspend him
from the style, honour, and kingly name of the Imperial
crown of this kingdom, or any others his Maj esty’s do-
minions, or to suspend him from the exercise of his royal
government; and shall by writing, printing, or other
malicious and advised speaking, express and declare
such their treasonable intent-ions, after such persons
being, upon sufficient probation, legally convict thereof,
shall be deemed, declared, and adjudged traitors, and
shall suffer forfaulture of life, lands, and goods, as in
the cases of high treason: NEVERTHELESS, it is of verity
that ye, the said Isabel Alison and Marion Harvey, have
presumed to commit and are guilty of the said crimes,
in so far as ye have oft and diverse times receipt, main-
tained, supplied, intercommuned, and kept correspon-
dence with Mr. Donald Cargill, Mr. Thomas Douglas,
-.\Ir. John \Velsh, the deceased Mr. Richard Cameron,
the bloody and sacrilegious murderers of the late Arch-
bishop of St. Andrews, and sundry other notoriou:
traitors; have heard the said ministers preach up treason
and rebellion,and they and their associates having formed
and devised a treasonable paper, called the Fanatics’
New Covenant, whereby they covenant and bind them—
selves to overthrow his Majesty’s power and authority,
most treasonably asserting that the hands of our King
and most part of the rulers have been against the throne
of the Lord, the purity and power of religion, and god-
liness, and have degenerat into tyranny, have manifestly
rejected God, his service and reformation as a slavery,
have governed contrary to all laws Divine and human,
exercised tyranny and arbitrary government, oppressed
men in their consciences and civil rights, used free sub-
jects (Christians and reasonable men) with less discretion
than their beists; most horridly and treasonably de-
claring the King’s government to be but a lustful rage,
exercised with as little right, reason, and with more
cruelty than in beasts, and the King himself, and the
governors under him, to be public grassators and public
judgments, which all men ought as earnestly to labour
to be free of as of sword, famine, or pestilence raging
amongst them; declaringr themselves obliged to execute
God’s judgment upon them, and that to uphold them is
to uphold Satan’s kingdom and to bear down Christ’s;
most solemnly, avowedly, and treasonably (therefore)
rejecting the King’s most sacred Majesty, their gracious
sovereign, a native prince, and those associat with him
from being their rulers, declaring them henceforth to he
no lawful rulers, and that they neither owe nor should
yield any willing obedience to them; and also declaring
themselves as much bound in allegiance to devils as to
them, they being (as they most treasonably say) the
devil’s vicegerents and not Gods; and likewise the said
monstrous traitors having published an execrable de-
claration at the market-cross of Sanquhar, upon the 22d




APPENDIX.
231


of June last, whereby they most treasonably disown their
sovereign and native prince, whom they call Charles
Stewart, who hath been tyrannizing on the throne of
Scotland, and government thereof forfaulted (as they
treasonably pretend) several years since by this perjury
and breach of covenant with God and his church, and
other reasons therein mentioned; most treasonably there-
fore denouncing and declaring war against their sacred
sovereign (whom they call a tyrant and usurper) and all
the men of his practices, as enemies to the Lord Jesus
Christ, his house, and covenants, and against such as
have strengthened him, sided with him, or any ways
acknowlec ged him in his usurpation and tyranny, civil
and ecclesiastic: As also the said trafgrous rebels having
entered into and subscribed a treas able bond of com-
bination against their sacred sovereign, wherein they
openly and avowedly disown him, as a. perfidious cove-
nant-breaker, usurper of the royal prerogatives of Jesus
Christ, and encrbacher upon the liberties of the church, a
stated opponent to Jesus Christ himself (the Media-tor),
and to the free government of his house, as the said
covenant declaration, and bond of combination, con-
taining therein sundry other treasonable articles and
clauses, in themselves at length purport; the which
horrid and treasonable papers, abominable and unchris-
tian expressions, principles, and opinions, above mentioned
therein contained, ye, the said lsabel Alison and Marion
Harvey, havejudicially, in presence of the Lords Justice-
Clerk, and Commissioners of Justiciary, owned and ad-
hered to, the same being read to you, because (as ye
say) ye see nothing in them against the Scriptures, and
have most treasonably declined the King’s Majesty’s
authority, and the authority of the Lordsof Justiciary,
because (as ye most falsely and treasonably say) they
carry the sword against the Lord. And ye, the said
Marion Harvey, have most treasonably approven of the
execrable excommunication used ly Mr. Donald Cargill
against his sacred sovereign at Torw ood, upon the
day of [Sept.] last, and likewise owned and approved of
the killing of the Archbishop of St. Andrews as lawful,
declaring that he was as miserable a wretch as ever
betrayed the Kirk of Scotland: of the which treasonable
crimes above mentioned ye, and ilk ane of you, are actors,
art and part, which, being found by an assize, ye ought
to be punished with forfaulture of life, land, and goods,
to the terrors of others to commit the like hereafter.”

No. VIL—(p. 142.)
Apprehension of Hume of Graden, and the scufile in
which Thomas Ker of Hey/rope was killed.

another way, which put them to consult what to do
next. In the meantime comes there one telling them
Struthers is at hand with his party. They, not judging
it could be so, thinking he had been gone with Graden,
Ker comes to the door, and while he is walking there
smoking his pipe, he discovers the party, and imme-
diately calls his friends to draw their horses, and draws
his own first, resolving not to be taken, but thoughtto
have taken a by-way, thinking Struthers would have
passed them. However, when Ker mounts, one Squire
h'lartins, Sir John Martins the mayor of Newcastle’s
'son, Struthers’ nephew, would by all means challenge
our friend, contrary [to] the rest their inclination, and
coming up to Ker, asked who he was. He answered,
he was a gentleman._ He says, ‘Be taken, dog.’ Ker
says, ‘Where is your order ;’ upon which he drew his
pistol, and shot Ker in the belly. Immediately Ker
fired, and shot him dead through the head; and after,
Ker, finding himself deadly wounded, ran upon the
party, and fired his other pistol, and then drew his
sword, and fought while he was able to sit on horse-
back and then dropped down, yet wrestled on his knees
and prayed, while the rest were fighting, till his breath
was gone. Our friends fought while they were able.
Alexander Hume is run through the body; Henry Hall
is shot through the arm; all sorely wounded, but hopes
of their recovery; the English, some mortally wounded,
and two killed, with two of their best horses, valued at
100 pieces. Our friends, being disabled, retired, and
the enemy durst not pursue them. Struthers comes to
Ker while his breath was hardly out, and he and all of
them run their swords in him, and takes by the heels
and trails him through the puddle, and then fliugs him
on a dunghill. They would not let bury his corpse, till
a party of friends went in- and brought it away. This
is the truest account of it I can learn.” 1
No. VlIL—(p. 14s.)
The fiery cross 5’ carried through the shire 0f Moray
in 1679.

This scene is particularly described (but who the
writer was we are unable to determine) in a paper
among the Wodrow MSS. entitled, “A true account
of the cruel murder of Thomas Ker, brother to the
Laird of Cherrytrees, according to the relation of some
who were present, which I find amongst my father’s
papers as follows z”--“ I come now to the tragical pas-
sage of our dear friend’s murder, Thomas Ker, Cherry-
trees’ brother. Gradeu Hume, being with my Lord Hume
at dinneiywas speaking somewhat freely to him, and
after dim er, my Lord takes him aside, and tells him he
might take him if he would, and that the King had sent
an express to Colonel Struthers to apprehend all va-
grant’ Scots that were in Northumberland. Whereupon
Graden, without taking leave, came straight to Crook-
um, where were Thomas Ker, young Bnkum, Henry
Hall, Alexander Hume, and Hector Aird (who were
there sheltering, the persecution being now so hot in
their bounds), and presseth them to go from that place,
and not to stay all night; which they did, though late.
But Graden, being wearied, lies down in their bed, and
at midnight the party comes and apprehends Graden,
and carries him first to my Lord Hume, and from thence
to Hume Castle. Our friends, hearing of it, send to
advertise some more friends for his rescue; and they go
to Crookum, where the tryst was set to wait the party’s Y
coming that way. However there came none but whom :1
I have named, and after they had staid a little at the!
place, they are advertised that the party was gone {
That the design in carrying the fiery cross through the
shire at this time was to prevent the heritors and militia
from going out to assist the King’s host, was an allega-
tion which, after the closest investigation, remained
unproved. To protect the country from the M‘Donalds
seems to have been the sole object of those with whom
its mission originated on that occasion, though they may
have been misinformed as to the hostile intentions of the
M‘Donalds. But of this the reader may judge for him_
self, from the evidence collected on this subject by the
commissioners of the privy council at Elgin some years
after, and which is as follows :—- 4
“February 3, 1685.
“In presence of the Earls of Errol and Kintore,
and Sir George Monro.
“ ALEXANDER BRODlE of Letbin, being solemnly sworn,
upon his great oath depones he received a letter from his
* \Vodrow MSS“ vol. xxxii. lolio, no ‘173.
1’ The u<e of the fiery cross by the Highland chieftains, for sum-
moning their clans to a place of rendezvous upon any sudden or
important emergency, was common in the olden time. It was
also called Green Tarigh, or the Cross of Shame. because dis--
obedience to What the symbol implied interred infamy. One of
the ends of the horizontal piece was either burnt or burning, and
a piece oflinen or white cloth stained with blood, was suspended
from the other end; and then the signal was delivered from hand
to hand. till it had passed through the Whole territories of the
clan, which it did with incredible celerity. “ At the sight. of the
fiery cross every man from sixteen years old to sixty, capable of
bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair in his best accoutre—
ments to the place of rendezvous. He who failed to appear,
suffered the extremities of fire and sword. which were emblem-
atically denounced to the aisobedient by the bloody and burned
marks upon this warlike signal.”—Sir Walter Mmtt- On June
9. 1685,by order ofthe privy council, this signal was sent through
the west of Fife and Kinross as nearer to Stirling. that all be-
twixt sixty and sixteen might rise and oppose Argyll and his
forces—Formtainhall’s Decisions, vol. i. p. 364. This is. per-
haps, the last instance in which the fiery cross was sent round
by the command of the government It often made its circuit,
by the direction of the Highland chieftains. during the rebellious
of £515 and Inn-Browns History of the Highlands, vol. i.
p.1' -



232
A PPENDIX.





and this is the truth, as he shall answer to God: Depones
he cannot write. ERROL.
KINTORE.
G. Mouse.
“ALEXANDER KiNNAmD of Culbin depones . . . . that
about the time they were going out to the King’s host,
there was a report and alarm raised, as if the M‘Donalds
were coming down to invade the country; whereupon
there was a meeting of the gentry convened at Auldearn,
amongst whom his father was one, and that there Lethin
took out a letter which, he said, came from Strathspey,
which informed him that the M‘Donalds were coming
down; whereupo the gentlemen took care for their
security, and his er closed up his papers in a stone
Wall: Depones about that time there came a fiery cross
through the country, which gave them the same alarm,
and that there was no such thing as the M‘Donalds
coming down, but all was done on design to keep the
people from going out to the King’s host.
Annx. KINNAIBD.
“THOMAS KINNAIRD, elder, of Culbin, being solemnly
‘ sworn, depones that there was a. meeting of the gentry
I
i
convened at Auldearn by Lethin, at which most of the
gentlemen in that part of the country were present, and
there Lethin produced a letter which, he said, had come
from Strathspey, from Grant, which informed him that
the M‘Donalds were coming down to invade the country,
and there he proposed and advised that the gentlemen

daughter, the Lady Grant, about the time of the going
out of the King’s host, informing him of the M‘Donalds
coming down upon the country, and that the Laird of
Grant was gone through the country amongst his friends
to advise what to do; and depones, that being called to
a burial at Auldearn, he showed the letter to the gentle-
men present, and thereafter, at a meeting of the gentry
of the shires of Moray and Nair-n, it was resolved to
send Captain Stewart express to the Earl of Moray, to
advise what to do; and this is the truth, as he shall
answer to God: Depones the Earl of Moray sent an
answer, and the militia was ordered to come out with
all diligence. ALEXANDER BRODIE.
“ ALEXANDER. TnLLocn of Tnnuachies, being solemnly
sworn, . . . . . . depones, at the time the heritors were
called out to the King‘s host, the time of Bothwelhbridge,
there came a fiery cross through the country from the
West, which surprised the people, and put them in a
fright, as if Mr. M‘Donald were coming to invade the
country, which was altogether false, and supposed by
the loyal party to be done of purpose by the disaffected,
to impede the heritors from going to the King’s host.
Annxxnnnu Tunnocn.
“Jenn CUMMING of Logic, being solemnly sworn, de-
pones, when he was busy convening the militia, and
furnishing them with ammunition, there came an alarm
of a fiery cross through Moray, as if it were to he
invaded by the M‘Donalds, which, he apprehends, was to
interrupt the King’s service, and hinder the militia and i should stay at home and guard the country, and not go
heritors to go out to the King’s host, there being no such
thing as M‘Donalds invading'the country: Depoues it
was reported to have come from the Highlands and from
Strathspey. Jenn CUMMING.
“ GEORGE KAY, procurator-fiscal of Moray, being sworn,
through Moray, the time of the going out of the King’s
host, as the same came to Elgin: Depones it was a fiery
stick, kindled at both ends, and set upon a pole, and car-
ried in a man’s hand, and so affrighted the country, and
the town of Elgin, that they kept a guard of thirty men
nightly: Depones the name of the person who carried
the fiery cross from this is [John] Proctor, as he remem-
bers, but knows not who brought [it]: Depones the
bearer of the cross alarmed the country with the inva-
sion of the M‘Donalds, but never anything followed
thereupon, nor did the M‘Donalds come down: Depones
the cross came from Strathspey or the Braes of Moray,
from the West, as they were informed: and this is the
truth, as he shall answer to God. Gnouen KAY.
“SIR ALEX. Innes of Carlestoun depones he heard of a
fiery cross that came through Moray the ‘time they were
going to the King’s host, and that Robert Innes, por.
[portioner] of Urquhart, took it out of the man’s hand
that brought it there, and waved it before the minister,
fore [before] the time of sermon: Depones he heard it
came from Calder, or Lethin, or Old Brodie, and he
heard the other night, that Lethin took out a paper at
that time, which he said was a letter from Strathspey,
which informed him that the M‘Donalds were coming
down upon the country: Depones the M‘Donalds were
not near the country, nor near those places from which
the alarm came, but all was designed of purpose to fright
the country, and hinder them to go out to the King’s
host, as he heard. ALEXANDER Ixuns.
“ Elgin, February 4, 1685.
“ In presence of the Earls of Errol and Kintore,
and Sir George Monro.
“Jenn Paocrou, tailor in Elgin, depones he was the
man that carried the fiery cross from this town to Ur-
quhart, and that he got it from the magistrates, and that
the man that brought it did alarm the country, as if the
M‘Donalds were presently ‘coming down to slay them;
all which so affrighted the town that they kept strong
guards: Depones he heard it came from the Highlands
and Strathspey, and that it was designed, as has been
since believed, to hinder the people to go out to the
King’s host: Depones it came from the kirk of Birney:
out to the King’s host: Depones the letter was read, and
he remembers there was this expression in it, that
M‘Donald said he should dine at Brodie, and sup at the
sea-side; which afi'righted the country; and that, at the
same time, there went a fiery cross through the country,
i ' v a '1' m: e one‘ he himself and
upon oath depones he saw the fiery cross that came i winch ga e the 5‘ me ‘t ‘W D p b ’
several of the gentry present, opposed the motion of
staying at home, and that, having secured his papers in
a stone wall, he and his son and several of his servants
went out against the rebels: And this is the truth, as he
shall answer to God. THOMAS KINNMRD.
“ FRANCIS WisnMAiv, one of the bailies of Elgin, being
solemnly sworn, depones that the very Sabbath before
the people went out against the rebels, there came a
fiery cross from Birney to Elgin, and that it was talked
that it had come from Knockandoch to Birney, and that
it alarmed them that Mr. M‘Donald was presently com-
ing down upon the country, which so frighted them that
they kept strong guards about the town: Depones it
came to Elgin in the hand of a servant of John Dihe~
side’s, as he was informed: And this is the truth, as he
shall answer to God. FRANCIS VVISEMAN.
“JOHN Innes of Dikeside, in Birney parish, depones
that the time the heritors were going out to Bothwell-
bridge against the rebels, there was a fiery cross that
came through the country, to alarm the country, as if
the M‘Donalds were coming down to take, all away,
which so atfrighted the people, that it put a stop to the
going out of the gentry and militia against the rebels for
eight days: Depones the cross came down from Gedloch,
by a servant of John Leslie’s of Middletoun, to him, and
the deponent gave it to Peter Kynes, his servant, who
carried it in to the provost of Elgin: And this is the
truth, as he shall answer to God. JOHN Innes.
“ Mr. Jenn CUMMING, minister at Birney, being so-
lemnly sworn, depones that the time the people were
making ready to go against the rebels, there came a fiery
cross through the country, from Rothes to the parish of
Birney, and they said it came from Strathspey to that,
and that the alarm went that M‘Donald was in the Braes
of Badenoeh with men in arms, or thereabout, and that
the laird of Grant was making ready, and raising men
to oppose him : and depones, this so affrighted the
country, that they were afraid to leave their houses to
go out to the King’s host, as be judged: And this is all
he presently remembers, and the truth, as he shall
answer to God—JOHN CUMMING, minister at Birney.
“ Mr. JOHN LESLIE,minister at Rothes, depones there
came a fiery cross from the parish of Dallas to the


APPENDIX.
233



parish of Rothes, the time the heritors were going out
against the rebels, which strangely alarmed the country,
as if M‘Donald were coming with a thousand men to
invade the country, and it was a falsehood, and was
looked upon by honest men to be done of purpose and
design to retard the king’s service: And this is the truth,
as he shall answer to God. JoHN LESLIE.
“ARCHIBALD GRANT of Balmholm, solemnly sworn,
depones he lives in Knockandoch parish, and that the
time the heritors and militia were convening to go out
against the rebels at Bothwell-bridge there came a fiery
cross from Kirkdals, which is in Knockandoch parish,
down the country, to his house, and from that to Rothes,
and down to the sea: Depones the cross went from house
to house, and was changed from hand to hand, to give
the quicker alarm, and that the report went with it that
M‘Donald was in the hills cerning down to invade the
country, which strangely affrighted the people, and
retarded their going out against the rebels, but the
deponent himself went to serve the King’s host, against
the rebels: And this is the truth, as he shall answer to
God. ARCIUBALD GRANT.” ‘
No. IX.—(p. 149.)
Desired extension of the Indulgence t0 Morayshz're.


Though no active measures were taken at Edinburgh
by the Commissioners referred to in the text, for the
extension of the Indulgence to h'lorayshire, the entertain-
ment of the question by the Presbyterians in the North
was displeasing to the Government, and the Commis-
sioners of the Privy Council which met at Elgin in 1685,
made particular inquiries as to this matter. The depo-
sitions of such as were examined in regard to it, ex-
tracted from the records of their proceedings, may be
interesting to the reader. They are as follows :—
“ Elgin, Feb. 10, 1685.
“ In presence of the Earls of Errol and Kintore,
and Sir George Monro.
“ SIR HUGH CAMPBELL of Calder, being solemnly
sworn, depones that about July 10, 1679, he being come
to Brodie to visit his uncle, he cannot say whether he
was called or came accidentally, his uncle being then
unwell, he used to come oft and visit him: Depones
when he came there he found several gentlemen, such
as Grant, Grange, Lethin, Kinsterie, Milntoun, Windie-
hill, young Innes, and Donald Campbell, the deponent’s
brother, and some others, to whom and to the deponent
Brodie told that he was informed that the King’s Majes-
ty had granted anindulgence to those be-south Tay, and
that if it were known that any there had a mind to have
the like indulgence, it mightbe obtained. It was spoke
of whether a. petition might be drawn to that purpose, :
but the deponent said it was against law, and was not =
to be done. The next thing was thought on was to
send a gentlemen or two to Edinburgh, to see what
was in the matter, and whether such a thing was feas-
ible, and it was proposed that young Innes and Donald
Campbell should go. But they excusing themselves
at that time, Brodie desired Grange to go; but he
declined it, or to do anything by himself, although
he seemed to have some other affairs at Edinburgh.
'Whereupon Brodie pressed the deponent to go with
him, in respect he knew he was to go very shortly
however; which at Brodie’s desire he condescended to
do, and to give him his advice, when upon the place, if
he could see that anything could be done without giving
offence. whereupon there was a letter written, and
left blank upon the back, that Grange and the deponent
might fill up any person’s name there they should think
fit, if they saw any ground to think that their desires
could be granted. The letter was but short, narrating
what we heard, and desiring to inform himself whether
an indulgence might be obtained; and the only argu-
ment as he remembers proposed in the letter was that
none of the subscribers had ever been at any field can-
venticle, and had never joined in arms, and never should
1 Warrants of Privy Council.
join in arms with any person, who had, or should take
arms against the King’s person, or authority: Depones
likewise, that the deponent does not mind how much
money should have been collected for the expense of
any who should [have] been employed in case the affair
could have been prosecute, but the deponent well re-
members that Donald Campbell, his brother, did collect
£500 Scots, and some little odds, which money, with
the letter above mentioned, was given to the laird of
Grange; and within a few days after the deponent and
he came to Edinburgh, Grange asked the deponent
what to do with the letter, and he advised him to
destroy it, which was accordingly done; and when
Grange came home, leaving the deponent at Edinburgh,
he left the £500, and odd money, with the deponent, to
be given to his brother, who was not then arrived at
Edinburgh, and accordingly the deponent held compt
with his brother anent it. This is all he remembers of
the affair, according to his present knowledge and memo-
ry, as he shall answer to God: Depones the letter was
subscribed (for what the deponent knows) by all that
were present, and that the deponent himself did con-
tribute no money: Depones Mr. Robert Martin came
to the deponent, and dealt with him, that he might be
employed to negociate to obtain the indulgence, but the
deponent absolutely declined to employ him, but caused
destroy the letter relating to it, as is above said.
H. C. of Calder.
“LUDovICK GRANT of that ilk, being solemnly sworn,
dcpones he was at Brodie eight or ten days after their
return from Bothwell or thereby, where there were
present Calder, Grange, Lethin, Innes younger, and
other gentlemen, and a letter was drawn and signed
by them, but not direct on the back, but to have been
backed for any of the statesmen should be thought most
fit, that they might deal for procuring the indulgence
to be extended to this country, and the letter was given
to Calder and Grange, who carried it south, and the
affair was referred to their management: Depones there
was money to have been given to Calder and Grange,
for their expense in going to Edinburgh: And this is
the truth, as he shall answer to God.
LUDOVKCK GRANT.
“THOMAS DUNBAR of Grange, being solemnly sworn,
depones that Innes younger told the deponent about the
12th of July 1679, that there was an indulgence granted
to the west and south of Scotland, and within afew days
thereafter he had occasion to be at my Lord Brodie’s
house seeing him, where there was Innes younger, Cal-
der, Grant, Kilravock, Lethin, Milntoun, and Donald
Campbell, and being discoursing anent the indulgence,
old Brodie told that he had got some advertisement
that there was indulgence granted, and thought, if we
moved any such thing, we might have the like favour
granted to us: whereupon the gentlemen above named
resolved that they would draw a letter; which according-
ly was done, the contents whereof were in these terms :—
That forasmuch as his vMajesty had been graciously
pleased to grant indulgence to the south and west parts
of Scotland, who had been in actual rebellion against his
Majesty, and kept field conventicles, the like whereof
had never been in those parts of Scotland, and we hoped
there never should be such practices found amongst us,
that therefore their Lordships would be pleased to try
if his Majesty would be pleased to extend his gracious
favour to this place of the country. This letter was left
! blank upon the back as to the address, till it should be
considered whether it should have been addressed to my
Lord Chancellor or my Lord Secretary. Young Innes,
and Donald Campbell were desired to go south with
the letter. Donald Campbell could not go at that time,
and Innes would not go without him. \Vhereupon the
laird of Calder and the deponent being going however,
the letter was given to them, that they might try what
might be gotten done in the matter; and they having
come to Edinburgh, he thinks before the 20th of July,
found that there was no place for moving in that matter,
but rather that the indulgence granted was like to be
retracted, they did not move at all, less or more, but
tore the letter, and came home how soon they had done
their business: Depones Mr'bl‘tobert Martin would be


234
APPENDIX.




intruding himself upon the employment, but they gave
him none: And this is the truth, as he shall answer to
God. THOMAS DUNBAR.
“FRANCIS BRODIE of Milntoun, being solemnly sworn,
depones, that about the beginning of July 1679, being
at Brodie at a meeting where there were present Grant, '
Grange, Calder, Innes younger, Kilravock, and some
others (but remembers not if Pitgavenie was there),
there was a letter drawn which he conceives was direct
to the Chancellor, or Lords of Privy Council, and a war-
rant or instructions given to young Innes and Donald
Campbell, to go south, to deal and negociate that this
country might participate of his Majesty’s favour and in-
dulgence, granted to those in .the south and west of
Scotland, and money was to have been given for their
cxpen~e as he heard, but himself gave none: And this is
the truth, as he shall answer to God—FRANCIS Bnoma. -
ERROL.
KINTORE.
G. MoNRo.” !
No. X.—(p. 167.)
Sense in which the Covenanters refused to sag; God .
save the King.”
Though it is incorrect to affirm that 1\Iargaret Wilson
refused to save her life by saying “God save the King,”
yet many of the Covenanters no doubt refused to say
this even to save their lives. It would, however, be to
take a very superficial view of the case, to ascribe this to
a foolish obstinacy. They were quite ready to use the
words in the spirit of that exhortation of Paul, “ I
exhort therefore that, first of all, supplications, prayers,
intercessions and giving of thanks be made for all men;
for kings and for all that are in authority; that we may
lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and
honesty,” (I Tim. ii. 1, 2). The sense in which they
declined to say “ God save the King” was the sense put
upon the words by their persecutors—a sense which
implied an acknowledgment not only of the King’s
civil supremacy, which all the Presbyterians, with the
exception of the Cameronians, were ready to make, but
also of his ecclesiastical supremacy, an acknowledgment ,
which none of them could consistently make, as, ac-
cording to their principles, this would have been sacri-
legiously to yield to him that headship over the church
which Christ claims as his exclusive and inalienable
prerogative. \Vhen, in August 1684, John Campbell of
Over-Welwood in Ayrshire was imprisoned in Glas-
gow, ‘Vindram asked him if he would pray for the King.
Campbell answered that he both did and would pray
that the Lord would enable him to live a godly life here,
and bestow upon him a. life of glory hereafter. “That
not enough,” said \Vindram, “you must pray for King
Charles II. as he is supreme overall persons and causes,
ecclesiastic as well as civil.” Campbell replied, that in
his opinion that was “praying for him as the head of the
church; which belonged only to Christ, and hereckoned
it arrogance in any creature whatsoever to claim it.”
—\Vodrow’s Ilistory, vol. iv. p. 49.
No. XL—(p. 189.)
Countess of Argyll's sympathy with the Covenanters. ‘

In illustration of this lady’s benevolent sympathy with
and favour for the persecuted Presbyterians, we may
here insert the two followingr letters, addressed to “ Mr.
Robert Miller, merchant in the Exchange at Edinburgh,”
\\ hich refer to some individual not named, who was
evidently suffering for nonconformity, and in whom she
felt deeply interested.
LETTER I.
Stirling, September 8, 1683.
LOVING FRiEND,—I received yours, for which I
heartily thank you. I was both satisfied and grieved
to read all you sent me. My heart felt what he was
suffering, as much as any alive; for I both love and
1 Warrants of Privy Council.

1 respect that person, and were it fit for me, would go
. far to do him any good. But I hope in him [that he]
who is merciful, and hath a care of his own, and also
of the innocent, will show his sovereign power, and
not only preserve him, but bring him through this his
trouble, and reward all does [who do] him good. 1
spoke to my Lady Arroll for him, and I think it were
not amiss his sister Mary came in, and spake to her and
the Lady Largo, and tell her all that belongs him re-
members their kindness to their father, and that even
he expects they will do him good in what is in their
power. I was much for Mary’s going to England. I
wish she could go yet, and that your affairs would allow
you. I shall not offer to desire it absolutely; but since
you go once a year, I would be in your debt £5, so you
could go and assist him, and take Mary with you; and
she being a woman and a sister, might venture where it
were not fit to you to go. I should write with her
to some, and you would be able to advise her, and do
things she could not do. I went and spoke to the ad-
vocate ere he went, and he and his lady promised to do
Mr. W. all the service they could; and her woman Mrs.
Carintoun promised to mind them. So the sooner any
go it were the better. Let your cousin Mary know of
all that you sent to me, and if you kept the cipher of

am sure will not hinder her to go, and I doubt not will
assist him, and I think so should all that concerns him
for whom he is innocently suffering, only because he
served him he is suspected. The great God direct well
all that may contribute for his relief and advantage. I
expect to hear by the bearer from you: so adieu!
P.S.--The enclosed I would have you to send with
some sure hand to Fife, to my Sophia. If you will be
pleased to speak to George M‘Kenzie, or his man, to
send any of my son’s servants to you, that is going to
Fife, he will do it.

LETTER lI.
LOVING Putnam—Since your own affairs takes you
not where I wished you to go, I will not take on me
to send you. But if you had been to go, I would have
been content with all my heart to have been, as I said,
£5 in your debt, so you could have served your worthy
cousin, and been useful to him at this time. Had I had
the money beside me when I wrote, I had sent it you;
and had I money, or could get my own, I could have
‘ sent one with a better sum. if it could contribute to his
good for whom I have a real kindness; for the Lord, 1
hope, will be in place of all to him, and let the world
sec his innocence and faithfulness. If I have time 1
will write to your cousin Mary. I have time to say no
more but '

A Letter of the Earl of Argyll, to his Lady, in
ciphers.
This letter was probably written after he heard that
the conspiracy was discovered; and it abounds in mute
ciphers. It is as follows :—
“32 67 48 45 25 43 24 51 26 41 44 36 51 4O 43 44
69 28 37 26 54 56 48 57 53 52 39 44 56 27 47 44 29
48 57 39 5O 53 57 58 22 53 53 4O 50 48 52 58 57 64
54 59 56 54 53 57 44 57 68 58 47 56 48 42 41 51 69
21 56 44 43 57 51 40 43 44 28 54 56 53 54 53 58 48
58 48 53 52 2O 53 45 44 59 44 56 62 67 58 47 48 '2
40 32 51 48 46 47 58 57 44 42 59 56 44 39 41 56 40
52 43 60 48 58 47 53 59 58 40 41 53 61 64 58 47 44
52 58 53 43 44 40 5O 44 6O 48 58 47 41 48 56 42 57
41 59 58 48 58 48 57 52 53 58 58 4O 5O 49 48 52 46
6O 48 50 43 53 44 48 58 64 60 47 5O 58 48 57 74 4O
54 44 52 44 43 52 44 44 43 97 52 53 58 47 48 52 43
44 56 41 59 58 57 47 53 59 50 43 45 59 56 58 47 44
, 56 44 513’
i
E No. XII.—(p. 184.)
i

’ These two letters are printed from copies ohligingly com-
municated by David Laing. Esq., Signet Library. There is a
letter written by the same Lady to Mr. Robert Douglas, dated
London, August ‘2], 16119, in vol. xxvi. folio, no. ll") of the
I IVodrow MSS. But this letter I have not seen. The volume
i In which it is to be found is probably in the possession of the
, very Rev. Principal Lee.


them, let her see them and advise with her lady, who I»

APPENDIX. 235




The above letter deciphered, and mutes pointed out: ‘
m stands for mute.
m m m Duke
“32 67 If 25 D
m Monmouth m m
27 M
m
m m m m m m
69 28 prison39er, 27 he 29 is 39 lost 22 to all
m m Carstairs
intents and purposes. 68. Thrice Mr. 6921 Red2
m m m m
made 28 proposition 20 of every 67 thing 32 might
m Scotland battle
secure 39 Brand without a box,
England;
with Birch;
what has happened need not hinder, but should further
them.” 3
and then to deal
but it is not talking will do it; and
N0. XllL—(p. 189.)
Extracts from a Letter of the Countess of Argyll, to
her son Colin. Earl of Balcarres.
The letter from which the following extracts are
taken, was written by the Countess to her son, after his
marriage, at an early age, to Mademoiselle Mauritia de
Nassau, daughter of Louis de Nassau, Count of Bever-
waert and Auverquerque in Holland,‘ by Elizabeth,
Countess of Horn. The particulars of the marriage have
more than the interest of romance. The young Mauritia
had fallen in love with Colin, who was extremely
handsome, at his first presentation at the Court of
Charles l1.; and cre long the day was fixed for their mar-
riage. “ The Prince of Orange, afterwards \Villiam 111.,
presented his fair kinswoman, on this joyful occasion,
with a pair of magnificent emerald ear-rings, as his
wedding gift. The day arrived, the noble party were
assembled in the church, and the bride was at the altar;
but, to the dismay of the company, no bridegroom ap—
peared! The volatile Colin had forgotten the day of his
marriage, and was discovered in his night-gown and
slippers, quietly eating his breakfast! Thus far the tale
is told with a smile on the lip, but many a tear was shed
at the conclusion. Colin hurried to the church, but in
his haste left the ring in his writing-case; a friend in the
company gave him one—the ceremony went on, and,
without looking at it, he placed it on the finger of his
iair young bride. It was a mourning ring, with the mort-
head and crossed bones. ()n perceiving it at the close of
the ceremony, she fainted away; and the evil omen had
made such an impression on her mind that, on recover-
ing, she declared she should die within the year, and her
presentiment was too truly fulfilled.
“ It was in the joy of seeing Colin established, to all
appearance, so happily for life, that his mother addressed
him an admirable letter of advice, moral, religions,
political, and domestic. No subject is left untouched,
of which a mother would be anxious to impress right
ideas on a son.”
She thus writes in the beginning :—~“Becausc the
interest of the soul is preferable to that of the body, I
shall first desire you be serious in your religion, wor-
shipping your God,and let your dependence be constantly
upon him for all things; the first step in it is, to believe
in God that he made and upholds tlze universe in wis-
dom, in goodness, and in justice; that we must adore,
obey him, and approve of all he does. The fear of God,
says Solomon, is the beginning of knowledge; he is a
bnckler to all that walk uprightly. Dedicate some

26 be 36 made‘
. day will I pray to Thee.’

giving you his Word and Spirit, and that you live under
the gospel—for all the faculties of your soul and body
-that you are descended of Christian parents-for
your provisions—for all you have in possession. Read,
pray; consider the life and death of your blessed Sa~
viour and Lord, and your heart will be warmed with
that love that is beyond expression, that meekness and
humility that endured the contradiction of sinners
against himself. Strive to be conform to him; no fraud,
no guile, no evil-speaking was found with him, for all
the injustice and wicked backbiting he met with; he
was kind, doing always good. He forgave, was patient
in enduring injuries, was charitable. My dear son, the
great work to which we are called is to be partakers
of his holy, harmless nature; true religion stands in
imitating of him and converse with him. ‘Truly,’ says
the apostle John, ‘ our fellowship is with the Father and
the Son.’ David says, ‘ Evening and morning and mid-
We have directions and ex-
amples in the Holy \Vord for what we should do; we are
told to watch and pray, that we be not led into tempta-
tion (they are oft most afraid of them that are most
resolved and best acquainted to resist them);-to im-
plore his help for supply of grace or strength, or of
what we need; and to encourage us to it, he says none
shall seek his face in vain. He gives us his Holy \Vord,
that we may daily read out of it Divine lessons; it is a
lantern to our feet to walk cleanly, and sure it is for
instruction and direction in righteousness; read often of
the life and death of your Saviour; read the book of
Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes; often the Epistles,
not neglecting the other Scriptures; for other books, 1
would have you read those most that will make you
know the Scriptures and your duty; and yourself must
make conscience of your duty to your particular rela-
tions.”
To his Prince, she inculcates loyalty and reverence;
to his country, love and protection; reminding him,
however, that public characters are unhappy, except in
times when virtue is loved for its own sake. “ Strive,”
says she, “ to enrich your mind with virtue, and let it
be attended with the golden chain of knowledge, tem-
perance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness, and
charity.” Possessed of these, “though you were bereft
of all the world can give you or take from you, you are
l justly to be accounted happy.”
Friendship she holds as the choicest earthly blessing,
but she gives her son important cautions and advices on
the subject. “\Vhere the fear of God is not,” says she,
“and the practice of Christian virtues, that friendship
cannot stand long; there is certainly a secret curse in
that friendship whereof God is not the foundation and
the end. Let not the least jealousy of your faithful
friend enter into your mind, but whatever he do, think
it was well intended; in some cases it is better to be
deceived than distrust.”
Yet, “though friendship be the greatest solace of life,
it proves not always firm enough to repose the soul
absolutely upon. The fixedness of all things here below
depends on God, who would have us to fix all our peace
and contentment, even this we enjoy in the creatures, on
himself. There is great reason for it. It’s much if our
j friend’s judgment, affection, and interest long agree: if
certain time every day for the service of your glorious .
Maker and Redeemer; in that, take a survey of your
life, shorter or longer, as the time will permit; thank '
him for making you what you are—for redeeming you,

As, by the alphabet made use of in this letter, 40 stands for
the letter a, 41 for b, and so on till you cone to 64, which stands
for 8:; the way to distinguish the mutes from the significant
ryphers is to observe whether any two figures fall within the
compass of the alphabet from 40 to 64. Thus. the figures 32, 07,
at the beginning of the letter, are muies, 3'2 being,r a number
below the fir.~t cu-her, and 67 a number above the last.
'~' This alludes to a plan which Mr. Carstairs had formed for
Surprising the cast'e of Edinburgh.
~ Carstairs‘ State Papers, p. 107.
4 Natural son of Maurice, Prince of Orange.
there be but a difference in any of these, it doth much
to mar all, the one being constrained to love that the
other loves not: one of you may have a friend, whose
favour may make great breaches, an Ahithophel or a
Ziba; our Saviour had those who followed him for in-
terest, that did soon forsake him, and turned his betrayers
and enemies. If one of you be calmer nor [than] the
other, and allows not all the other does out of humour.
this causes mistakes. As a man is, so is his strength.
A virtuous, faithful friend, whose ways are ordered by
God, who is of a sweet, equal, cheerful humour, not
jealous, not easily 2: ade to break the friendship he hatl‘
made on good grounds, which is understood to be kindled
from heaven, is certainly the greatest jewel on earth.
1 But if God so dispose of it, that your friends, though the
nearest relations on earth, change to you, strive to be
; constant to them, and to overcome all with patience.
- Let meekness smooth over all their passions, espouse




236
APPENDIX.


i



No. XIV.-(p. 1960
Sufi'erings of Sir Duncan Campbell of Aucliinbreck.
The account in the text is confirmed by a “petition
of Sir Duncan Campbell for himself and his distressed
friends, tenants, and vassals, in Knapdale, Glassary, and
Kelislait,” presented to the Estates of Parliament after
the Revolution. Referring to his having taken up arms
with the Earl of Argyll in 1685, “ in defence of the
Protestant religion, and in opposition to Popery and
arbitrary power,” the petition states that the “ petitioner
having from his sense of the justice and necessity of the
said Earl, his undertaking, and for the defence of the
country, caused man and garrison his house of Carnas- ,
sary, the same was besieged, and a treaty for surrender
being in dependence, the deceased Lauchlane M‘Laine
of Torlisk, Lauchlane M‘Laine of Coll, M‘Laine of
Ardgour, M‘Laine of Kenlochalin, M‘Laine
of Lochbuy, Donald M‘Neil of Collachie, Archibald
M‘Lauchlane of Craiginterave, and M‘Kerchnie in
Kintyre, conjunctly and severally with their barbar-
ous accomplices, did in the first place cause hang Du-
gald M‘Tavish, fiar of Dunardarie, at the said house
of Carnassary, and immediately after the surrendering
thereof, did barbarously murder Alexander Campbell
of Strondour, the petitioner’s uncle, and without any
regard to any conditions of faith given, they did fall
upon and wound above twenty of the soldiers of the
garrison, plunder and carry away out of the said house
threescore horse led [i.e., laden] of goods and plenish_
ing; and after all these crnelties and robberies, the said
deceased Lauchlane M‘Laine of Torlisk, with his above-
named followers and accomplices, did set fire to the
said house of Carnassary, and burn it to ashes: and
after all, your petitioner’s estate being annexed to the
crown, the rents thereof were intromitted with, and
uplifted by William Stewart of Craigtown, as having
commission from the Lords of the Treasury, since the
year 1685, to Martinmas 1689, and the same are yet
in his hands, and during this space the said friends,
tenants, and vassals, were, by the arbitrary exactions
of the deceased Viscount of Strathallan and Sir John
Drummond of Machonie, oppressed, leised, and damnified
in certain great sums of money: Likeas the said Don-
ald M‘Neil of Collachie, and Archibald M‘Lauchlane of
Craiginterave, did intromit with, and take up out of the
parishes of Knapdale, Kelislate, Glassary, and Aris-
keodnish [i.e., Kilmartin], the number of ‘2000 cows,
belonging to the petitioner, his friends, and tenants; and
the said M‘Kerchnie in Kintyre did seize upon the haill
goods and plenishing within the petitioner’s house of
Lochgair, wherethrough your petitioner, his said friends,
tenants, and vassals are disabled, leased, and damnified
in the sums of money and avails following: viz. by the
burning of the said house of Carnassary, in the sum of
£20,000 Scots; by the taking away of the said goods, as
will appear by a particular list, in the sum of £20,000
money foresaid, by his lying out of his estate intromitted
with by the said William Stewart in the sum of £24,000
money foresaid: by the said arbitrary exactions of the
said Viscount Strathallan and Sir John Drummond of
Machonie, in the sum of £12,000 money aforesaid; and
by the said Donald M‘Neil and Archibald M‘Lauchlane
of Craiginterave, their intromitting with and taking up
of the said 2000 cows, in the sum of £40,000 money
foresaid; and by the said M‘Kerchnie, his taking away
of the plenishing of the house of Lochgair, in the
sum of £2000 money foresaid: extending in haill the
said sums, to the sum of $118,000 Scots money fore-
1 Acts of the Parliament of Scotland, July 8, 1690.

their interest, pursue them with kindness and service-
ableness of all kinds, seek reconciliation on any terms, ,
amend what they think amiss.
your words and actions; put on charity, which is the
bond of perfection, which suffereth long, is kind, envieth
not; forbear upbraiding or repeating what you have
done to oblige them, but look on what you do for your
friends, and their accepting of it, as that wherefore you
are most indebted to them, from those you are engaged
to in friendship, strive to be content with frowns as well
as smiles; bear all their infirmities, considering they
must bear yours.
“ To be kind to your sisters is not only the earnest
desire of your mother, who lodged you all in her womb;
but what is far more, it is commanded you by the Spirit
of God to add to your faith and virtue ‘brotherly kind-
ness.’ ‘A brother,’ says Solomon, ‘is born for adversity.’
If it be enjoined us to bear this kindness to all that love
God, our Lord, and Father, far more are you to bear it
to your sisters, who are both lovers of God and your
own sisters also. ‘A brother loves at all times,’ saith
Solomon. They have you now for their father; be kind
to them as he was, and live as you would have yours to
do after you are gone. God, Ihope, will requite your
brotherly care and kindness with a blessing to you in
your own. St. John saith, he that loves his brother
(I may say sisters also) lives in light, and there is no
occasion of stumbling in him. Good Abraham said to
Lot, ‘Let no strife be betwixt thee and me, and thy
servants and mine; we are brethren.’ Our Saviour has
told us, ‘ A family divided cannot stand,’ and saith the
Spirit of God, ‘How pleasant is it to see brethren to
dwell together in unity!’ A threefold cord is not easily
broken; how pleasant,how easy is it to live in love, and
to do our duty to all! Their virtue, I hope, will make
you love and trust them.”
To regard his wife as the dearest friend of his bosom
(“Believe it,” she says, “no man is happy but he that is
so in his own house”), to educate his children in the fear
and love of God, in truth and knowledge, telling them
“ of the virtues of those who have been before them, that
they may do nothing base or unworthy that looks like
degenerating from them,” “ to maintain an orderly and
religious household, shunning Whisperers and flatterers,
that sail with all winds,” to be kind to his servants in
their vigour, and careful of them in age and sickness; to
love, rather than hate his enemies; and, to extend his
charity beyond the external duties of a Christian to-
wards the poor and afi‘iicted, to the regulation of his
opinions with regard to others, questioningr his own,
rather than their judgment; learning of his Saviour to
Let ingenuity be in all ’
be meek, and remembering that “God was not in the ‘
thunder or the fire, but in the calm, still voice,” to be
modest in society abroad, and to look on the careful
management of his affairs at home as a duty,--these, and
many other incidental duties, are enforced with affection
as tender as the language is energetic.
“Your good grandfather, Lord David,” she concludes,
“ thought that day misspent he knew not some new
thing. He was a very studious and diligent man in his
affairs. You that have such a closet [library], such
gardens, and so much to do within doors and without,
need not think the time tedious, nor be idle, it is the
hand of the diligent maketh rich. The good man orders
his affairs with discretion, it is the diligent that is the only
person fit for government, Solomon saith, his thoughts
tend to plenteousness, and he may stand before kings.
“ My care hath been great for you and your family,
and you may see by this I will be always, my dear son, i
i said.” 1
your kind mother, ANNA ARG'YLL.” ‘
1 Lives of the Lindsay's, vol. ii. pp. 120-1‘28.
GLASGOW. \V. G. BLACKll-I AKD 30., PRINTERS, YILLAFIELD.

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