PE31SEOTED FAMES 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. Bartlett Heard 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMIL*. 
 
 And, lifting up his hands, he prayed, and said 
 " Lord Jesus, forgive my enemies " 
 
THK 
 
 PERSECUTED FAMILY; 
 
 A NARRATIVE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF 
 RELIGIOUS AND PIOUS CHRISTIANS, 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 J. V. PIERCE. 
 
 1843. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
 cm 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE lives and memories of our Chris- 
 tian ancestors, who suffered so much for 
 the blessings of that civil and religious 
 liberty, which the inhabitants of Britain 
 now enjoy, ought, one would think, to be 
 peculiarly interesting and sacred to us 
 their posterity. Yet so it happens, that 
 while the warrior, who has drained his own 
 country of its wealth, and emptied it of 
 its bravest people, to carry devastation and 
 ruin over other nations, attracts the his- 
 toric pen minutely to record his deeds, and 
 the genius of poetry, in lofty verse, to sing 
 his praise, those glorious sufferers, who 
 exposed themselves to the fury of persecu- 
 tion, and, like the true soldiers of Jesus 
 Christ, patient, persevering, and zealous, 
 fought in behalf of all that is dear to man, 
 are wholly forgotten by many, their cha- 
 racters ridiculed, and their actions misrep- 
 resented by others, and the courage with 
 which they suffered for our good, too little 
 admired by all. The patriot, who takes 
 the sword in his hand, and, at the head of 
 
11 PREFACE. 
 
 his countrymen, makes extraordinary ef- 
 forts to repel the invasion of an enemy, or 
 to shake the guilty despot from the strong- 
 holds of his tyranny, becomes, as he de- 
 serves, the subject of warmest eulogy; and 
 there is not a passage in his history which 
 the young and old of his country cannot 
 relate. But if the patriot, who has saved 
 his country from an enemy, or rid it of 
 oppression, is worthy of his laurels, is he 
 less worthy, who abandons the comforts 
 of plenty, submits to every privation, and 
 offers himself to every trial, that he may 
 do his duty to God while he lives, and 
 hand down religion in its purity to after 
 generations ? With more pomp, indeed, 
 are the steps of the patriot soldier attend- 
 ed ; but the sufferings of the persecuted 
 Christian bring more glory to God, and 
 more good to man. The one fights, that 
 he may secure our possessions from plun- 
 der, and our bodies from slavery : the 
 other suffers, that he may preserve for us 
 an inheritance which fadeth not away, a 
 peace which passeth understanding, a lib- 
 erty which is spiritual, and a life which is 
 eternal. The one fights for the reputa- 
 tion of his country, and our rights as men: 
 the other suffers for the glory of God, and 
 our privileges as immortal beings. Every 
 sigh, we know, of our persecuted ances- 
 
PREFACE. Ill 
 
 tors is recorded in heaven ; every tear 
 which they shed is preserved in the bottle 
 of God. VVhy, then, should their memo- 
 ries not be dear to us, for whom they bled 
 and for whom they died ? 
 
 But it is not only that we may pay them 
 our debt of gratitude that we ought to ac- 
 quaint ourselves with their lives ; it is, that 
 we may gather humility from their lowli- 
 ness ; faith from their trust in God ; cour- 
 age from their heaven-sustained fortitude; 
 warmth from the flame of their devotion, 
 and hope from their glorious success. In 
 this age of peace to the church, the love 
 of many hath waxed cold. Because God 
 requires less hard service of us than he did 
 of our forefathers, we seem to grudge the 
 performance of it. To rekindle the dying 
 embers of zeal, and warm the heart of 
 coldness, we know nothing better than to 
 peruse the lives of those who suffered so 
 much, and with such willingness of heart, 
 for those religious privileges which we 
 now enjoy in peace and security. Youth, 
 especially, have need to make themselves 
 well acquainted with their lives ; for they 
 can scarcely fail to meet with books in 
 which heedless genius has held them forth 
 to laughter ; and if they are not taught to 
 revere them, they will soon be taught to 
 hold them in ridicule. Many of their lives, 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 however, are either written in so antiqua- 
 ted and ungainly a phraseology, as to be 
 noways inviting to the youthful mind ; or 
 are blended with circumstances so extra- 
 ordinary, as to discredit and destroy the 
 effect of what is true. It is a belief of 
 this which has induced me to lay before 
 the public the following narrative ; the 
 different parts of which, although I do not 
 pretend to say they happened in the very 
 same relation which I have given them, 
 are all severally true, and such as require 
 no credence in those miracles which have 
 so hurt and discredited the character and 
 actions of our persecuted ancestors. 
 
 
THE 
 
 PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 * There stands the messenger of truth : there stands 
 The legate of the skies ! His theme divine, 
 His office sacred, his credentials clear. 
 In doctrine uucorrupt ; in language plain, 
 And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste 
 And natural in gesture ; much impressed 
 Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, 
 And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds 
 May feel it too ; affectionate in look, 
 And tender in address, as well becomes 
 A messenger of grace to guilty men.' 
 
 COWPEB. 
 
 THE Reverend Mr. James Briice, the head 
 of that family whose lives we are briefly to 
 record, was the youngest son of a very respect- 
 able gentleman in the upper district of Lanark- 
 shire. In his boyhood he gave such indications 
 of superior talent, and love of piety and learning, 
 as induced his father 10 educate him for the 
 ministry. During the course of his studies in 
 the university of Glasgow, James applied him- 
 self to the various branches of education which 
 
2 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 were then taught, with an assiduity and success, 
 which proved that his father was noways wrong 
 in the profession he had chosen for his son. In 
 divine literature, to which the pious bent of his 
 mind, as well as his future views, directed him 
 chiefly, his progress was extremely rapid, and his 
 acquirements solid and extensive. Of contro- 
 versial theology he was by no means ignorant, 
 although his mild and peaceful mind delighted 
 itself especially in contemplating the plain truths 
 "of the Bible, and how they might be impressed, 
 with the happiest effects, on the souls of men. 
 The New Testament he read continually ; and 
 his heart was warmed with its love, and his soul 
 fashioned to its precepts. As his judgment was 
 sound, so his feelings were strong. The history 
 of our Saviour's life, and sufferings, and death, 
 made a most extraordinary impression on his 
 mind : and while he read, and loved, and ador- 
 ed, his soul took on the likeness of the great 
 Testator, in the holy simplicity of his character, 
 in resignation to the will of God, in devotion to 
 the duties of religion, and in love to mankind. 
 To those acquirements, without which a min- 
 ister is ill fitted for his office, he added a pretty 
 extensive knowledge of philosophy and books 
 of taste ; and withal he was not an unsuccessful 
 student of the human heart. 
 
 The romantic scenery amidst which his child- 
 hood had been nursed, had strongly imaged on 
 his mind the pure objects of nature ; and, follow- 
 ing his own propensity, as well as imitating the 
 writers of the Bible, he made ample use of them, 
 in summoning them forth to bear witness to 
 God's power, and wisdom, and goodness, and 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY, 3 
 
 in illustrating by them the doctrines of the gos- 
 pel. 
 
 With a mind thus prepared, in his twenty- 
 sixth year, Mr. Bruce received a call from the 
 
 inhabitants of S (a small village on the 
 
 water of Ayr) and its neighbourhood to be their 
 minister. The call, as every minister of sincere 
 heart would wish, was cordial and unanimous. 
 Tlie situation of the village, although this was 
 only a secondary consideration with Mr. Bruce, 
 was such as peculiarly concorded with his feel- 
 ings and desires. Placed in a sequestered hol- 
 low, through which the Ayr led his stream, 
 winding pleasantly, covered with hills, which 
 rose abruptly on every side, giving root to the 
 beech, the oak, and the birch, which interwove 
 their varied robes in Nature's taste, the little 
 village seemed to be the very home of pensive 
 goodness and holy meditation. These things 
 urged him to accept the call. Above all, that 
 he might be like his Saviour, continually en- 
 gaged in his heavenly Father's work, instructing 
 the ignorant, and training immortal spirits for 
 heaven, he gladly complied with the invitation, 
 and was; accordingly, settled among them. 
 
 Soon alter this settlement, he married Miss 
 Eliza Inglis, the daughter of a gentleman who 
 lived in the neighbourhood of Mr. Bruce's 
 father. This marriage was the result of a long- 
 nourished affection, founded on like tastes and 
 like desires. As they had spent their childhood 
 and youth near one another, they became early 
 acquainted, and early attached to each other. 
 Miss Inglis, as she grew up, added to a hand- 
 some person, and an engaging countenance, the 
 
4 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 prudence and industry of domestic management, 
 as well as some of those more liberal acquire- 
 ments, fitted to render her a proper companion 
 for a person of learning and taste. But what 
 had attached Mr. Bruce to her, and what was 
 still the charm that bound his heart closer ami 
 closer to hers, was the natural tenderness of 
 her soul, and the meek loveliness of her piety. 
 It was this holy kind-heartedness, this simplicity 
 of nature, added to the humility of the Chris- 
 tian, that threw enchantment into her look, and 
 made her the more beloved, the more she was 
 known. 
 
 Such was the young lady, whom, in her 
 twenty-fourth year, Mr. Bruce made the part- 
 ner of his life. Her good report had reached 
 the village before her, and she was received 
 with joy. The meekness and innocence of her 
 countenance was a passport into the hearts of 
 all with whom she conversed ; and the young 
 as well as the old, the rich as well as the poor, 
 applauded Mr. Bruce's prudent choice : and, no 
 doubt, conscious as he was of this world's vani- 
 ty, he pictured to himself a long perspective of 
 the purest and sweetest of earthly felicity. 
 And, indeed, if youth and health, the comforts 
 of plenty, wedded affection, mutual and fondly 
 cherished, founded on the best of motives, and 
 strengthened and tempered by the influences of 
 religion, together with the esteem and love of 
 neighbours, and peace with ourself and our 
 Maker, could warrant any man to hope for 
 much and long-lasting happiness under the sun, 
 surely Mr. Bruce might well entertain thig 
 hope. 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 5 
 
 In the pulpit, Mr. Bruce was truly the mes- 
 senger of God. He knew the dignity of his 
 office, and its awful responsibility ; and regard- 
 less of the face of man, with an earnestness 
 which was of the heart, and with a voice, and 
 look, and gesture, which suited themselves at 
 all times to his subject, he made known the mo- 
 mentous commandments with which his Master 
 had entrusted him, and enforced the practice of 
 them. Although he was by no means remiss 
 in setting before his flock the terrors of God's 
 wrath, which shall awfully fall on the finally 
 impenitent, his natural mildness of disposition 
 rather led him to enlarge on the eternal love of 
 God, manifested in the scheme of redemption ; 
 and to allure his people from the evil of their 
 ways, by painting the beauties of holiness, bring- 
 ing home to their minds the joy of peace with 
 God, and pointing their eye away to the re- 
 wards of immortality, tie rather drew his 
 flock after him, as with the suasive of irresisti- 
 ble melody, than drove them into the strait 
 path, by the frownings of offended justice, and 
 the threatenings of coming vengeance. 
 
 The abstract doctrines of Christianity he did 
 not leave untaught; but he urged incessantly 
 the practice of heart-felt godliness, faith in Jesus 
 Christ, love to God, and charity to man. He 
 never thought of wasting time, and defrauding 
 his hearers, by heaping together numberless 
 meanings for one passage of scripture, or in 
 proving what no one ever doubted, or in en- 
 deavouring to bring to the level of human capa- 
 city those truths of revelation which Infinity 
 alone can fully understand, and which we are 
 
6 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 
 
 rather commanded to believe than comprehend. 
 He did not so much give reason after reason, to 
 prove why God had a right: to enjoin this or 
 that duty, because he knew that few doubted 
 this right, as he set himself to persuade his flock 
 to the doing of it. What is practical in Chris- 
 tianity, he exhorted his people to practise ; what 
 is subject of credence merely, he believed, and 
 taught, others the reasonableness of believing 
 it, and its influence on the heart and life ; and 
 instead of bewildering himself, and producing 
 doubt and darkness in the minds of his auditors, 
 by entering boldly, like many divines, on the 
 explanation of what is in itself incomprehensi- 
 ble, he stood still, and believed, and adored, and 
 took from it a lesson of humilky. 
 
 But what, in his public ministrations, drew 
 every ear into attention, and, through the bles- 
 sing'of God, produced such effects on the heart, 
 was not more the soundness of his doctrines, 
 than the earnestness of his persuasions. His 
 was not the cold-hearted address of formality, 
 which suits so ill a servant of the ever-earnest 
 Jesus. He seemed to know the worth of an 
 immortal soul, and the value of eternal happi- 
 ness ; and he pleaded for God and truth, for 
 man's welfare here and hereafter, as one would 
 plead for the life of an only son. He taught, 
 he warned, he rebuked, he comforted, with his 
 whole heart ; and was not ashamed, that, like 
 his great Master, the tears of love and holy 
 sorrow should be sometimes seen weeping down 
 his cheek. 
 
 His daily manners suited his character in the 
 pulpit. He was grave, decorous, and affable ; 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 7 
 
 dignified without loftiness, ant] familiar without 
 meanness. He disgusted not the old by levity, 
 nor terrified the young by austerity. Regarding 
 himself as the spiritual father of his flock, and 
 naturally kind, he made the interest of all his 
 own. The child, as well as the man of gray 
 hairs, found in him a cheerful friend and a pleas- 
 ant instructer. Mr. Bruce spent much of his 
 time in visiting from house to house; a duty 
 enj )ined by the Bible, which the ministers of 
 the seventeenth century seem to have recog- 
 nised, or at least practised, better than those of 
 the nineteenth. Although his learning and cul- 
 tivated manners made him noways disagreeable 
 to the higher circles, and his duty sometimes 
 called him to mingle with them, yet you would 
 not always have seen him in the train of the 
 wealthy, or seated by the table of luxury. He 
 went about comforting the brokenhearted, in- 
 fusing the halm of heavenly comfort into the 
 wounded soul, and administering here and there, 
 out of his little income, to the wants of the 
 needy. He entered into the hut of widowed 
 loneliness, and took his station by the bed of 
 poverty in distress. The dying saint saw him 
 enter his chamber, and caught brighter views 
 of the land beyond the grave from his conver- 
 sation, and felt his faith increase in the earnest- 
 ness of his prayers. Nor did he pass by the 
 house where the wicked man lay on the bed of 
 death : but drew near his couch and labored, 
 with admonition, with prayer, with entreaty, 
 to turn the sinner's eye to the cross of Christ, 
 and save his soul from death. His character 
 was, indeed, a model which his parishioners 
 
"8 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 might have imitated with as much safety as 
 obeyed the doctrines which he taught. He 
 never thought of preaching humility, and yet 
 walking in the stately steps of pride ; of recom- 
 mending purity of heart, and yet indulging in 
 the pleasures of sense ; and of eulogizing and 
 enforcing charity, and yet shutting his own ear 
 to the cry of want. 
 
 While Mr. Bruce was thus engaged, feeding 
 his flock, and endearing himself to them by his 
 constant vigilance for their welfare, he enjoyed 
 the utmost domestic peace and happiness. Mrs. 
 Bruce's prudent management saved him from 
 all trouble with household affairs. His stipend 
 was small ; but she regulated her expenses ac- 
 cordingly. His manse, like many of the clergy- 
 men's houses in those days, was, when he 
 came to it, a very inconvenient and dull-looking 
 building ; and had been suffered, besides, to fall 
 into sad disrepair by the former incumbent, 
 who had lived a single life, and although pecu- 
 liarly careful of his charge, had minded little 
 about the comforts of his own house. The 
 rain found its way plentifully through the rag- 
 ged roof : the windows had, in many instances, 
 exchanged their glass panes for boards, or some 
 thing still less befitting, and were nearly dark- 
 ened by the honeysuckle and rose-trees which 
 had been left to spread at will. Up the walls, 
 too, clambered the dock and the nettle ; and the 
 little plot, which gently sloped from the door to 
 the river, was so overgrown with brushwood 
 and weeds of every description, that the passage 
 to the stream, in that direction, was almost 
 shut up. The inside of the house was in no 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 9 
 
 better a state. The cornice and plaster, in 
 many places, had fallen from the walls : the 
 floor was so decayed, as to endanger the fall of 
 those who walked on it ; and in the closets and 
 bedrooms spiders and other vermin had long 
 taken up their abode. 
 
 As Mr. Bruce was generally beloved, the 
 hciitors, of their own accord, fell about repair- 
 ing his house ; and, under Mrs. Bruce's care, 
 everything about the manse soon assumed a 
 livelier and more handsome appearance. The 
 vermin were driven from their settlements, the 
 windows filled with glass, and everything with- 
 in assorted with taste and elegance. The im- 
 provement was not less conspicuous without. 
 The little plot before the house was cleaned 
 of its brambles and weeds, and assumed the 
 smoothness of a bowling-green : the dock and 
 nettle were uprooted ; and the rose and honey- 
 suckle, although preserved with care, were now 
 taught to bend their branches in subordination 
 to taste and usefulness : the broad stone, which 
 lay immediately before the front door, and 
 which had been hid under a thick coat of dirt, 
 was cleaned and washed ; and indeed, all with- 
 out looked so cheerful, orderly, and comfort- 
 able, as well bespoke the peace, and concord, 
 and happiness that dwelt within. So inviting 
 the honest dwelling looked, that the traveller 
 would not have passed it, without wishing to 
 see its inhabitants ; and the weary wanderer 
 would have approached the door, in confidence 
 of a kind welcome to nourishment and rej>ose. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, as we have observed, as he had 
 no need, gave himself no trouble about house- 
 
10 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 hold affairs. His hours of leisure, which were, 
 indeed, but few, were therefore spent in some 
 innocent amusement. At these times, Mrs. 
 Bruce was always ready to attend him. Her 
 conversation, cheerful and varied, never failed 
 to refresh his mind when it had been exhausted 
 by study, and to restore it to tranquillity when 
 it had been disturbed by any unpleasing occur- 
 rence. Mr. Bruce was very fond of the simple 
 songs of his country ; and although his wile's 
 voice was not surprisingly fine, or her manage- 
 ment of it very tasteful, her singing would have 
 pleased any one who admired simplicity and 
 feeling. But her husband was delighted : for he 
 gazed on her with eyes of the tenderest affec- 
 tion while she sung to him the sweet melodies 
 of Scotland. Sometimes they read together in 
 some useful and entertaining book, sometimes 
 they walked by the banks of the Ayr, enjoy- 
 ing the loveliness of nature, and giving audience 
 to the song of the thrush and the blackbird, 
 that from the birch or hawthorn joined their 
 minstrelsy to the mellow pipe of the wind and 
 the purling voice of the stream. 
 
 To all these enjoyments were added, first a 
 son, and afterwards a daughter; the one, An- 
 drew, as every body said, the very image of 
 his father ; the other, Mary, no less the like- 
 ness of her mother. Eager to instruct all, Mr. 
 Bruce was doubly so with regard to his own 
 children. He observed with a father's and 
 Christian's eye the opening of their infant fac- 
 ulties, and, at an early hour, shed upon them 
 the light of truth ; and spared no pains to warm 
 their young and tender hearts with love to 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 11 
 
 God and religion. He taught them betimes the 
 way to heaven, setting their faces thitherward : 
 and it pleased God to bless his teaching, and 
 render it effectual. He taught them love to one 
 another, and to their fellow creatures. And he 
 turned the attention of their minds to those 
 pleasing and sublime ideas which the objects of 
 nature are fitted to produce. 
 
 Andrew, who seemed to resemble his father 
 in his mental as well as corporal parts, was 
 early designed for the ministry. His education 
 was, therefore, taken chiefly under the father's 
 eye ; while Mary learned the more gentle and 
 delicate accomplishments, befitting her charac- 
 ter, from her mother : and never had parents, 
 more comfort in instructing and watching over 
 their offspring. They loved their parents, and 
 did everything to please them : they loved each 
 other, feared God, and delighted in obeying his 
 will. They increased daily in knowledge and 
 stature, growing up like well-watered plants 
 which the Lord hath blessed. The rose of 
 health bloomed on their cheeks, and the sacred 
 spirit of religion looked already from their eyes. 
 
 Religion ! thou art happiness. Thou infus- 
 est the calm of heaven into the bosom of man, 
 and pours into his heart the sweetness of celes- 
 tial enjoyment. Thou hast, indeed, special 
 rewards to give in the land of glory. There 
 thou openest the arms of everlasting felicity to 
 receive all thy followers at last into the fulness 
 of its embrace : there thou securest them a 
 place by the font of original life. But thou 
 art even here infinitely superior to every other 
 thing in the purity and sweetness of thy t enjoy- 
 
12 THE PERSECb'-TED FAMILY 
 
 ments. Thou art thyself fair as the light of 
 God ; and thou stampest on all the pleasures 
 of thy sons the imagery of heaven, and minglest 
 them with the relishes of immortality. Wo 
 unto him that seeketh his happiness apart from 
 thee ! He shall be miserably disappointed. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ' Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, 
 By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour, 
 Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, 
 More skilled to raise the wretched, than to rise 
 To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given, 
 But all his serious thoughts had vent in heaven. 
 As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
 Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, 
 Though round its head the rolling clouds are spread, 
 Liernal sunshine settles on its head.' 
 
 FOURTEEN years had passed over this happy 
 family, when the Restoration threatened the 
 overthrow of the Scottish church. Charles, 
 advised by his English and Irish ministers, 
 Clarendon and Ormond, and latterly by Lauder- 
 dale, secretary ibr Scotland, introduced the 
 episcopal form of worship into Scotland. Pa- 
 tronage was renewed ; and the clergy were 
 required to procure a presentation from their 
 patrons, and collation from their bishops, to 
 acknowledge their authority, and the spiritual 
 supremacy of x the king. The clergy in the 
 northern districts complied without hesitation ; 
 but their more pious and zealous brethren in 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 13 
 
 the west, however willing they might be to sub- 
 mit to and support the civif authority of the 
 king, rejected his spiritual supremacy, refused 
 submission to the episcopalian judicatories, and 
 preferred rather to sutler the extremity of per- 
 secution, than to sacrifice what they deemed the 
 truth and their duty to God. The people were 
 no less averse from this encroachment on their 
 religious privileges, and resolved to imitate their 
 pastors, whose engaging familiarity, and sanctity 
 of manners, had gained them the esteem and 
 love of their flocks. 
 
 But if they had determined to suffer rather 
 than renounce the covenant and their beloved 
 presbytery, the bishops, who had now got all 
 power in Scotland into their hands, determined 
 no less the destruction of both. Burnet, arch- 
 bishop of Glasgow, and the apostate Sharpe, 
 primate of St. Andrews, with a cruelty little 
 becoming mitred heads, prepared to carry this 
 into effect. Ambulatory courts were establish- 
 ed on the principles of the Inquisition, in which 
 the bishops were the judges of those whom they 
 wished to destroy. No regard was had to re- 
 monstrance, or entreaty, or even to evidence. 
 To these courts the military were subordinate, 
 and instructed to carry their resolutions, which 
 were often formed in the midst of riot and 
 drunkenness, into execution. By this proce- 
 dure, three hundred and fifty clergymen were 
 ejected from their livings in the severity of win- 
 ter, and driven, with their families, to seek 
 shelter among the peasants. The most igno- 
 rant and vicious of their northern brethren, 
 who scrupled at no compliance, were thrust, 
 
14 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 by the strong hand of power, into their places. 
 The ignorance and shameful lives of these apos- 
 tates from the covenant, who were now meta- 
 morphosed into curates, disgusted the people 
 on whom they had been forced. Their doc- 
 trines had none of that heavenly relish which 
 suited the taste of those who had been formerly 
 '.aught by the best and most affectionate of 
 men. Their churches were deserted ; and the 
 people went into the mountains in search of that 
 water of life which no longer flowed from the 
 pulpits. 
 
 But this was only the beginning of their trials. 
 Their pastors were soon forbidden to preach 
 even in the fields, or to approach within twenty 
 miles of their former charges ; and all the peo- 
 ple, as well as their pastors, who were not pre- 
 pared to abjure their dearest rights, and to 
 submit to the most galling and iniquitous civil 
 and religious despotism, were denounced as 
 traitors, and doomed to capital punishment. 
 To admit any one who refused compliance into 
 shelter, to favor his escape, or not to assist in 
 apprehending him, subjected the person S3 con- 
 victed to the same punishment. To this, mili- 
 tary persecution succeeded. They were both 
 the judges and the executioners. The very 
 forms of justice were now wholly abandoned. 
 Gentlemen, and peasants, and ministers, were 
 driven out to wander among t le morasses and 
 nmmtains of the country ; were crowded into 
 ga )ls, sent int) exile and slavery, and multi- 
 tudes were daily writhing in the torture, or 
 perishing on the gibbet. Rapes, robberies, and 
 every species of outrage, were committed by the 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 15 
 
 soldiers with impunity. The west of Scotland 
 was red with the blood of its own inhabitants, 
 shed by their own countrymen. The spirits 
 of darkness seemed to have entered into the 
 bosoms of the persecutors, and to actuate all 
 their doings. They appeared to delight in 
 cruelty, and in shedding theTlood of the inno- 
 cent. But the glorious sufferers, reiving on 
 the goodness of" their cause, and hoping in the 
 promises of God, opposed sanctity of life to 
 licentiousness and rht ; the spiritual weajwws 
 of truth, to the swords of their enemies ; patient 
 endurance, to fatigue, and want, and toiture; 
 and calm resignation, to the most ignominious 
 deaths. And, truly, they suffered not or bled 
 in vain. God, at last, gave them the victory 
 over all their enemies ; and, through them, se- 
 cured to us the religious privileges we this day 
 enjoy. From this short sketch of the times, 
 which we thought necessary to explain what 
 shall afterwards occur, we return to that family 
 which we left so happy. 
 
 Among those clergymen who bravely refused 
 compliance with the iniquitous orders of gov- 
 ernment was Mr. Bruce. Although naturally 
 mild, an uncommon lover of good order, and 
 ready, at all times, to impress on his Hock the 
 duty of submission to all the lawful commands 
 of the civil authorities, lie could not think lor 
 a moment of violating his conscience, and uf 
 teaching his people to violate theirs, by forsak- 
 ing what he deemed his duty to his heavenly 
 Master. But there was only one alternative. 
 Either he must comply with the sinful and 
 tyrannical requirements of the bishops, in whose 
 2 
 
16 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 hands the civil power was, or relinquish his 
 pastoral charge, and quit his house and his 
 living. Mr. Bruce was not a man to hesitate 
 whether to seek the praise of men or the praise 
 of God. On the last Sabbath on which it was 
 permitted him to enter his pulpit, he thus took 
 farewell of his dear flock. 
 
 ( You know, my dear friends, 3 said he, ' what 
 orders I have received from the bishops, who 
 possess for the time the civil as well as eccle- 
 siastical authority. I am required to acknow- 
 ledge the king as supreme head of the church ; 
 to submit to the diocesan jurisdiction of the 
 bishops ; to be re-ordained and converted into a 
 curate, and to introduce the episcopal mode of 
 worship into this church. In a word, I am to re- 
 nounce presbytery: preach, not as the Bible and 
 my own conscience direct me, but according to 
 the wishes of a drunken and licentious court, 
 and the dictates of a self-interested and domi- 
 neering priesthood : And all this I am enjoined 
 to do, or leave you, my house, and my living. 
 
 6 You cannot * but know that I have deter- 
 mined on this last. I have not so learned my 
 duty, as not to be able to sacrifice a little of this 
 world's comfort for conscience sake ; and I 
 would rather that my tongue should be forever 
 dumb, than that it should utter one word from 
 this sacred place, merely to please men of power, 
 and secure my own worldly gratification. I can 
 part with the comforts of a home : but how can 
 I part with you, my dear friends : We have 
 lived together in the bonds of love. Every one 
 of you is endeared to me by some particular 
 kindness given or received. I have watched 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 17 
 
 over the childhood of many of you, and now 
 see you advancing in the knowledge of religion 
 as ye grow up to manhood. Others of you 1 
 have seen growing gray with years ; and I have 
 endeavoured to smooth your way, and stay 
 vour steps down the slope of time. " All of you 
 1 have cared for : all of you 1 have set my 
 heart upon : all of you have been to me as fa- 
 thers or sons, as brothers or sisters. How car/ 
 I part with you, my beloved Hock ? How can 
 I leave you, like sheep without a shepherd, 
 and like sheep in the midst of ravening wolves ? 
 O God !' he exclaimed, and the people rose up 
 as if by enchantment, ' O God ! who seest my 
 heart, thou knowest what love I bear to this 
 people : thou knowest how dear their souls are 
 to me. O hear my cry ! keep them from the 
 evil of the world, from the snares which are 
 laid for their feet ; and if they should never hear 
 the word of life from my lips again ; if thou hast, 
 in thy wise providence, wandering and weeping 
 prepared for them, O Father ! so watch over 
 their souls, that I may meet them all at last by 
 the right hand of their Saviour and my Saviour, 
 of their God and my God. Father in heaven, 
 into thy hands we commit our immortal spir- 
 its! 5 
 
 When he had thus spoken, he sat down in 
 the pulpit, and wept bitterly. Nor did he weep 
 alone. The man of gray hairs wept, and the 
 child sobbed by his side. And when they 
 looked to the holy man, whose sorrow was all 
 for them, and when they turned their eyes to 
 the seat, where his wife sat, bathed in tears, 
 and her children, Andrew and Mary, weeping 
 
18 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 
 
 aloud, and looking up to their father, and 
 when they thought, that they were to be driven 
 out from their happy home, to wander in pov- 
 erty, again their tears flowed, and again they 
 looked and wept. 
 
 Mr. Bruce was the first to recover some de- 
 gree of composure. He begged his sorrowing 
 audience not to give themselves up to vain 
 lamentations, but rather to be thankful for the 
 comfortable days they had- spent together ; to 
 be putting their hope and their confidence in 
 God ; and to be preparing for the sufferings to 
 which it was likely they would soon be exposed. 
 In surveying the aspect of the times, he said, he 
 had no doubt that the entire destruction of the 
 presbyterian church was meditated ; and a se- 
 vere persecution, he had every reason to believe, 
 was about to commence, in which their faith 
 and their patience would be put to a severe 
 trial. He advised them to be as inoffensive as 
 possible to the civil powers, and to give prompt 
 and cordial obedience to all their lawful de- 
 mands ; but exhorted them rather to suffer, 
 than renounce the covenant, or make the small- 
 est compliance in violation of their own con- 
 sciences, assuring them at the same time, if 
 they suffered now, they would rejoice hereafter. 
 God would remember every sigh, and treasure 
 up all their tears in his bottle. Their patient 
 endurance would tire out the arm of persecu- 
 tion. They would thus leave the blessings of 
 religious liberty to their posterity ; and if they 
 themselves suffered to the death, they would be 
 rewarded in heaven with a crown of life. 
 
 After this valedictory admonition and en- 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY J9 
 
 couragement, having recommended his flock 
 ag'iin to the care of Heaven, he descended from 
 the pulpit, amidst the weepings of his congre- 
 gation ; and when he had, with difficulty, with- 
 drawn himself from them, he retired, with his 
 wife and children, to his house. 
 
 In the pulpit, Mr. Bruce had carefully avoid- 
 ed making any allusion to his own family. His 
 feelings of sorrow, on their account, were of 
 that deep and sacred kind, which we rather wish 
 t > shut up in the sanctuary of our own hosoms, 
 than trust to the sympathy of the most confiding 
 friendship. How could he see her, who had 
 been long the companion of his life, endeared to 
 him by every tie that can draw kindred souls 
 into the closest fellowship, her who had been 
 ever used to the comforts of plenty, driven from 
 a home which she had made so comfortable, 
 exposed to fatigue, to houseless wandering, and 
 perhaps to want itself? How could he see his 
 dear children, whom she had nursed so tenderly, 
 and in whom resided his dearest earthly hoj)es, 
 turned out, unable as they were to provide for 
 themselves, on the sympathies of the world ? 
 He knew, indeed, that as long as he and his 
 family were permitted to wander among his 
 flock, they would be in no danger of want ; but it 
 was easy to read, from the face of the times, that 
 even this would soon be denied them : and he 
 already saw his family, in the forward eye of 
 imagination, suffering under all the evils of 
 insult and beggary. 
 
 On this subject he had not dared hitherto to 
 enter, even to Mrs. Bruce. She observed it, 
 
20 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 and was well aware of the cause ; and, anxious 
 to relieve his feelings, on the Sabbath evening, 
 while they sat in their snug parlor, ga/ing in 
 silent dejection on their children, she thus began 
 the conversation. 
 
 ' Do not be so sorrowful on our account, 
 dear James,' she said. ( I have shared in all 
 your enjoyments, and I can suffer with you too; 
 and so can these children. We may have 
 many hardships to encounter : but we will have 
 the approbation of our own minds : we will 
 have the protection of that God in whom we 
 have always trusted ; and we know that he will 
 not suffer anything effectually to hurt us. We 
 will have your love, my dear James ; and we 
 shall still be happy in sharing your trials, and 
 soothing your cares. 3 
 
 'Dearest Eliza, 5 said Mr. Bruce, e you are 
 indeed right. God will be our protector : why 
 should we hesitate to cast ourselves upon his 
 care ? 1 could have easily made up my mind 
 to this trial, but for you and these children. 
 But why should I cast one lingering look on 
 these comforts, which my Master hids me leave? 
 He can protect you as well as me. Under his 
 guidance we are safe. To-morrow we quit 
 this house, which is to be occupied by another ; 
 and let us quit it without a murmur. What is 
 the threatening or indulgence of this world to 
 us ? What are its joys or its pains ? To do 
 our duty to God, our Creator and Redeemer, 
 to love, to honor, and to obey him, this is 
 sufficient for us. He will see that no evil befall 
 us.' 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 21 
 
 Here Mr. Bruce paused for a little, and then 
 proceeded thus : 
 
 1 But let us act with prudence, my dear 
 Eliza. Might it not be proper for you and the 
 children to go and live with your friends at 
 Lanark for the present. You will then have a 
 settled home ; and I am sure you will he kindly 
 treated. For my own part, I am resolved to 
 continue among my flock, and to take every op- 
 portunity of serving their spiritual interests.' 
 
 * No, "no, 5 said Mrs. Bruce; 'we will not 
 leave you. I am determined to suffer with 
 you. Nothing but death shall part me from 
 you. J 
 
 ' But these children,' said Mr. Bruce; ' think 
 of them, dear Eli/a.' 
 
 ' They are stout and healthy,' replied Mrs. 
 Bruce ; * and you shall see how cheerfully they 
 will submit to everything, rather than part with 
 YOU. Will you leave your father, Andrew ? 
 Will you, Mary ? ' 
 
 c No, no,' they both exclaimed ; and, weep- 
 ing, clasping their hands about their father's 
 neck, alarmed to hear their mother speak of their 
 leaving him. 
 
 Andrew was at this time in his thirteenth 
 year, a fine smart-looking boy ; stout at his age, 
 his hair black and bushy, and his eye full, dark, 
 and penetrating. Of his talents we have already 
 spoken. They were of a high order ; and, un- 
 der his father's assiduous culture, he had already 
 made considerable progress in learning. Indeed 
 his acquirements of every kind were beyond his 
 years. His father was his only companion, as 
 
22 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 well as instructer ; and his attention had thus 
 been turned, at all times, to something useful. 
 His susceptible mind had rapidly imbibed his 
 father's ideas, and, in fact, had already stored 
 up most of his knowledge. In piety, irTthe love 
 of learning, in the amiableness of his disposition, 
 Andrew resembled his father ; but his mind 
 gave indications of more boldness and originali- 
 ty. Indeed, there already appeared in him a 
 decision of character, a steady adherence to his 
 resolutions, and a firm perseverance in the pur- 
 suit of whatever caught his attention, which, in 
 union with his religious spirit, promised a life 
 of the highest usefulness. 
 
 Mary, who was now in her eleventh year, 
 with cheeks fair and rosy, a fine soft blue eye, 
 and a profusion of golden ringlets flowing on 
 her shoulders, had all the light-hearted gaiety, 
 and innocent loveliness, which girls, properly 
 educated, generally have at that age. Impres- 
 sed thus early with the sacred ness of religion, 
 ii's purity seemed to beam from her eye. Her 
 iOve to her relations was in proportion to her 
 tenderness of heart. To please her mother, her 
 father, and her brother, to hear them say she 
 had done well, made her happy. A fairer and 
 a sweeter plant hath nature nowhere : and, in 
 the retirement ol'the secluded manse, she looked 
 like one of those flowers which the traveller 
 may sometimes meet in the desert ; so lovely, 
 that he cannot feel in his heart to pull it, and 
 yet knows not how to leave it behind. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, perceiving it was needless to say 
 anything more about his family leaving him, 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 23 
 
 turned their attention, for a considerable time, 
 to those truths of the Christian religion which 
 are best fitted to prepare us for bearing changes 
 and trials with fortitude and resignation. And 
 then the family, after joining, as usual, in the 
 worship of God, withdrew to repose. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He stablishes the strong, restores the weak, 
 Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart, 
 And, armed himself in panoply complete 
 Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms 
 Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule 
 Of holy discipline, to glorious war, 
 The sacramental host of God's elect !' 
 
 COWPIR. 
 
 EARLY on the Monday morning Mr. Bruce 
 and his family arose ; and having committed 
 their way to God, prepared to leave their house. 
 The furniture was dispersed among the neigh- 
 bours, except a few articles necessary for their 
 comfort, which were sent to Braeside, a farm- 
 house, situated in a romantic glen, about four 
 miles from the village, whither Mr. Bruce had 
 chosen to retire. Everything was soon put in 
 order for their departure. And now the vene- 
 rable pastor, with Andrew and Mary holding 
 each other by the hand, before him, and his 
 wife by his side, slowly and silently left the 
 manse. The two youngsters tripping on cheer- 
 fully, happy enough that they were going with 
 
24 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 their parents. Mrs. Bruce could not be very 
 sad when her husband was by her side : and 
 the minister had prepared himself too well for 
 this event, to show much uneasiness. Yet 
 neither he nor his wife could help dropping a 
 tear as they passed the church, and entered the 
 street of the little village, through which their 
 road lay. But the grief of the villagers was ex- 
 cessive. They saw their spiritual guide, their 
 comforter, their adviser, their friend, in the 
 coldness and severity of a winter morning, with 
 his wife and children, driven from his comfort- 
 able dwelling, and about to leave them. Would 
 he assemhle them no more on the Sabbath, to 
 refresh their souls with the water of life ? 
 Would they see him no more going from door 
 to door through the village, relieving the poor, 
 comforting the sick, and instructing all ? What 
 hardships would these children, and that amia- 
 ble woman, who although by no means un- 
 healthy, appeared to them so delicate, have 
 probably to endure ! And was his pulpit to be 
 filled, and his house and living seized, by some 
 time-serving, cold-hearted stranger ? 
 
 Full of these sorrowful thoughts, every in- 
 habitant of the village, both old and young, 
 crowded about Mr. Bruce and his family. So 
 anxious was every one to be near their beloved 
 minister, tha rthey eagerly pressed forward, and 
 often compelled him to stop. He conjured 
 them to leave him : but it was not till they had 
 accompanied him more than a mile out o'f the 
 village, that he could prevail on them to think 
 of parting with him. Here he shook hands 
 with each of them j exhorted them to avoid all 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 25 
 
 evil ; and lifted up his voice and blessed them, 
 while they stood drowned in tears. 
 
 Now Mr. Bruce and his family, with a few 
 who had determined to accompany him, set 
 forward to Braeside, while the villagers and 
 peasants returned to their homes, sorrowing in 
 heart, and determined rather to suffer all, than 
 make any compliance to an ecclesiastical gov- 
 ernment, which had begun so harshly. Such 
 were many of the people, and such many of 
 their pastors, whom the unwise politicians of 
 those times thought to force into their measures 
 by the violence of persecution. Mr. Hill, the 
 farmer of Braeside, a worthy old bachelor, had 
 rendered his house as comfortable as he }>ossi- 
 bly could for the reception of the new-comers ; 
 and, with what articles they brought along with 
 them, and with Mrs. Bruce's ready hand, under 
 which everything about a house seemed at 
 once to take its proper place, they found them- 
 selves, although not very well lodged, yet as 
 well as they had expected. The house, how- 
 ever, like most of the farm-houses in those 
 days, had only two apartments, a kitchen and a 
 spence, as the room was called. The room 
 Mr. Hill gave them up entirely, and the kitchen 
 was common to him and them. Mr. Bruce 
 had been deprived of his stipend due for the 
 preceding year. It had been always small. He 
 was by nature, as well as principle, generous 
 and charitable, and had, therefore, saved no 
 money. It was evident that he must now de- 
 pend for his subsistence on the free-will offer- 
 ings of his people ; and in these they were not 
 backward. Although Mr. Hill was able and 
 C 
 
26 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 willing enough to support the family for some 
 time, this he was not permitted to do. Scarce- 
 ly a day passed but some of Mr. Bruce's flock 
 arrived at Braeside, with what they could 
 spare for their pastor (for such they still con- 
 sidered him) and his family. They had thus 
 a plentiful supply of all the necessaries of life. 
 The education of Andrew and Mary went on 
 as usual. Mr. Bruce preached in the houses 
 of the peasants, or in the open fields, on Sun- 
 days. Mrs. Bruce was kinder than ever to her 
 husband, and almost as cheerful. Andrew and 
 Mary were healthy and content ; and, indeed, 
 Avhile they were permitted to remain at Brae- 
 side, they had not much to complain of. 
 
 Meantime the violence of persecution every 
 day increased. The ejected clergy were for- 
 bidden to preach even in the fields : the people, 
 under the severest penalties, were forbidden to 
 shelter them, or even to give them a morsel of 
 bread. People of all ranks and conditions in 
 life, who would not comply with the tyranny 
 of the times, were driven from their houses, 
 and were every day perishing by the hand of 
 the executioner. 
 
 The curates, who had been thrust into the 
 livings of the West, were the most active in 
 informing against the covenanters. The zeal 
 and austere morals of the former pastors were 
 a continual reproach on the vicious habits and 
 indolent dispositions of many of those prophets 
 of Baal, as they were, not unfitly, called ; and 
 they wished to have that example, which they 
 were unwilling to imitate, out of their sight. 
 
 Mr. Macduffj the curate who had been put 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 27 
 
 into Mr. Bruce's place, was a Highlandman, 
 and really understood the English language, as 
 well as the Scotch, so ill, that the peasants 
 among whom he was settled, had they been 
 willing to hear him, could have understood lit- 
 tle of what he said. He was a robust hunts- 
 man-looking young fellow, as ignorant of books, 
 and all sorts of learning, as he was indecoroua 
 in character. He hunted, fowled, drank with 
 the officers who were stationed in the village, 
 and, in fact, did almost everything but what 
 was becoming the character of a clergyman. 
 The parishioners regarded him with horror, 
 and fled from his presence as they would have 
 done from a beast of prey. In no place in 
 Scotland were the curates well attended ; but 
 MacdufPs church was entirely deserted. Nei- 
 ther threats nor entreaties could induce as 
 many to collect on a Sabbath as to give the ap- 
 pearance of an audience. And, what has been, 
 perhaps, seldom attempted in any other place, 
 soldiers went every Sabbath morning through 
 the village, and, with their bayonets on their 
 guns, compelled a half score or dozen of the in- 
 habitants into the church, where they sat with 
 countenances of disgust and horror, while the 
 unsacerdotal curate went most indecorously 
 through the cold and formal service of the day. 
 Mr. Macduff, had, however, abundance of that 
 pride which is founded in ignorance : was natu- 
 rally cruel : devoted to the wicked government, 
 because he could expect only to be countenanc- 
 ed by such : obsequious to every mandate of 
 the bishops, because from them he held his 
 living ; and withal possessed of an unbounded 
 
28 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 hatred to the covenanters, because he knew 
 if they prevailed he would soon be displaced. 
 These qualifications rendered him fit enough 
 for the purposes for which his superiors had 
 chiefly designed him. These were, to harass 
 and destroy the presbyterians. 
 
 To assist the curates in gathering information 
 of the resorts and conventicles of the covenan- 
 ters, spies were numerously employed. Some- 
 times they mingled with the people, professing 
 themselves to be their zealous friends : some- 
 times they went through in the character of 
 travelling merchants ; and sometimes they as- 
 sumed the garb of shepherds, that they might 
 thus conceal their true character, and therefore 
 be admitted more freely into the designs of the 
 covenanters. Sharpe had multitudes of these 
 in his pay, scattered over the country. And it 
 is not surprising that they brought in abundance 
 of information, when we consider that many of 
 them, and those the vilest and most worthless 
 of men, were paid in proportion to the number 
 of accusations they preferred. These spies, as 
 long as the covenanters were brought to any- 
 thing like trial, were always witnesses at hand, 
 ready to swear anything against them. 
 
 Two of these wretches, in the pay of Sharpe, 
 were entertained by Mr. Macduff. Every day 
 they traversed, in one character or other, the 
 surrounding country, and always returned with 
 abundance of information. All was believedj 
 or, at least, pretended to be believed, that they 
 reported ; and the soldiers, with them for guides, 
 were sent forth, to plunder, to apprehend, to 
 torture, or kill, all whom those scoundrels ao 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 29 
 
 cused of presbyterianism, which in those days 
 was termed sedition. 
 
 Mr. Bruce and his family shared in the in- 
 creasing calamities of the times. Aller residing 
 a twelvemonth at Braeside, they were compel- 
 led to betake themselves to a wandering life. 
 Now sheltered in some barn : now in some 
 shepherd's hut ; and now exposed, without cov- 
 er, to all sorts of weather. The minister, 
 especially, and his son, who almost always ac- 
 companied him, were often compelled to hide 
 themselves in the caves and wild glens of the 
 country. The place whither they most fre- 
 quently resorted was a cave on the banks of the 
 Ayr, about five miles above the village. It had 
 been formed in the precipitous bank by the 
 hands of men, as a hiding-place in the former 
 troublous times of Scotland, and was roomy 
 enough for admitting five or six persons. The 
 entrance to this retreat was by rude and difficult 
 steps, cut out of the stone ; and over its mouth, 
 concealing it from the view, hung the straggling 
 branches of the birch and hazel, that had struck 
 their roots into the seams of the freestone rczk. 
 Two or three rude seats, some straw and blan- 
 kets, made up the furniture of the cave. Here 
 Mr. Bruce and Andrew, and indeed, Mrs. Bruce 
 and Mary too, often concealed themselves ; and 
 hither, in the darkness of night, did the peasants 
 of the surrounding country come with food for 
 their worthy pastor and his family, and to re- 
 ceive, in return, instruction, advice, and comfort. 
 
 This Mr. Bruce gave them with all the pru- 
 dence of a wise man, and all the earnestness of 
 
SO THE PERSECUTED FAM1LV. 
 
 a serious Christian. He exhorted them to have 
 all their trust in God ; to bear up, with becom- 
 ing cheerfulness against the severe trials to 
 which they were exposed. He called them to 
 remember how much Christ had suffered when 
 he was in the world, and with what calmness 
 and resignation he took it all. He warned them 
 to beware of attempting anything against the 
 government ; well knowing, however much he 
 might despise the exploded doctrine of nonre- 
 sistance, that the covenanters, deprived as they 
 were of the gentlemen of their party, who were 
 mostly in prison, could make no head against 
 their oppressors supported by a strong military 
 force. He counselled them to oppose patience 
 and hope to the swords of their persecutors ; 
 assuring them, that God would at length inter- 
 fere in their behalf. And, above all, he com- 
 forted and sustained the minds of the poor, 
 hunted, houseless peasantry, by often directing 
 their hopes to the rewards of immortality. 
 Nor did he destroy the effect of his teaching by 
 his own example. The following conversation 
 which happened one night in the forlorn cave, 
 will show how bravely the persecuted family 
 bore their lot. 
 
 The night to which we have alluded was in 
 the end of autumn. The minister, with his 
 wife and children, were seated in the cave. A 
 few embers burned on the floor, and half light- 
 ed the rude habitation, the Ayr was heard 
 murmuring down his pebbled bed, the wind 
 whistled in the mouth of the cave, blowing in 
 the fallen leaf that rustled about the floor, and 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 31 
 
 the lightning flashed, at intervals, its momenta- 
 ry gleam into the solitary abode. 
 
 ' Do you remember,' said Mary to her broth- 
 er, * how fresh and beautiful these leaves were 
 in summer?' lifting one that the wind rustled 
 through the dwelling. 'You remember how 
 we watched them as they spread, and shaded 
 the mouth of the cave ? J 
 
 'They were very beautiful,' said Andrew, 
 c and kept the wind out of the cave. But their 
 season is past, and we will see them green no 
 more.' 
 
 c And what should that remind you of?' said 
 Mrs. Bruce. c Should it not remind you of the 
 transitory nature of all earthly things ? We all 
 do fade as a leaf: we are cut down, and wither 
 as the grass. But the leaf hangs on the twig till 
 autumn ; and falls not till it is dried and wither- 
 ed with age. We, my dear children, may be 
 cut off in the midst of our days. From disease 
 we are never secure. But we may have soon 
 to die by the hand of violence. Are you pre- 
 pared, my dear children, to suffer all for Christ ? 
 Do you repine that you have been driven from 
 your home, to seek shelter in such a place as 
 this, for his sake ?' 
 
 ' I am as happy here,' said Andrew, f as when 
 we lived at the village. My father and you 
 have taught me to regard my duty to God as 
 the end of my being ; and I am resolved, trust- 
 ing in his grace, to suffer the utmost, rather 
 than violate it. I know he will give me strength 
 to do what he may have appointed me.' 
 
 c Yes,' said Mary, who was no stranger to the 
 Bible, ' His grace shall be sufficient (or us. I 
 
33 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 know what he says, " The Lord is nigh to all 
 them that call upon him, to all that call upon 
 him in truth. He also will hear their cry, and 
 save them.' 1 ' 
 
 c Yes,' said Mrs. Bruce, while her husband 
 shed a tear of joy, to hear his children talk thus ; 
 ' yes, if you put no trust in yourselves, if you 
 believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, he will give 
 you resolution and strength to suffer all for his 
 sake. " Whatsoever ye ask in my name," says 
 that Redeemer, who hath all power in heaven 
 and in earth, " Whatsoever ye ask in my name, 
 you shall receive it.' " 
 
 * Happy are all those who trust in God,' said 
 Mr. Bruce, taking up the conversation, while he 
 threw a glance of unspeakable satisfaction on 
 his family. t Happy are all they, whatever be 
 their external circumstances, whose God is the 
 Lord. We have, it is true, been driven from 
 the comforts of this world's prosperity ; but we 
 have, therefore, less to seduce us from the path 
 of holiness. We are exposed to trials ; but, 
 through His blessing, they will prepare us the 
 sooner for the enjoyment of his immediate 
 presence. We are exposed to the winds of 
 night ; but our souls take shelter under the 
 wings of the Most High. Our enemies are 
 strong, and exceedingly mad against us; but 
 He who is for us, is stronger than they who 
 are against us. Those lightnings that flash 
 athwart the night are the lightnings of God : 
 they say unto him, Here we are ; and, at his 
 bidding, can lay the pride of the wicked in the 
 dust. As his power is omnipotent to protect 
 you, my dear ones, so is his love infinite. It 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. S3 
 
 passeth all knowledge. We are lost in the con 
 templation of his astonishing love, manifested in 
 our redemption through his Son. He hath giv- 
 en his well-beloved Son lor us, vile and misera- 
 ble sinners ; and surely he will allow nothing 
 really to hurt us. What, then, should we not 
 rather do, than forsake our duty to him ? Se- 
 verer sufferings may be yet awaiting us, my 
 dear ones. But let us always lay the grasp of 
 Mir dependence on God ; let us have our eye on 
 the promised land, the dwelling of life and im- 
 mortality ; and let us suffer without a murmur. 
 O, my dear ones, in this trying time, may we 
 all so believe, and so do, that we may find our- 
 selves approved, when men shall be finally 
 judged. If anything should occur which ma^ 
 separate us, let us direct our steps to heaven, 
 where we shall meet, to part no more. Our 
 church is now driven to trie wilderness. Tht 
 blood of her people flows on the scaffold : thei. 
 groanings are heard in the desert. But God 
 hath not forsaken her : she shall yet shout for 
 joy, and clap her hands for gladness of heart 
 We may be gone, my dear ones, ere the day of 
 her mourning end ; but, by suffering cheerfully, 
 we shall have done our part : we shall have our 
 reward : and, when our church takes her sor- 
 rowful harp from the willow, and tunes it to 
 the melody of joy in the peaceful temple, our 
 memories shall not be forgotten.' 
 
 When Mr. Bruce had thus spoken, he kneel- 
 ed down with his family in the cave, and be- 
 sought for them the blessing, even life that shall 
 never end. And then you might have heard the 
 
84 THE PERSECUTED FAiMILY 
 
 psalm of praise mingling its holy melody with 
 the blast of night. 
 
 Still, Religion, thou art happiness ! Thou 
 hast, indeed, trials appointed for thy followers ; 
 but thou comest in the strength of God, and 
 leadest them out through them all. As the 
 darkness of the world thickens around them, 
 thou sheddest a hrighter light on the cloudless 
 clime whith or *b? f ~ are travelling. As the cup, 
 of which tixe wiu edness of man forces them to 
 drink, comes nearer the bitterness of its dregs, 
 thou pourest more copiously into their souls the 
 sweetness of eternal life. As they have days 
 of severe fatigue and wandering, and nights 
 more wearisome and watchful, thou layest the 
 repose of their souls nearer the hosom of their 
 God. Wo unto him who seeketh his happiness 
 apart from thee ! He shall be miserably dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 -Their blood is shed 
 
 Tn confirmation of the noblest claim, 
 
 Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, 
 
 To walk with God, to be divinely free. 
 
 Yet few remember them. They lived unknown. 
 
 Till persecution dragged them into fame, 
 
 And chased them up to heaven. Their ashes flew 
 
 No marble tells us whither.' 
 
 COWPEE. 
 
 FOUR years of suffering had now passed since 
 Mr. Bruce and his family were driven from 
 
THE PERSECt/rED FAMILY. 35 
 
 their comfortable home. But although many 
 of his flock had been thrown into prison, and 
 sent into banishment, had endured the cruelties 
 of torture, or died on the scaffold, and although 
 they had themselves often made the narrowest 
 escape from the vigilance of their fell pursuers, 
 none of them had yet fallen into their hands. 
 The time was not far off, however, when they 
 were to feel more severely, the cruelties of per- 
 secution. 
 
 On a Sabbath evening, in the month of Sep- 
 tember, Mr. Bruce, with his wife and children, 
 left the cave, to meet some of his flock in a wild 
 glen in the neighbourhood, where he was to 
 deliver a sermon. When they arrived at the 
 appointed place, there was about a score assem- 
 bled ; some of them stood, some seated them- 
 selves on the cold turf, while Mr. Bruce took 
 his station by a large stone, on which he rested 
 the Bible, and read, or rather repeated, for the 
 night was dark, the following verses from the 
 twenty-third psalm : 
 
 The Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want; 
 
 He makes me down to lie 
 In pastures green : he leadeth me 
 
 The quiet waters by. 
 
 My soul he doth restore again ; 
 
 And me to walk doth make 
 Within the paths of righteousness, 
 
 Even for his own name's sake. 
 
 Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, 
 Yet will I fear none ill : 
 
36 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 For thou art with me; and thy rod 
 And staff me comfort still.' 
 
 Then, as it is beautifully expressed by Gra- 
 hame, 
 
 -rose the song, the loud 
 
 Acclaim of praise. The wheeling plover ceased 
 Her plaint; the solitary place was glad; 
 And, on the distant cairn, the watcher's ear 
 Caught, doubtfully at times, the breeze-borne note.' 
 
 After this, Mr. Bruce lifted up their fervent 
 prayer to the throne of grace ; and then repeat- 
 ed his text, from the same psalm which had 
 been sung, ' Though I walk through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil : 
 for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they 
 comfort me.' 
 
 This consolatory passage be illustrated by 
 showing how they, who had the rod and staff 
 of the Almighty to support them, needed fear 
 no evil. This rod and staff, he showed, were 
 no less than the infinite love, and wisdom, and 
 power of God, engaged in the preservation of 
 the righteous. This truth he illustrated at con- 
 siderable length, and with more of elegance than 
 was common to the preachers of the time. We 
 shall content ourselves, however, by giving the 
 concluding part of the discourse. 
 
 * If then, 5 said the fervent preacher, ' we have 
 the love, and the wisdom, and the power of 
 God engaged in our protection, what have we 
 to fear from the cruelties of men, the malignity 
 of evil spirits, or the terrors of death itself? 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 37 
 
 His love fills our hearts with unspeakable de- 
 light, and secures us the guidance of his wisdom, 
 and the all-shielding covert of his almighty 
 power. If we had to set our faces to the machi- 
 nations of this world, under the direction of our 
 own wisdom, we would soon be entangled in its 
 snares, and decoyed into the pit which is dug 
 for our destruction. But to guide us through 
 every footstep of this earthly journey, to guide 
 us through every footstep of the dark pass of 
 death, we have the infinite wisdom of God, 
 which hath all things present to its eye in the 
 natural and moral world, in heaven, in earth, in 
 time, and in eternity. The most sagacious 
 spirit that contrives our ruin in the darkest 
 gloom of the bottomless pit, is noticed by our 
 God, and those means taken, which can never 
 err in their operation, to defeat its purposes 
 against us. He observes all the plottings of 
 man's wisdom against us ; and turns the best- 
 laid schemes of their wickedness to the profit 
 of his people. The kings of the earth set them- 
 selves, and the rulers take counsel together, 
 against the Lord, and against his Anointed. 
 But he that sitteth in the heavens laughs : the 
 Lord hath them in derision. He casteth the 
 glance of his all-comprehending intelligence 
 through all the varied workings of natural and 
 moral being, the most intricate, the must pro- 
 found, the most secret : and the wisdom of the 
 wisest agency, that acts not by his guidance, 
 seemeth to him the folly of fools. 
 
 8 But, however ardent the love of God might 
 be to his children, however provident his wis- 
 dom, if there was any being that could resist 
 
58 THE IjffftSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 his power, still he would not be safe. But our 
 Father hath in himself all the resources of infi- 
 nite might. In the Lord Jehovah is everlast- 
 ing strength. He hath created all things. The 
 arm of his omnipotence sustains them all. 
 Turn your eyes to the stars, that look through 
 the breaking of the clouds : the multitude of 
 their host, are suspended to the girdle of his 
 strength, and guide all their revolutions to the 
 bidding of his will. He bringeth forth Mazza- 
 roth in his season, and guideth Arcturus with 
 his sons. He stilleth the raging of the waves : 
 and the fierceness of the storm lays itself to rest 
 at the whisper of his word. And shall any 
 other of the beings he hath made, the spirits 
 of darkness, or the worms of this footstool, 
 stand up in proud rebellion against him, and 
 try to wrest the people whom he loves, the 
 people for whom he hath given his own Son, 
 out of his hand ? Did Pharaoh's or Senna- 
 cherib's hosts accomplish aught victoriously 
 against his children ? Did the powerful and 
 malignant dealings of Satan touch the life of 
 Job ? No, my friends. In the estimation of 
 our God, the strength of man is less than 
 weakness ; and the most stout-hearted of the 
 spirits of perdition trembles at the uttering of 
 his voice, and is held fast in the chains of his 
 power. It is this God, my friends, who is our 
 God. It is this all-wise, all-mighty being, who 
 hath sworn by the eternal Godhead, that he 
 who perseveres in well-doing, who fights the 
 fight of faith, and turns not back, shall sing 
 victory over all his enemies, and shall inherit 
 glory, and honor, and immortality. 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILT. S9 
 
 ' We are persecuted, my friends ; we may 
 soon have to lay down our lives. But let us 
 lean on the rod and the staff of our Redeemer ; 
 and whatever be the cunning of man's con- 
 trivance against us, it shall be turned to our ac- 
 count ; and whatever be the shape that death 
 may assume, we shall behold him shorn of his 
 terrors. O, my friends ! let us do what the 
 Bible hath taught us to be our duty ; let us keep 
 our conscience inviolate : and whatever may be 
 appointed for us here, we shall have the welcome 
 of our Father and Redeemer at last into the 
 dwellings of immortality.' 
 
 When Mr. Bruce had finished his sermon, so 
 well calculated to encourage the minds of hi.s 
 suffering audience, he took occasion to speak 
 shortly of the times, the substance of which we 
 shall record. 
 
 It was easy to see, he said, that the presbyte- 
 rians would yet be persecuted with still greater 
 severity : that their persecutors wished to grati 
 fy their ambition and avarice with the spoils of 
 the covenanters ; and it was hard to say how 
 r ar these passions would carry them. It had 
 oeen the labor, he observed, of the Stuarts, for 
 several reigns, to get into their hands the eccle- 
 siastical supremacy in Scotland. They had 
 hitherto been disappointed, and would, he had 
 no doubt, be so still. * That infatuated race,' 
 continued he, * seems to be hastening its own 
 ruin.' And the venerable pastor dropped a tear, 
 as he thought of the incurable folly of that 
 house. The nation, he could see, would tire 
 of oppression, and would most certainly assert 
 its liberties. Oppression would, as usual, de- 
 
40 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 Btroy itself by its own cruelties. But, for the 
 time, that patience and hope must be their sup- 
 port : that anything attempted against their op 
 pressors, when they were in no state for it, 
 would only render their condition more intole- 
 rable : that ready submission, for the time, to 
 everything that violated not conscience, and 
 patient endurance of those evils which were 
 measured out to them, were the means which, 
 under the blessing of God, would at length 
 most certainly restore to them and their child- 
 ren, the blessings of civil and religious liberty. 
 
 Such were this man's sentiments, on whose 
 head the infatuated administration of the time 
 had set a price, as a rebel and a sower of sedi- 
 tion : and such were the sentiments of many of 
 those heroes of the covenant, whom some his- 
 torians represent as the visionary and fanatic 
 leaders of a visionary and fanatic sect. We do 
 not pretend to say that the sentiments of all the 
 covenanters were as moderate and just as those 
 of Mr. Bruce. Among a great number, there 
 will always be weak and turbulent minds ; and, 
 under severe sufferings, they will be driven to 
 extravagance. The calumniators of the cove- 
 nanters ought to remember, that none of them 
 became bad subjects till oppression had render- 
 ed them desperate ; and that, if some of them 
 latterly adopted not very rational sentiments 
 about civil government, the great body of the 
 presbyterians who suffered at that time approv- 
 ed as little of their notions as their persecutors 
 did. 
 
 The little congregation had again joined in a 
 song of praise, and the minister was just about 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 41 
 
 to dismiss them with the blessing, when sud- 
 denly they heard the trampling of horses, and, 
 in a moment, saw advancing rapidly towards 
 them, with lighted torches in their hands, a 
 number of dragoons. Not exj)ecting any alarm 
 at such an hour and place, they had neglected 
 to appoint a watch. A little eminence, which 
 the soldiers had been taught by the spies, who 
 aoieu as* their guides, to keep between them 
 and the conventicle, had concealed from them 
 the light of the torches, until the dragoons were 
 almost upon the little assembly. Short as the 
 time was before the soldiers could reach them, 
 they fled into a morass, near to which they for- 
 tunately were ; and the softness of the ground 
 prevented the pursuit of the horsemen. But 
 when the commanding-officer saw that they 
 were likely to escape, naturally cruel and blood 
 thirsty, and chagrined at the loss of his prey, 
 he ordered his men instantly to discharge their 
 carabines, after the flight of the poor people ; 
 and, without, waiting to examine the result of 
 his orders, wheeled and rode off. 
 
 Several of the people were hurt, but Mrs. 
 Bruce received a mortal wound. ' I am gone,' 
 she said, while her husband caught her in his 
 arms to keep her from falling. ' I am killed. I 
 must leave you. O, my dear husband ! I leave 
 these children to your care : I leave you all to 
 the care of my God ! ' She tried to say more ; 
 but death was too near. She threw one look 
 on her son and daughter : clasped her hands 
 convulsively about her husband, and expired in 
 his arms. 
 
 Mr. Bruce for some time held her fondly in his 
 
42 THS rs-SECUTED FAMILY 
 
 embrace, and stood speechless and motionless. 
 Andrew wept not ; but threw himself on the 
 ground in the depth of silent grief. Mary 
 shrieked, and took hold of the bloody corpse of 
 her mother, while the peasants gathered round, 
 and wept in silence. 
 
 It was some time before any one could find 
 sel (-command enough to speak. Andrew, whose 
 vigorous mind would not permit him to give 
 himself long np to unavailing sorrow, was the 
 first to break me mournful silence. 
 
 ' Father, 3 ru* said, ' let us now consider what 
 is best to be done. We cannot stay here. 5 
 
 Mr. Bruce, at ti ese words of his son, recov- 
 ering himself a 't.t !e, Wretched the bloody corpse 
 on the heath, ajd lifbng up his hands to heav- 
 en, in a tone of resignation, said, 'The Lord 
 giveth, and the Lord ta.-^eth away : blessed be 
 the name of the Lord!' 
 
 After a short c nsultation, it was determined 
 to carry the dead body to a neighbouring hut. 
 Assisting in turn u carry the corpse, they took 
 their way over the broken mosses to the place 
 agreed on. On their arrival, the first thing was 
 to settle where the body should be interred. 
 Mr. Bruce wished to be present at the inter- 
 ment ; but this he could not be if they buried 
 the remains of his wife in the village church- 
 yard : for he was sure to be apprehended if he 
 appeared so publicly. And yet he thought it 
 was something disrespectful to bury her in the 
 moor. 
 
 ' It matters not,' said Andrew, when he saw 
 his lather's hesitation ; * it matters not where 
 our bodies rest. There is no distinction of 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 43 
 
 place in the grave. Is it any difference to my 
 mother where we lay her ashes ? God will 
 have his eye upon them ; and angels will hold 
 the place in honor. For my part, had I my 
 choice, I would rather be laid at last in the 
 solitary glen of the moor, than be entombed 
 amidst the mockery of funeral j>omp, and have 
 the marble monument to record my praise. 5 
 
 * You are right my son,' replied his lather. 
 ' The grave is a bed of rest to the just. Their 
 bodies rest in hope ; and it matters not where 
 they lie.' 
 
 It was now resolved that the remains of Mrs. 
 Bruce should be buried next evening ; and the 
 place appointed for laying them to rest was near 
 to where she hail been shot. 
 
 When they had thus settled, and after join- 
 ing in prayer with the sorrowing few who had 
 accompanied him to the hut, Mr. Bruce, sad in 
 heart, withdrew to the cave ; for the search after 
 him was so vigilant, that he durst not remain a 
 night even in this remote and lonely hut. Ma- 
 ry refused to leave her mother's corpse ; and 
 Andrew staid to watch over and comfort his 
 sister. 
 
 Next evening, Mr. Bruce returned to the 
 hut. About twenty peasants had assembled. 
 A rude coffin had been prepared : and, under the 
 covert of night, the mournful procession moved 
 slowly towards the place of interment. The 
 clouds, clothed in the sombre garments of 
 mourning, stood still in the heavens : and here 
 and there, from out their rifted sides, peeped a 
 solitary star, with an eye that seemed to weep 
 as it looked on the wasteful heath, and glim- 
 
44 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 mered on the sorrowful countenances of the 
 mourners. Sadly down their glens murmured 
 the streams of the wilderness ; and the woful 
 voice of the snipe traversing the wide air, the 
 forlorn whistle of the plover, and the melan- 
 choly sound of the wind, that now and then 
 rose on the heath, fell on the ear of Mr. Bruce 
 like the accents of some doleful prophecy, pre- 
 saging to him and his family the coming of a 
 still more wasteful desolation. 
 
 When the procession arrived at the place of 
 interment, which had been chosen near to 
 where Mrs. Bruce had been murdered, a grave 
 was dug, into which the coffin was et down, 
 and the attendants covered it u.> ; while Mr. 
 Bruce and his two children watered with their 
 tears the cold earth, that now hid from their 
 eyes the one who was dearest to their souls. 
 ' But there is a joy in grief, when peace dwells 
 in the bosom of the sad.' They sorrowed not 
 as those who have no hope. Mr. Bruce wip- 
 ed the tear of affection from his eye, and thus 
 addressed the peasants, who could not refrain 
 their tears, as they stood around, and looked 
 on the grave. 
 
 c Weep not, my dear friends,- said the resign- 
 ed man : c she hath done her part well. She 
 loved her God, and served him ; and he hath 
 now taken her to himself. Happy they who 
 are thus taken from the evils of this world ! 
 Although we have been compelled to do our 
 last office to her under the darkness of night ; 
 although we have erected no marble to record 
 her memory, she shall b? i,cid among the hon- 
 orable of heaven. Le. as too be prepared to 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 45 
 
 lie down in the grave. If we be fitly prepared 
 for this, it matters not when or in what man- 
 ner we die. The sooner we reach our Father's 
 house the better. But we must fight out our 
 day, like the true soldiers of Jesus Christ. We 
 must not repine that he keeps us long from our 
 home. He knows best when to call us home 
 to rest. Let us in his strength, fight the gixxl 
 fight of faith. Let us abstain more carefully 
 than ever even from the appearance of evil. 
 Let us devote ourselves wholly to God. Let 
 us, my friends, be prepared to die well, that, 
 when the earthly house of this tabernacle shall 
 he destroyed, we may, like all the righteous, 
 have a building with God, an house not made 
 with hands, eternal in the heavens.' 
 
 When the minister had thus said, he bade 
 the peasants farewell ; and with Andrew and 
 Mary returned to the cave. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 * The clouds of winter gather: fast the leaves, 
 One after one, fall from the storm -beat tree 
 And o'er the humbled face of Nature flap 
 The wings of Desolation. 'Tis the hour 
 And power of darkness. Men of evil life, 
 Of horrid cruelty, now compass round 
 The just man's bed, with chains, and swords, and death.' 
 
 ANON. 
 
 IN the meantime, an incident took place in 
 the south of Scotland, which rendered the con- 
 dition of the covenanters more intolerable. 
 
46 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 The persecutors in that quarter had laid a 
 heavy fine on a poor old man ; and, being una- 
 ble to pay it, the soldiers bound him ; and, re- 
 gardless of his prayers and tears, were dragging 
 him to prison, when a handful of peasants, who 
 had gathered around, pitying the poor man, 
 and indignant at the cruelty of such a proceed- 
 ing, set violently upon the soldiers, and rescued 
 the prisoner. Aware that no pardon could be 
 expected for this action, they took arms to de 
 fend themselves. Their number, small at first, 
 soon increased to nearly two thousand ; and, in 
 the heat of their rage, they determined to march 
 to Edinburgh, to compel the government to 
 redress their grievances. The wise and the 
 prudent among them saw the impolicy of this 
 attempt, and tried every means to dissuade 
 their friends from their rash purpose. They 
 represented the strength and discipline of the 
 king's forces ; and their own want of arms and 
 discipline, and the impossibility of procuring 
 skilful commanders, as the gentlemen of their 
 party in the West were either in confinement 
 or had fled out of the country. They exhorted 
 them rather to disperse, and seek shelter from 
 the cruelty of their oppressors in flight, and 
 hiding, than thus, unprepared as they were, to 
 rush on certain destruction. Moreover, they 
 affirmed, that it would be more consistent with 
 the spirit of Christianity, yet to try to procure 
 a mitigation of their sufferings by petition and 
 entreaty. 
 
 Nevertheless, the multitude, afraid to lay 
 down those arms they had once taken up, their 
 minds rendered desperate by suffering, and en- 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 47 
 
 couraged by some of the less prudent of their 
 pastors, directed their march towards the capi- 
 tal. This was the very point which the perse- 
 cuting government aimed at. They wished to 
 have some better pretext than they yet had to 
 plunder and ruin the presbyterians. 'They had 
 often attempted, by their emissaries, to excite 
 some insurrection. This their own cruelty had 
 now produced. And a band, which, at the 
 most, was never more than two thousand, and 
 which had taken arms without any previous 
 concertment, was magnified, by the reports of 
 the oppressors, into a general and preconcerted 
 rebellion of all the West. 
 
 The result of this insurrection is well known. 
 Having reached the neighbourhood of Edin- 
 burgh, reduced, by fatigue or fear, to less than 
 half of their former number, and having effect- 
 ed nothing to better their condition, they were 
 returning peaceably home by the Pentland Hills, 
 when they were pursued and set upon by Dal- 
 ?.iel, at that time commander of the king's forces 
 in Scotland. They fought for some time with 
 more spirit than could have been expected from 
 men in their forlorn situation : but a party of 
 soldiers, from another quarter, coming behind 
 them, they were thrown into disorder, and put 
 to flight. Fifty were killed on the spot, (where 
 a very handsome monument has since been 
 erected to their memory ;) some fell in the pur- 
 suit ; and a considerable number were taken 
 prisoners. These were treated without mercy. 
 Ten of them were executed on the same scaf- 
 fold, and their heads and hands sent to Lanark, 
 where, in passing, they had renewed the cove- 
 4 
 
48 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 nant. Besides these, many were sent into the 
 west country, arid executed before their own 
 doors. 
 
 The persecutors had now got, as we have 
 already mentioned, the pretext they wanted ; 
 and they hesitatrd riot to proceed to the most 
 wanton and most inhuman cruelties. Daniel 
 and Drummoiid who were now the command- 
 ers of the military in the West, added the fe- 
 rocity of the Muscovites (in which service they 
 had for some time been) to the cool arid inflexi 
 ble cruelty which characterized the persecutors 
 in general. Dragoons were stationed in every 
 village : and even the private men had power 
 to shoot, without any form of trial, all who re- 
 fused to take the test to government. In no 
 place were the poor scattered members of Scot- 
 land's church safe from the vigilant search of 
 their enemies. The ejected clergymen, espe- 
 cially, were pursued with unremitting diligence ; 
 and, among these, none were hunted with 
 greater eagerness than Mr. Bruce. 
 
 The curate, Mr. MacdufT, who had succeed- 
 ed to his place, as he disliked all the covenant- 
 ers, so he hated Mr. Bruce with a perfect 
 hatred. He considered this worthy man, whom 
 he knew to be still lurking about the parish, as 
 the chief cause of preventing the people in that 
 quarter from complying with the established 
 form of worship. The villagers, too, were 
 sometimes bold enough to contrast, even to his 
 face, his character with that of their former 
 minister. These things were sufficient to irri- 
 tate an ignorant and cruel being, such as Mr. 
 Macduff was, to implacable resentment against 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILT. 49 
 
 Mr. Bruce ; and he determined to have him 
 cutoff. Night and day, the two spies, whom 
 the curate still entertained, were in search of 
 him : and their search was the more diligent, 
 as government had not only offered a conside- 
 rable reward for his apprehension, hut Mr. 
 Macduff had promised them a handsome sum 
 himself, if they would bring him certain intelli- 
 gence how this good man might be taken. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, although he seldom left the 
 bounds of his former charge, had still however, 
 eluded their search. He was so esteemed and 
 beloved by the peasants among whom he wan- 
 dered, that they would have cheerfully risked 
 their own lives to procure the escape or con- 
 cealment of their pastor. And what was very 
 surprising, such was the faithful secrecy of the 
 inhabitants of the place, to whom alone it was 
 known, that although Mr. Bruce had, for seve- 
 ral years, made the cave the place of his fre- 
 quent resort, it had never been discovered by 
 his enemies. An occurrence at length took 
 place, through which the persecutors hoped to 
 secure the apprehension of Mr. Bruce. 
 
 Andrew had one afternoon left his father and 
 Mary in the cave, to amuse himself, as he fre- 
 quently did, with the conversation of a shej>- 
 herd, who kept his flocks hard by. Scarcely, 
 however, was he half a mile away from the 
 cave, when a party of soldiers, with Macduff, 
 came suddenly upon him. They had been out, 
 we believe, chiefly, that day, for the purpose of 
 killing wild-fowl ; but, at the same time, they 
 required every one they met to take the test, 
 an oath by which the party swearing renounced 
 
50 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 the covenant, owned the king as supreme head 
 of the church, and tendered submission to the 
 then existing ecclesiastical establishment. An- 
 drew, without hesitation, refused to comply. 
 According to the laws, or rather to the lawless- 
 ness of the times, this refusal authorized the 
 soldiers to shoot the young man on the spot. 
 But although his dress was that of a peasant, 
 they remarked something so superior and strik 
 ing in his countenance, as well as in the man- 
 ner in which he spoke, which immediately led 
 them to the suspicion that he might be the son 
 of some gentleman of rank in disguise, from 
 whom useful discoveries might be elicited, or 
 on whose account a handsome sum of money 
 might be extorted. 
 
 Induced by those considerations, they spared 
 his life for the present, and conducted him a 
 prisoner to the village. On their way thither, 
 they repeatedly endeavoured to learn his name ; 
 but Andrew, knowing well that if they once 
 knew whose son he was, he should have no 
 chance of escape without discovering his father, 
 was careful to conceal his name. When they 
 reached the village, however, the inhabitants 
 gathered round to see the prisoner ; and, per- 
 ceiving the son of their beloved minister, they 
 assailed the soldiers with the most bitter execra- 
 tions, exclaiming that the judgment of heaven 
 would fall upon them ; and crying, at the same 
 time, ' Will ye murder the son of our dear min- 
 ister ? Ye have already murdered his wife, and 
 is your cruelty not yet glutted ? ' 
 
 When Mr. Macd'uff heard these words, < The 
 son of our minister, 5 he looked to Dalziel, who 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 81 
 
 was himself of the party, and said with a smile 
 of grim satisfaction, ' We have made good 
 sport to-day. We shall now get on the scent 
 of the old fox.'* 
 
 Dalziel now asked Andrew if he was the son 
 of the rebel Mr. Bruce ? tor so he termed this 
 meek and peaceable servant of Jesus. Andrew 
 replied boldly, ' I am the son of Mr. Bruce.' 
 This short answer, and the tone and expression 
 of countenance with which it was uttered, con- 
 vinced Dal'/iel that they had got a youth to 
 deal with from whom severity would not be 
 likely to elicit much. 
 
 They now shut up Andrew in the church, 
 which for some time had been more used as a 
 prison than a place of worship ; and having 
 placed a guard, retired to consult how they 
 might best draw the desired intelligence of Mr. 
 Bruce from his son. 
 
 The brutal MacdufT was for proceeding im- 
 mediately to torture ; hut Dalziel, who had bet- 
 ter observed Andrew's spirit, resolved to try 
 him first by gentle means. Accordingly, he re- 
 turned to the young man, and addressed him in 
 the following manner : 
 
 ' Your refusing to take the test, young man,' 
 said Dalziel, ' you know, according to the laws 
 of your country, forfeits your life ; and you 
 might he led, without further delay, to execu- 
 tion. But we have no desire to proceed to such 
 an extremity with you. Your appearance has 
 
 * The curate's language, which would be ridiculous 
 if introduced as he used it, I have translated into 
 English. 
 
52 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 gained you our respect ; and -we have a strong 
 wish to mitigate the rigor of the law in your 
 case. But this we are not authorized to do, 
 without some little submission on your part. 
 We shall not require of you, however, to take 
 the test, since it seems to be so unacceptable to 
 you. If you will only tell us how we may find 
 your father, you may have your liberty ; and 
 you need not be afraid of your father's life. He 
 has, indeed, rendered himself obnoxious to gov- 
 ernment ; but we promise that his life shall be 
 safe. We shall be careful that nothing worse 
 happen him than a short imprisonment. 5 
 
 To these arguments, he added, that if the 
 young man could find it agreeable to make the 
 necessary compliances, and if he liked the mil- 
 itary life, he would endeavour to procure him 
 some honorable post. Or, if he rather wished 
 to prepare himself for the church, he would re- 
 commend him to those from whom he might 
 expect preferment. 
 
 Andrew, distrusting the promises Dalziel had 
 made concerning his father, as much as he de- 
 spised the offers proposed to himself, looking 
 firmly in the soldier's face, absolutely refused to 
 make any discovery of his father. 
 
 c Torture,' exclaimed Macduff, who stood by, 
 ' will make you reveal what our mercy has fail- 
 ed to do.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Dalziel, e we still promise that 
 your father's life shall not be touched. But if 
 you will not make the discovery we want, we 
 have torture prepared that shall make you speak 
 out And if you still persist in your refusal, 
 your own life shall pay for your obstinacy 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 63 
 
 We leave you till to-morrow morning to consid- 
 er, whether you will accept your own liberty, 
 with no serious danger to your father, or expose 
 yourself to torture and death, which may, per- 
 haps, not preserve him long from our hands.' 
 So saying, the inquisitors withdrew, to spend the 
 night in mirth and revelry. 
 
 Andrew, who had no doubt that the promises 
 made concerning his father would be broken the 
 moment his persecutors had it in their power, 
 determined, without hesitation, not to say a 
 single word that might lead to his apprehension. 
 Aware also, that what had been threatened 
 against himself would be most certainly execu- 
 ted, he prepared for meeting it like a man and a 
 Christian. 
 
 As it chanced that night, there was no prison- 
 er in the church except Andrew. In and around 
 the church, as it stood at a little distance from 
 the village, all was stillness, save when it was 
 broken by the guard chanting a verse of a song, 
 or cursing the times, which kept them on foot at 
 midnight. The interior of the building was 
 faintly lighted by the moon-beams that glim- 
 mered through the old gothic windows. From 
 the windows Andrew could see the manse, half 
 concealed amidst aged trees. He saw, too, the 
 pulpit, where from his father's lips had often 
 dropped the word of life. He looked to the seat 
 where he used to sit with Mary and his mother : 
 he cast his eye on the manse, where they had 
 lived so happily. But his mind soon hurried 
 from these objects to what the family had suffer- 
 ed since persecution had driven them from their 
 home. They had wandered on the mountains 
 
54 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 they had endured cold, and fatigue, and fasting : 
 at midnight, in the depth of winter, they had 
 been often unsheltered from the severity of the 
 weather. His mother, so tender, so affection- 
 ate, had already fallen by the hands of their 
 persecutors ; and her ashes lay cold in the lone- 
 liness of the moor. His father and sister were 
 at this moment lurking in a forlorn cave, and in 
 bitterness of soul on his account. He himself 
 was a lonely prisoner : to-morrow to feel the 
 agonies of torture, and to be cut down like a 
 tree in the verdure of spring. These were the 
 sorrowful and oppressive thoughts which forced 
 themselves on the mind of the young man. 
 
 Andrew, as we have already said, had by na- 
 ture sufficient of that boldness and fortitude of 
 spirit, which bends not easily beneath misfor- 
 tune : and the many sufferings and hardships he 
 had endured, had only served to call forth and 
 strengthen the natural firmness of his mind : 
 For although trying circumstances may depress 
 and overwhelm the weak and the timid, they 
 never fail to summon forth the energies and 
 heighten the courage of a vigorous spirit. 
 
 But Andrew trusted not to the bravery of 
 human strength. He set himself not, like the 
 distressed hero of romance, to call up the natu- 
 ral fortitude of his soul, and to prepare to meet 
 all the evils that were gathering around him in 
 the strength of man-created might. He had 
 been taught, that the strength of man is weak- 
 ness ; his wisdom folly ; and all the resolutions 
 of his natural bravery, fear and trembling at the 
 approach of death. And he turned himself to 
 the throne of that God whom he had always 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 55 
 
 served, knowing he had sufficient help to give 
 in every time of need ; and in the fervor of con- 
 fiding prayer, sought the protection of % his JXDW- 
 er, which no being can resist ; the guidance of 
 his wisdom, which never errs ; and the com torts 
 of his free grace, which can never be exhausted. 
 He had seen the wickedness and deceitfulness 
 of his own heart : he had been made acquainted 
 with the strictness and purity of God's law ; 
 and he thought not of preparing to meet hU 
 God in the uprightness of his own character. 
 But he looked with a humble and believing eye 
 to the cross of Christ; and on the atonement 
 which he has made, he placed all his hopes of 
 justification and acceptance witli God. Verily, 
 ne put no trust in an arm of flesh ; but he took 
 unto him the whole armor of God : his loins 
 girt about with truth ; having on the breast- 
 plate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the 
 helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. 
 While the afflictions of this world were thicken 
 ing around him, and the terrors of death before 
 his face, he had the peace of God dwelling in 
 his heart, the hope of eternal life brightening 
 in heavenly vision ; and he could sing, in prison, 
 and in the loneliness of midnight, The Lord 
 is on my side ; I will not fear what man can 
 do unto me. Yea, though I walk through the 
 valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
 evil ; for thou art with me : thy rod and thy 
 staff they comfort me. He felt that, strong in 
 the all-sufficiency of God, nothing could seduce 
 him from his duty ; none of the powers of 
 wickedness could wound his soul. Verily, the 
 Christian's weapons, 
 
66 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 from the armory of God, 
 
 Are given him tempered so.* 
 
 While Andrew was engaged with such 
 thoughts as these, his father and sister, in the 
 solitude of their cave, were deeply afflicted on 
 his account. The shepherd, to meet whom 
 Andrew had left them, observed him apprehend- 
 ed, and carried the tidings to his father. Mary 
 wept for her brother as if he had been already 
 dead ; and Mr. Bruce feared the worst. He 
 knew, and he was proud at the thought, that 
 Andrew would not renounce his religion. He 
 was well aware, also, that no mercy from the 
 persecutors was to be expected for his son. 
 Those into whose hands he had fallen, he could 
 easily foresee, would leave no cruelty unexer- 
 cised against the son of one who was so hated 
 by them, and whose life they had so eagerly 
 sought. The distressed father thus looked 
 upon the death of his son as almost certain. 
 And, if ever a father had reason to love a son, 
 or be grieved at the intimation of his untimely 
 death, that father was Mr. Bruce. 
 
 Andrew was an only son. From his child- 
 hood, till the present time, when he was in his 
 nineteenth year, he had been his constant com- 
 panion. He had watched with the tenderest 
 care the developement of his faculties ; turned 
 their energies into the proper channel ; and he 
 had feen his care rewarded, by the rapid pro- 
 gress his son had made in the acquirement of 
 knowledge. His talents, the acquisitions he had 
 already made, his love of learning, and his de- 
 voted ness to religion, warranted the highest 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY". 57 
 
 hopes of his future usefulness and respectability 
 in the world. 
 
 This was enough to render Andrew peculiar- 
 ly dear to his father. But he had more than 
 this to draw his son nearer to his heart. An- 
 drew had heen his companion in suffering : and 
 the calm and unmurmuring manner in which 
 he had endured the severest hardships, had not 
 only taught his mother and sister to bear their 
 afflictions with patience, but even Mr. Bruce 
 had frequently learned courage and constancy 
 from his son. Those who have suffered much 
 together, have had opportunities of remarking 
 one another's qualities, and of endearing them- 
 selves to each other by numberless offices of 
 kindness, which can never have occurred to 
 those who have passed all their days in prosperi- 
 ty. These opportunities had been too often af- 
 forded to the minister and his family. Andrew 
 had gradually become the second hope in which 
 they relied. In all his wanderings, he had 
 scarcely ever left his father's side. He had 
 watched with him, at cold midnight, on the side 
 of the mountains and in the glen of the desert : 
 he had fled with him, from the fell pursuit of 
 the enemy, exposed to the storms and darkness 
 of winter : he had hungered with him, he had 
 mourned with him, he had endured every hard- 
 ship with him : and, in all, he had been his 
 father's comforter, and had showed him the 
 most ardent filial affection. It was this sou 
 whom Mr. Bruce was now, in all likelihood, to 
 see taken from him by the merciless hand of 
 persecution, in the very spring of his days. 
 And we need not wonder, if he found it hard, 
 
58 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 in this instance, to submit with resignation to 
 the unsearchable appointment of Heaven. 
 
 But, if the trial was severe, he had the best 
 comfort which a parent can have, when he sees 
 a beloved child about to be wrested from him by 
 the hand of death. He had every reason, how- 
 ever, to believe, that whatever his enemies might 
 accomplish against the life of his son, his soul 
 would be received into the bosom of his God. 
 
 Now consoling himself and his daughter with 
 those sure and certain consolations, derived from 
 that trust and confidence in God, which the 
 holy scriptures point out as the duty of every 
 Christian, under the most severe afflictions, 
 now turning to the throne of grace, in prayer 
 for his son, and again giving way to all the 
 depth and bitterness of paternal sorrow, he 
 spent the night in the gloomy cave, hoping, 
 sometimes, that the morrow's light would bring 
 him an account of his son's escape ; and yet 
 fearing, oflener, it would announce his death. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 -suffering for Truth's sake, 
 
 Is fortitude to highest victory. 
 
 And, to the faithful, death the gate of life.' 
 
 MILTON. 
 
 NEXT morning, Dalziel and MacdufT entered 
 the church ; and the former instantly asked An- 
 drew, if he had come to a resolution about what 
 had been proposed last night ? 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 59 
 
 ' My duty was so plain,' said Andrew, ' that 
 it required no deliberation. 1 am prepared to 
 die.' 
 
 * But you are, perhaps, not prepared for tor- 
 ture,' said MacdurF, with a grin of fiendlike ma- 
 lignity, pointing to a thumbkin, which one of 
 the spies, whom we formerly mentioned, held 
 in his hand, by the curate's side. * That will 
 make you speak out.' 
 
 Andrew glanced an eve of scorn on the curate, 
 looked without emotion at the instrument of 
 torture, and remained silent. 
 
 Dalziel then asked nlm, if he would not send 
 some one to his father, to persuade him to deliver 
 himself up to them ? again repeating the prom- 
 ise of safety to his father's life. 
 
 ' Thrust your sword through my body,' said 
 Andrew; * but think not to extract from my 
 lips one word, by a ~ the tortures which you can 
 inflict, that may lead to the discovery of my fa- 
 ther. My onlv frar is, that he may hear of ray 
 danger and deliver up himself.' 
 
 * Try that on vour thumb, then,' said Dalziel, 
 ordering the spy. at the same time, to apply the 
 instrument of torture, while the dragoons, that 
 kept guard, hex: the young man to prevent re- 
 sistance. 
 
 The thuniSkin was an instrument of exqui- 
 site torture ; ana on this occasion it was applied 
 without mercy. For sometime Andrew bore 
 the pain it occasioned with a firm and unchang- 
 ing counter rce; but, as the instrument was 
 screwed closer and closer to his thumb, the 
 color in his lace came and went rapidly, and 
 he writhed himself with the agonizing pain. 
 
CO THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 Dalziel, seeing it was in vain to expect any 
 discovery, was just about to order the tormen- 
 tor to desist, when Macduff prevented him, by 
 saying, l Another twist yet ; it may have more 
 virtue in it. 5 The obedient spirit of wickedness 
 turned the screw : and the thumb of the young 
 man was heard crashing within the instrument. 
 Nature could bear no more. The blood entire- 
 ly forsook his face, and he fell down in a swoon. 
 
 Fearing that their hopes of yet eliciting some- 
 thing might be disappointed by the immediate 
 death of the sufferer, they hastened to relax the 
 instrument. And as soon as Andrew had re- 
 covered a little, he was again asked whether 
 he would endure the same again, or discover 
 his father. 
 
 ( You may torture me to death, 5 said he, in 
 a firm and resolute tone ; ( but. I trust in God, in 
 the Rock of my Salvation ; and you cannot 
 touch my soul. It is covered by the shield of 
 the Almighty. You shall not wring one word 
 from me to endanger my iather. The Lord 
 comfort him.' 
 
 Having tried the torture again, with the same 
 effect, Dabiel, by nature and habit cruel, and 
 enraged that his cruelty had entirely failed in 
 the purposes for which it had been exercised ia 
 this instance, ordered the young man to be im- 
 mediately led forth to execution ; alleging An- 
 drew's refusal to take the test as a ground i : *i' 
 this proceeding, although the true reason \v&3 
 his refusal to discover his father. Hanging, as 
 being the most ignominious of deaths, was u.at 
 appointed ibr Andrew : and the gibbet, on 'iivis 
 occasion, was an old elm-tree, near the manse, 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 61 
 
 under which he and Mary had often frolicked 
 in the days of their childhood. He had just 
 been led to the foot of the tree, and the spy, 
 who was the only one to be found who would 
 undertake the task, was fixing the fatal rope to 
 one of its branches, when the attention of all 
 present was suddenly arrested by the appear- 
 ance of a young woman, who, screaming wildly, 
 rushed through among the soldiers, and clasped 
 her arms around Andrew's neck. 
 
 This was his sister. One of the villagers, 
 who, on the preceding night, had learned the 
 determination of Dalziel with regard to Andrew, 
 before day, went to the cave, and informed 
 Mr. Bruce. 
 
 * I will go and put myself into their hands, 1 
 exclaimed Mr. Bruce, as soon as he heard the 
 tidings. ' Better that I die than lose my son. 1 
 And he was making to leave the cave, for this 
 purpose, when Mary laid hold of him, and be- 
 seeched him not to go. 
 
 * They will murder you both,' said she, weep- 
 ing ; * and what shall become of me ? Rather 
 let me go. I will plead for my brother's life ; 
 and surely I will move their compassion.' 
 
 ' No,' said her father : you know them not. 
 The tiger of the desert hath more of compassion 
 than they. I know with what violence they 
 hate me and my family. No, no : nothing but 
 my death will save my son. But why do 1 
 thus tarry here f Perhaps they lead him out 
 even now to execution.' 
 
 ' Go not, my father, I beseech you,' said 
 Mary. ' Do you think that your death will 
 save Andrew ? O no, my dear father : they 
 
62 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 
 
 will murder you both. I shall he left alone in 
 the workl. Be persuaded, my dearest father. 
 Let me gi. I am sure they will have pity on 
 us. J 
 
 Mr. Bruce, considering that it was indeed 
 likely that his delivering himself up would not 
 procure rhe liberty of his son, a spirited young 
 man, deeply imhued with principles at enmity 
 with tne existing establishments, and imagin- 
 ing that the tears and entreaties of Mary, which 
 appeared to him so eloquent, might excite some 
 compassion in the hearts of those into whose 
 hands Andrew had fallen ; and taking pity on 
 his Daughter, who, he saw, would be left in a 
 state of distraction if he went to give himself 
 up, looked sorrowfully upon her, and, wiping a 
 tear from his eye, said, 
 
 ' Go, then, my daughter : But stop, I may 
 lose you too. Who knows where their cruelty 
 may "end ? But, no, no. They will have pity 
 on your youth and your tears. Surely there 
 is not, in the form of man, aught so cruel that 
 will murder my children. God will protect 
 vou. Haste you, my daughter. It is your 
 'brother's life that calls you. Haste to the vil- 
 jage ; and the Lord be with you and my son.' 
 The distressed father then knelt, to wrestle at 
 the throne of grace : while Mary flew, with the 
 speed of lightning to the village. 
 
 She arrived, as we have seen, just soon 
 enough to have an opportunity of trying what 
 her entreaties could do. The apparatus of 
 death, which she noticed at her approach, and 
 her brother, standing bound between two sol- 
 diers, had so terrified her, that it was some 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 63 
 
 time before she could so recover herself, as to 
 be able to speak. 
 
 1 You have come,' said Andrew to her, when 
 she had recovered a little ; * you have come to 
 afflict yourself in vain. My death is deter- 
 mined. 5 
 
 * No, they will not kill you,' replied his sis- 
 ter : * these men will ivt kill you. And then 
 falling on her knees before Dal'/ iel, whom she 
 knew, by his dress, to be of highest authority, 
 and with tears fast flowing down her face, more 
 lovely in grief, thus addressed him : 
 
 1 Have pity on my brother. If you knew 
 how my father and I love him, you would not 
 kill him. I am sure he has never hurt you. 
 Ever since we were driven from the manse, he 
 has lived peaceably in the moors. He has liv- 
 ed with me : and \ never saw him do injury to 
 any one. Have pity, sir, on our family. You 
 have already taken our dear mother from us : 
 and will you now take from me an only brother, 
 t.nd from my father an only son ? O, sir, have 
 you no son, that you may know what my fa- 
 ther will feel ? Have you no brother, dear to 
 you as mine is to me ? My dear, dear broth- 
 er ! O, let him go, and I will die in his place ! J 
 
 These words, when uttered by Mary, were 
 eloquent ; and Dabiel felt some movements of 
 humanity within him. 
 
 ' If your father will put himself into our 
 hands,' said he, { we will save the life of your 
 brother.' 
 
 'Wicked and unfeeling wretch !' exclaimed 
 Andrew, interposing here; 'wicked and inhu- 
 5 
 
64 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 man wretch ! wouldst thou have her save her 
 brother's life at the expense of her father's ? 
 Nor would you set me at liberty, though my 
 father were in your hands. Entreat them no 
 more, my dear sister, Weep not for me. 1 
 suffer with joy, for the glory that is before me. 
 Leave me, dear Mary. Go ; and if ever you 
 see our father, tell him I died with joy for the 
 liberties and religion of Scotland. Tell him 
 not to regret that he did not deliver himself 
 up. It would have been certain death to him, 
 and would not have saved me. Tell him, that I 
 am prouder to lay down my life for him, and 
 for the righteous cause in which Scotland suf- 
 fers, than if I had been lifted up to the loftiest 
 pinnacle of human distinction. Dear sister, be 
 you comforted. I go to our mother. I go to 
 the enjoyments of heaven. You and my fa- 
 ther will soon follow : and there we shall again 
 dwell together in peace, far beyond the change 
 and turbulence of time.' 
 
 Dalziel had been, as we have already observ- 
 ed, rather moved by Mary's entreaties ; and 
 still, as he saw her turning from her brother's 
 embrace, and again casting herself down before 
 him in the agonies of unspeakable grief, he felt 
 something like the kindliness of compassion 
 hovering about his heart ; and he looked to 
 Macd ufF, with an eye that said, ' Might we not 
 have some mercy on this girl ? ' 
 
 The curate with a look of horrible ferocity, 
 and in a tone of reproach, replied, ( Will you 
 be drawn from your duty by the snivelling of 
 girls ? If you pardon rebels for their tears, 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 65 
 
 you will surely be accounted a very merciful 
 man ; and the government will certainly sus- 
 Jain the grounds of pardon.' 
 
 Dalziel, as if ashamed that he had shown he 
 yet possessed some little human feeling, with- 
 out waiting a moment, ordered the executioner 
 to proceed. At this word, Mary shrieked wild- 
 ly, fainted, and was immediately carried towards 
 the village by some women who had gathered 
 around her on her arrival. 
 
 Andrew now mounted the scaffold, which had 
 been erected beside the old elm. Here he was 
 again asked, if he would not save his life, by 
 complying with the terms formerly offered 
 The young Christian, strong in the might ot 
 God, regarding his tempters with a look of in- 
 dignation, remained silent. * Prepare, then, in- 
 stantly to die,' said Dalziel. 
 
 Andrew kneeled down ; and, having recom- 
 mended his soul to the care of his God, he arose, 
 and exclaimed, < Farewell, my father,' as if he 
 could have heard him. * Farewell, my sister. 
 The light of the sun, the hopes of earth, fare- 
 well ! And, O, holy Father, ere I depart, hear 
 my cry. In thy mercy, haste to deliver the 
 suffering people of Scotland. Now, welcome 
 death ; and welcome eternity ! ' When he had 
 thus said, the executioner did as he had been 
 ordered : and the soul of this Christian hero 
 fled away to receive the crown of life. 
 
 What suffering was here ! What did a fa- 
 ther and a sister feel ! And how might they 
 have escaped it all ? If they had deserted the 
 cause of liberty and religion ; if they had sub- 
 mitted tamely to those chains, which a licentious 
 
66 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 and tyrannical government had forged for them, 
 and which, but for their noble resistance, and 
 that of their fellow-sufferers, might have thir 
 day been fastened around our nocks, this per 
 secuted family might have lived in peace in their 
 manse, undisturbed and uninjured by the troub- 
 les of the times. But their souls despised the 
 thought. They had the glory of God in their 
 view, they had the liberty of their country at 
 their heart, they had the welfare of us, their 
 posterity, before their eyes, and, without a 
 murmur, they laid down their lives in the 
 righteous cause. 
 
 Is there no one that loves to wander about 
 Ziion, 'and the flowing brooks beneath, that 
 wash her hallowed feet,' and to sing on sa- 
 cred harps the achievements of the saints ? Is 
 there no one warmed with the flame of their 
 devotion, and touched near the heart with their 
 patriotic sufferings, that will twine laurels to 
 their sacred memory into the sweet numbers 
 of immortal melody ? Is the theme not soft 
 enough for the refined ear of modern taste, or is 
 it too sacred for the song of the bard ? But 
 why should we call for the poet's lyre ? Even 
 now, their praises sound from harps angelic: 
 ' What are these which are arrayed in white 
 robes ? and whence come they ?' t These are 
 they,' respond the choirs of heaven, { these are 
 they which come out of great tribulation, and 
 have washed their robes, and made them white 
 in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they 
 before the throne of God, and serve him day 
 and night in his temple : and he that sitteth on 
 the throne shall dwell among them. They 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILr. 67 
 
 shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, 
 neither shall the sun light on them, nor any 
 heat. For the Lamb, which is in the midst of 
 the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them 
 unto living fountains of waters : and God shall 
 wipe away all tears from their eyes.' 
 
 After the execution, Dalziel and Macduff 
 having stood for a little, glutting their eyes 
 with the effects of their cruelty, or rather, of 
 the government under which they served, Mac- 
 duff, sadly disappointed at the failure of this at- 
 tempt to draw Mr. Bruce into his hands, said 
 to Dalziel, c Might we not try what torture 
 would elicit from the daughter ? She might be 
 less obstinate ; or the father, moved by her 
 sufferings, might deliver himself up to us.' 
 
 f Inhuman man,' replied Dalziel, touched with 
 some compunctious visitings of nature, ' wouldst 
 thou lay thy hand on the distracted girl ? No. 
 I will not permit it. Let us find the father as we 
 may. But the daughter shall not be touched.' 
 
 Macduffi being thus reproved by one who 
 was noted for his inflexible rigor towards the 
 covenanters, ignorant, savage, crocodile-like as 
 he was, seemed to feel a slight movement of 
 shame ; and, without resuming the subject, said 
 to Dalziel, t Let us go and despatch the pris- 
 oners whom the soldiers brought in this morn- 
 ing.' 
 
 The corpse of the martyred youth was left 
 hanging upon the tree till evening, when some 
 of the villagers ventured to take it down ; and, 
 having dug a grave beneath the shade of the 
 elm, laid the remains of the son of their minis- 
 ter in the narrow house. 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ONE grand and peculiarly excellent charac- 
 teristic of the Christian religion is, that its re- 
 sources are always in proportion to the wants 
 of its true professors. If the wickedness and 
 cruelty of men gather about them with a more 
 frowning aspect, their Redeemer looks upon 
 them with a kinder countenance. If the ca- 
 lamities and sufferings of life embattle them- 
 selves thicker and thicker around them, the 
 objects on which they have fixed their hopes, 
 beyond the grave, come into a better light, and 
 fill their souls more abundantly with their heav- 
 enly relishes. 
 
 The truth of this remark was well illustrated 
 in the conduct of Mr. Bruce. When he re- 
 ceived the tidings of his son's death, with the 
 account of the unmurmuring and triumphant 
 manner in which he had closed his short life, 
 the resigned father, looking to heaven, said, 
 ' My son, thou hast died in a good cause. The 
 name of the Lord be magnified.' 
 
 Having uttered these words, he turned sud- 
 denly to the peasant, who had brought the sad 
 intelligence, and said, c My son is now safe ; but 
 where is my daughter ? Have they murdered 
 her too ?' 
 
 ( Your daughter,' replied the peasant, c is in 
 the village, with the old woman whom she 
 used to be so fond of. She was so overcome by 
 her brother's cruel death, that she remained for 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 69 
 
 some time in a state of insensibility : but she 
 is now recovered somewhat : although they are 
 afraid she is still in a dangerous condition.' 
 
 ' I knew it,' said Mr. Bruce, * I knew she 
 would never survive her brother's death. Her 
 heart was too tender. It is broken : it is broken. 
 O, my dear daughter ! must I lose thee too ? 
 My two children in one day ! ' ' O, Father in 
 heaven !' he then exclaimed, f thou knowest 
 what is best for me, and all that is mine. Do 
 with us as seemeth good unto thee.' And then 
 addressing himself to the peasant, said, ( Can 
 I not see her once ere she depart ? I must see 
 her. I will venture into the village under the 
 shadow of night. If I should fall into my ene- 
 mies hands, the Lord will deliver my soul.' 
 
 ' You must not venture,' said the peasant. 
 ' If you fall into their hands, we will all lose a 
 father, who is our instructor and comforter in 
 all our sufferings. Your daughter may soon be 
 able to meet you in a place where you shall be 
 in no danger.' 
 
 ( Nay,' said the affectionate father, s but I 
 must see her to-night. She hath need of com- 
 fort. Perhaps she will not see another day.' 
 
 c Well, well, reverend sir,' said the peasant : 
 c we will do all we can to get you into the vil- 
 lage safely. We will let you know when the 
 soldiers have gone to rest. Then will be the 
 safest time for you.' 
 
 Do accordingly,' replied the minister. I 
 will approach the village after night-fall, and 
 wait in the hazel glen till you or some of your 
 friends come to me. Go. and be mindful of 
 your appointment.' 
 
70 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 When Mr. Bruce was left alone, he ventured 
 out to the top of a hill hard by, whence he 
 could espy the grave of his wife, and the smoke 
 rising from the village, where his son had that 
 day been put to death, and where his dear 
 daughter, his only remaining earthly hope, lay 
 on a bed of distress : And, truly, it needed 
 something more than the mere firmness of na- 
 tural fortitude to sustain his spirit, while he 
 waited in anxious expectation the coming dark- 
 ness. 
 
 Mary, to whom we now return, when she 
 lived at the manse in peace, as we formerly re- 
 marked, was cheerful as the lark of the morn- 
 ing, and lovely as the flower on which hath 
 never breathed aught but the purest and gen- 
 tlest breezes from the chambers of the south. 
 And, till her mother's death, she bore all the 
 sufferings to which the family was subjected, 
 with little change of spirit ; and often did she 
 cheer their wanderings by the sallies of her in- 
 nocent mirth. Ever after her mother's death, 
 however, although her father watched over her 
 with the eye of a guardian angel, and her 
 brother tended her with the most vigilant affec- 
 tion, she had lost much of her cheerfulness, and 
 her health had been rather declining. The 
 circumstances in which the family had been 
 placed, had rendered her mother peculiarly dear 
 to her ; and her tender feelings never fully re- 
 covered from the shock they received by the 
 sudden and cruel death of her mother. And 
 now the still more untimely and cruel death 
 of her brother, together with all the affecting 
 circumstances with which it was connected, had 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 71 
 
 entirely overcome her. After she had been 
 carried into the old woman's house, and had 
 recovered from the swoon into which she had 
 fallen when she heard that her brother's death 
 was sure, she exclaimed, for some minutes, * My 
 brother ! my dear brother ! what will my fa- 
 ther do?' and then relapsed into the swoon. 
 During the whole course of the day, although 
 she had resorted to the treasures of comfort 
 that are laid up for all afflicted Christians, and 
 although the peace which is from above had 
 stilled the tumult of her soul, she fell at inter- 
 vals into fainting fits ; and as the evening and 
 night approached they came on oftener, and 
 continued longer. She felt that she was dying ; 
 and she had only one wish, she said, unfulfill- 
 ed, that was, to see her father. ' But he can- 
 not come here without endangering his life,' she 
 would say ; * and why should I wish him. I 
 shall soon see him in heaven. He will not take 
 care of himself when we are gone, and the per- 
 secutors will soon get him : but my father ia 
 prepared to die.' 
 
 At the approach of night, Mr. Bruce, anxious 
 to see his daughter, drew near the village. He 
 staid in the hazel glen, as agreed on, till about 
 midnight, when the peasant, faithful to his ap- 
 pointment, met him. As it happened, most of 
 the soldiers, who were quartered in the village 
 and its neighbourhood, had been sent the pre- 
 ceding day on a distant excursion, and had not 
 yet returned ; and the few who remained, the 
 peasant assured Mr. Bruce, had all retired to 
 rest. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, in coming to the house where ma 
 
72 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 daughter lay, passed the place where his son 
 was buried, and the church which he had so 
 often entered with holy joy ; and he saw the 
 manse where he had lived so happily with his 
 family. But these times were past. His Mas- 
 ter had called him to severer service. And the 
 worthy pastor, without giving way to the sad 
 reflections which every object about him tended 
 to suggest, hurried on to the hut where his 
 daughter lay. 
 
 When he entered the house, he beheld Mary 
 stretched on a humble bed, to all appearance 
 lifeless. C I am too late,' he said to the old 
 woman, and some of the neighbours, who stood 
 by. ' My daughter is gone. 5 ' We hope not, 
 sir, 3 replied the old woman. ( She has fallen 
 into a swoon : but she will recover yet.' 
 
 Mr. Bruce examined his daughter narrowly ; 
 and he could discover that life had not entirely 
 left its seat. Sometimes, however, he could 
 discern nothing but the paleness and stillness 
 of death about his dear child : sometimes a 
 slight quiver moved her lips and her eye half- 
 opened ; and he leaned over her and wept, pray- 
 ing that he might yet hear his daughter's voice 
 ere she departed. 
 
 After continuing nearly half an hour in this 
 state, she gave a deep sigh, and looked up in her 
 father's face. ' Are you there father ?' she 
 said. c I am now ready to die. They will tell 
 you,' continued she, looking to those who stood 
 by ; e they will tell you what my brother said to 
 me when I saw him last. Haste you, dear fa- 
 ther, from this place. They will torture you, 
 if they get you. Is it not night ? Leave me 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 73 
 
 before the day come. Dear father, I go to my 
 Redeemer : he is all my salvation, and all my 
 desire.' 
 
 * Dear daughter,' he said, grasping her hand, 
 and half embracing her ; ' dear daughter, what 
 can I wish more ? The Lord our God take 
 you to hims-elf.' 
 
 'Farewell, father,' Mary said. 'We shall 
 soon meet again.' 
 
 O, how lovely in that moment did she seem 
 in her father's sight ! Her eye, always beauti- 
 ful, shed, at its setting, the purity of heaven ; 
 and no earthly commotion stirred the compo- 
 sure of her cheek. For a moment she looked 
 on her father, not like the solitary star, which 
 looks by the skirts of the gathering clouds which 
 are soon to wrap it in darkness, but like the last 
 star of the morning, about to fade away into 
 the light of day. And now her eye closed : she 
 grasped her father's hand convulsively : it loos- 
 ened its hold : the last quiver forsook her lips ; 
 and her gentle soul fled far away beyond the 
 sufferings of time. 
 
 1 It is done,' said Mr. Bruce, still gazing on 
 his daughter : * it is done ; persecution hath ac- 
 complished its worst against me. But why 
 should I repine ? My dear family hath now 
 escaped from the evib to come. This world 
 was not their home. It was the country of 
 their enemies ; and blessed be the name of God, 
 that he hath so early taken them away from 
 suffering, to that place which his everlasting 
 iove hath prepared for them. I have now less 
 to care for in this vale of tears. Let me now, 
 Holy Father,' said he, lifting up his hands to 
 
74 THE PERSECUTED FA MILY. 
 
 heaven ; let me henceforth have nought but 
 thy glory before me. In thy name and strength 
 let me fight out the Christian warfare. Make 
 me more and more the comforter and helper of 
 thy scattered people ; and if thou shouldst de- 
 liver me up to my enemies, give me to die with- 
 out a murmur in the cause of my country's 
 liberty.' 
 
 After uttering these words, Mr. Bruce desir 
 ed that the corpse of his daughter should be in- 
 terred as privately as possible ; and taking leave 
 of the sorrowful few who had gathered around 
 him, immediately left the village, and returned 
 toward the place of his concealment. 
 
 The objects of nature had early made a deep 
 impression on the mind of Mr. Bruce ; and his 
 manner of life, spent for the last six years 
 amidst its wildest scenery, had still deepened 
 this impression. Night, as it was the only time 
 in which he could venture safely abroad, had 
 especially engaged his contemplation ; and often, 
 in his nocturnal discourses, did he turn the at- 
 tention of his audience to the grandeur of that 
 magnificent temple in which they met to wor- 
 ship God. 
 
 Notwithstanding the losses he had sustained 
 that day, Mr. Bruce, resigned to the will of 
 God, and having the Christian's peace in his 
 bosom, as he walked towards the cave, could 
 ook with his usual relish to the magnificence 
 of the starred canopy, and the shadowy gran- 
 deur of nature around him. And as he ascend- 
 ed, with a peasant who accompanied him, an 
 eminence near his cave, he made the following 
 reflections, standing lonely on the hill with 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 75 
 
 no wife no child remaining but standing firm 
 and dignified, like the oak of the mountains after 
 its leaves have been torn away by the violence 
 of the tempest. 
 
 Turn your eye to those stars,' said he to 
 the peasant, * that look forth like angels* eyes 
 from heaven. How pure and tranquil they 
 seem ! None of the storms which agitate this 
 bwer world disturb them. They shone on the 
 beings that trod this waste a thousand years 
 ago ; and still they shine on us. Do not their 
 serenity and duration seem to write a satire on 
 the tumult and brevity of the life of man ? 
 How much of his folly have they seen : How 
 little of his wisdom ! How much of his cruelty 
 to his fellow creatures : How little of his brotH- 
 erly affection ! How many have they seen 
 going forth, under their holy light, with the 
 dagger of vengeance, to carry into execution the 
 dark plots of wickedness : How few have they 
 noticed crossing the valleys of earth on errands 
 of mercy ! How many deluded human beings 
 have they observed bowing down to stocks 
 and stones : How few bending the knee sin- 
 cerely to the living and true God ! Yes, they 
 have seen hundreds of generations bustle away 
 the little hour of their vanity and they have 
 seen their everlasting destiny sealed : And yet 
 man is still as foolish as if none had ever proved 
 to him that he must die. He grasps at the 
 shadow of earth's happiness, more fleeting than 
 that which the passing cloud casts yonder on the 
 heath. And so eagerjy does he run after the 
 spectre, that neither the tears nor the execrations 
 of thousands dying under his feet, nor the sword 
 
76 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 of eternal wrath which gleams over his head, 
 can stop him in his frenzied pursuit. Sure 
 there is something miserably wrong in the hu- 
 man heart. Surely the true eyes of the human 
 understanding have been indeed put out. The 
 shadow that falls from yonder mountain, and 
 hides the vale in gloom, is itself brightness, 
 compared with that cloud that broods on the 
 human mind, and benights all its faculties. 
 So dreadfully dim is mortal vision, that it can- 
 not discern the glory of God himself, even when 
 he comes to redeem, to forgive, and to save. 
 O, when shall that star arise, which led the 
 wise men of old to the manger of Bethlehem, 
 and guide the way of every man to the feet of 
 Jesus ! who, although he created the heavens, 
 and heard the harps of angels sing his glory di- 
 virie, died, to make us wise unto salvation :* 
 Surely the time will come, for the Lord hath 
 sworn it, yea, he hath sworn it by himself, when 
 the earth shall return to its allegiance, and be 
 cured of its folly.' 
 
 Here the holy man looked to his companion, 
 whom he had forgotten in his contemplations ; 
 and casting his eye of faith far into days yet to 
 come, and filled with the blessedness which the 
 promises of God have pledged to the world, 
 exclaimed, c Yes, my friend, we have the God 
 that made all these worlds to support us. We 
 have his promise, that truth shall ultimately 
 prevail. Let us boldly do our duty, that we 
 may be partakers of that joy unspeakable, which 
 shall fill the hearts of the just, when all shall be 
 complete in Christ, and when these stars shall 
 away, at his second coming. 5 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 77 
 
 When Mr. Bruce had withdrawn his mind 
 from these contemplations, he parted from the 
 peasant, and returned to the cave, by wife or 
 child no longer made cheerful. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AFTER the loss of his family, Mr. Bruce con- 
 tinued to instruct and comfort his scattered 
 flock with more assiduity and zeal than ever. 
 The sufferings he had endured had given a bold- 
 er and firmer tone to his character. The more 
 he saw the devastations of cruelty and tyranny 
 spreading around him, the warmer his heart 
 glowed with the love of liberty, and the bles- 
 sings which accompany it. The lovely flowers, 
 which, that he might guard and cherish them, 
 had hitherto rendered him more careful of him- 
 self, were now gathered into a place of safety. 
 With nought to bind him to earth, but an 
 ardent desire to instruct and counsel the pres- 
 byterians, so as they might best attain the glo- 
 rious purposes they had in view, he now ven- 
 tured forth boldly, and seized with eagerness 
 every opportunity of strengthening and conso- 
 ling them. Thus employed, for a considerable 
 time, he wandered from place to place, always 
 visiting, as often as he durst, the people of his 
 former charge. 
 
 But, in proportion as Mr. Bruce became 
 more conspicuous among the persecuted party, 
 the malignity of his enemies, and their exertions 
 
78 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 to cut him off, increased. And what they had 
 so long and so eagerly sought was now drawing 
 near. 
 
 One Sabbath evening, in the depth of win- 
 ter, he met, according to a previous appoint- 
 ment, a few of his own flock, in a remote house, 
 not very far from the place where he had so 
 often concealed himself. There he preached a 
 sermon ; and, as if he had felt some presenti- 
 ment that this sermon would be his last, he ex- 
 horted his hearers, towards the close of his 
 discourse, with extraordinary warmth and en- 
 ergy, to be faithful to the death, to live peace- 
 ably, to bear all with patience ; assuring them 
 that God would most certainly plead his own 
 cause, and deliver his servants from oppression. 
 He represented how much Christ had suffered 
 for them, and with what meekness and resigna- 
 tion ; what blessings they would secure to 
 posterity, and what rewards they would them- 
 selves receive, by bearing nobly up against the 
 storm that beat on them so severely. On leav- 
 ing the little audience, whose hearts had burned, 
 whose eyes had wept, whose faith had increas- 
 ed, and whose purpose to bear all, for the cause 
 in which they had engaged, had been more firm- 
 ly established, while listening to his discourse, 
 he said to them, in a cheerful manner, l My 
 friends, when we part in these times, we have 
 very little certainty of meeting again. But 
 our best friend, Jesus Christ, goes with us all. 
 He is company enough. And should^ any thing 
 happen to any of us, when we have no one to 
 give us assistance, he will take care of us.' 
 
 When he had thus said, he left the house, 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 79 
 
 fearing that he had been already too long there, 
 as it was not improbable that some notice of 
 the meeting might have reached the persecutors. 
 Both because it was the safest place, and be- 
 cause he meant to spend the remaining part of 
 the Sabbath night in private prayer and sup- 
 plication to God in behalf of the suffering peo- 
 ple, he withdrew, unaccompanied to the cave, 
 never suspecting that any of his enemies observ- 
 ed him. But there had been a Judas among 
 those who embraced him at parting. 
 
 One of those spies, whom we have had oc- 
 casion to mention before, eager to gain the 
 reward offered to any one who should bring 
 '"formation which might lead to the appre- 
 hension of Mr. Bruce, took the following meth- 
 od to compass his design. 
 
 With the consent and privacy of Macd uff, ha 
 entirely forsook his house, lived among the 
 peasants, and, as he was one who had formerly 
 sworn the covenant, he manifested the deepest 
 contrition for the aid he had given to those who 
 sought the ruin of the covenanters. He gave 
 proof of the greatest zeal in everything which 
 had for its end their safety ; revealed to them 
 many schemes which were contrived for their 
 destruction ; and showed always the most sen- 
 sible alarm lest he should fall into the hands of 
 those he had last deserted. By these artifices, he 
 gained the confidence of those with whom he 
 now associated ; and had continued with them 
 more than a month, supporting always the 
 same character, before Mr. Bruce happened to 
 visit his people. The night of which we have 
 spoken was the first time he had ever got into 
 6 
 
80 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 his presence. Mr. Bruce noticed him : but, 
 both from the manner in which he behaved 
 during the meeting, and from the account he 
 had received of him, he entertained no suspicion 
 of his real designs. This man, if he deserve the 
 name, dogged Mr. Bruce, through the darkness 
 of night, to the cave ; and, as soon as he saw 
 him enter, sped to the village, to give infor- 
 mation. 
 
 It was midnight when he reached the cu- 
 rate's house. And although this monster would 
 not have risen from his bed at that hour to save 
 a soul from death, he instantly got up, and, 
 with the malignant satisfaction of an evil spirit, 
 when it hath compassed some infernal aim, 
 hastened to inform the few soldiers who were 
 in the village. No time was lost. It was at 
 first resolved to bring Mr. Bruce to the village, 
 and send him thence, to be executed in Edin- 
 burgh. But, as the appearance of a Dutch fleet 
 on the north coast of Scotland had, at that time, 
 occasioned the withdrawing of most of the 
 troops from the West, they were afraid that 
 the handful they could collect, would not be 
 sufficient to repel the peasants, whose ardent 
 attachment to Mr. Bruce, they had every rea- 
 son to suspect, would excite them to attempt a 
 rescue. Urged by this reason, and determined, 
 at any rate, to make sure of Mr. Bruce's death, 
 Macduff said to the commanding-officer, ( Go, 
 and shoot the rebel wherever you find him. 
 The king will reward you for it. 3 
 
 The soldiers, about ten in number, set out 
 from the village, conducted by the spy, and led 
 by an officer well fitted to execute a bloody com- 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 81 
 
 mand. As the ground was covered with snow, 
 and the way extremely rugged, they could make 
 no use of their horses, and were therefore oblig- 
 ed to leave them behind. But, although the 
 storm of winter howled around their heads, and 
 the darkness of night brooded on the rough and 
 way less moors, keeping by the direction of the 
 spy, not far from the stream up which the cave 
 lay, they urged on, as if they had been going 
 on a message of extraordinary mercy. 
 
 About three in the morning, they reached 
 the vicinity of the cave. Two or three soldiers 
 were posted on a crag above it, one or two en 
 the opposite side of the stream, to prevent the 
 possibility of Mr. Bruce escaping, while the oth- 
 ers scrambled up the dilficult ascent which led 
 to the mouth of the cave. The spirit of the 
 blast of night moaned dolefully among the for- 
 lorn cliffs : the Ayr, half fettered in ice, grum- 
 bled at their feet ; and the leafless trees, by which 
 they supported themselves as they ascended the 
 rock, waving to the wind, seemed to utter cur- 
 ses on the ruffians' heads. Hardened as they 
 were in ruthless deeds, their guilty hearts inter- 
 preted every sound they heard as an indication 
 of coming wrath. They trembled like the leaf 
 which the wind passeth over : and as they stood 
 still involuntary before the abode of the holy 
 man, they heard issuing from the mouth of the 
 cave the following words. Yea, for Zion's 
 sake, will I not hold my peace, Holy Father, and 
 for Jerusalem's sake/ 1 will not rest, until the 
 day of her mercy come. Hast thou forsaken 
 Zion, O Lord ? hast thou forgotten the people 
 of thy love ? Our temples are desolate : the 
 
82 THE PERSECUTED FAMILF. 
 
 courts of thy holiness are defiled :thy children 
 are scattered on the mountains : they weep and 
 cry in the desert. The harp of their sorrow 
 hangs on the willow, and mourns to the blast 
 of the wilderness : the wastes of nature are 
 watered with their tears : their blood is poured 
 forth, and there is none to pity them! Surely 
 we are a sinful nation ; a people laden with in- 
 iquity. We have forsaken thee : we have pro- 
 voked the Holy One of Israel to anger. But O, 
 Merciful and Holy One ! God of salvation ! look 
 down from heaven, and behold from the habi- 
 tation of thy holiness ; and let the bow of thy 
 mercy be seen in the wilderness. Thou wilt 
 not forsake us. 1 know thy church is graven 
 on the palms of thy hands : her walls are con- 
 tinually before thee ; and the point of every 
 weapon that is lifted against her wilt thou at 
 length turn into the soul of him that lifted it. 
 Haste, God and Father to deliver us ! Turn 
 the hand of oppression from our country, that 
 thy people may dwell in freedom and peace. 
 And while thou seest meet that they should 
 wander on the mountains, and suffer in the 
 cause of their country, O give them patience, 
 and fortitude, and strength. Let them take 
 comfort that in all their afflictions the Captain 
 of their salvation is afflicted, and that the Angel 
 of thy presence shall save them. Stretch over 
 them' the shield of thine omnipotence : guide 
 the path of their trials by thine all-comprehend- 
 ing wisdom : fill their hearts with thine inex- 
 haustible love : save them, O Lord ! Save and 
 support them in death ! And O, Father ! when 
 the day of thy vengeance arriveth, and the year 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 83 
 
 of restitution to the spoilers of our land doth 
 come, have mercy on those who have had no 
 mercy on us. Soften the hardness of their 
 hearts : open the blindness of their eyes. O, 
 cast them not away from thy presence forever ! 
 For who among them shall dwell with the de- 
 vouring fire ? who among them shall dwell with 
 everlasting burnings ? 5 
 
 Thus did the holy man, in the darkness of 
 night, in the cave of the cold rock, plead with his 
 God for our church and our country. 
 
 The fell assassins still stood before the cave, 
 trembling at the words they had heard, and the 
 holy confidence with which they were uttered. 
 And the most fearless and stout-hearted among 
 them wished the task of murdering this servant 
 of Jesus had fallen to other hands. After a 
 short pause, however, the officer, ashamed to 
 have felt something like humanity moving with- 
 in him, which he considered as cowardice, sud- 
 denly entered the cave, ordering two of his men 
 to follow. 
 
 Mr. Bruce, who was kneeling when he enter- 
 ed, arose. A few embers, that burned on the 
 floor of the place, helped to show his appear- 
 ance. His forehead was bald, and his few re- 
 maining locks were gray. His figure, although 
 nothing improved by his half-worn and little- 
 befitting clothes, was elegant; and the serene 
 and peaceful dignity of his countenance, which 
 changed not at the entrance of the soldiers, was 
 such as might impress the beholder with respect 
 and awe. 
 
 ' You are come, 5 said he mildly, addressing 
 the officer, f you are come to apprehend me. 
 
84 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 1 am prepared to go with you. You, perhaps, 
 have a better lodging tor me than this ; although, 
 as it is, I have been often glad to get to it. 5 
 
 ' My orders are,' said the officer, ( to offer 
 you the test ; and if you refuse it, to put you to 
 death on the spot.' 
 
 c Nay, then,' said Mr. Bruce, smiling, c is 
 heaven so near ? You are going to send me to 
 better lodgings indeed.' 
 
 c But will you take the test.' said the officer, 
 { and save us the expense of" a shot ?' 
 
 ' God be my witness,' said Mr. Bruce, the true 
 fortitude of the Christian strongly marking his 
 countenance as he spoke ; ' God be my witness, 
 I will never swear away my allegiance from the 
 King of kings, who is my Saviour and Master. 
 I will not submit to that which my conscience 
 condemns. I will not connive at the enslaving 
 of my country.' 
 
 6 Have done,' said the officer ; ' have done.' 
 
 * I have done,' replied Mr. Bruce, with un- 
 faultering voice. And, lifting up his hands, he 
 prayed, and said, ' Lord Jesus, forgive my ene- 
 mies. Lord Jesus, be with the poor people I 
 leave in this wilderness. Father, Son, and Holy 
 Ghost, receive my spirit !' 
 
 When he had thus spoken, the officer com- 
 manded his men to discharge their carabines on 
 Mr. Bruce. The reverend minister glanced a 
 look upon them, and they refused to obey. 
 ( Faint-hearted slaves,' exclaimed the enraged 
 officer ; and, snatching a carabine from the hand 
 of one of the soldiers, discharged its contents 
 into the breast of Mr. Bruce. The martyred 
 saint instantly fell down, and expired, while the 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 85 
 
 report of the fatal shot yet echoed among the 
 wild cliffs around. Farewell, good and faithful 
 servant ! Thou hast entered into the joy of 
 thy Lord ' 
 
 Still, Religion, thou art happiness ! The 
 joys which thou pourest into the heart he not 
 within the reach of any weapon that the hand 
 ol man can form. The calm which thou set- 
 tlest on the soul, the wing of no earthly blast 
 can disturb. The light by which thy children 
 walk is the candle of the Lord, which can never 
 be quenched. Thou plantest a torch ibr them 
 in the gloom of death's darkness ; and support- 
 est their goings on the rod and the staff of the 
 Almighty. Thou conductest their spirits to the 
 feast of immortality, and layest their bodies 
 down to sleep in peace till the morning of the 
 resurrection. Wo unto him that seeketh his 
 happiness apart from thee ! He shall be mis- 
 erably disappointed. 
 
86 THE PERSECUTED FAMILY 
 
 HEADER, I have now finished this short ac- 
 count of the PERSECUTED FAMILY. In it I 
 have had occasion to introduce thee to somt of 
 the sufferings that were endured, and some of 
 the cruelties that were exercised, by our ances 
 tors of the seventeenth century, the former, 
 for the sake of religion, and all the dearest rights 
 of men ; the latter, to extirpate liberty, and 
 leave to posterity the chains of servitude. The 
 sufferings of the family, to which I confined 
 myself, did not lead me to bring into view the 
 most exalted Christian heroism which was in 
 these times manifested ; and, unwilling to shock 
 the tender feelings of the heart, I have studious- 
 ly avoided some of those monstrous cruelties 
 which were then exercised, and which, without 
 going out of my way I might have introduced. 
 Thou hast seen enough, however, kind reader, 
 of the latter, to abhor it ; and of the former, to 
 admire it. I know thou hast nraised their pa- 
 tience, and their resignation, and their hope, 
 and their faith, and their fortitude in death. 
 Thou hast marked their stanch adherence to 
 the dictates of conscience, the ardor of their 
 devotion, and their love of liberty and their 
 country. And, while thou sittest in peace, con- 
 scious that thou mayst worship thy God as 
 thou thinkest the Bible orders thee, thou per- 
 haps givest them, who suffered so much to se- 
 cure thee this liberty, the sacred applause due 
 
THE PERSECUTED FAMILY*. 87 
 
 to their exertions. It is right that it shoulc 
 be so. 
 
 But I wish thee not to stop here. I wish 
 thee to trust in and to adore the grace of God, 
 which supported them, and gave them the vic- 
 tory ; to admire the wonderful resources of 
 that religion which they professed, how suf- 
 ficient they are to instruct and advise the Chris- 
 tian, in the devious and difficult paths, to keep 
 his heart warm in the coldest winter of adver- 
 sity, to invigorate him, as he climbs the steepest 
 ascents of virtue, and to uphold and sus- 
 tain his soul in the face of the most violent of 
 deaths. 
 
 Nor hath the Christian of the present day 
 need only to admire the marvellous sources frorr 
 which his suffering ancestors drew. He hath 
 not less need than they to draw for himself. His 
 enemies are more concealed, more mannerly, 
 more deceitful, and, therefore, less apt to excite 
 his suspicion, and put him on his guard. Per- 
 secution labors to force the Christian out of his 
 way, whether he will or not ; and, therefore, the 
 spirit of liberty within him encourages him to 
 make a bold lesistance. In the days of peace 
 and prosperity, he is assailed by pleasures, 
 which, endeavouring to draw him out of his 
 path, by the sweetness of their song, and the 
 fairness of their promises, excite little suspicion 
 of their design, and are, therefore, often little 
 resisted. 
 
 If the persecuted Christian needs moie of 
 comfort, of steadfastness in peril, of patience, re- 
 Rignation, and fortitude, he who lives in peace 
 
88 T1IE PERSECUTED FAMILY. 
 
 icquires more of watchfulness, of selfoiemal, 
 and of resistance to temptation. If our wants 
 are, therefore, as numerous, so should our 
 applications be to that inexhaustible source, 
 which supplied all theirs, and which will sup- 
 ply all ours, if we approach it with our whole 
 heart 
 
 THE EXtD. 
 


 
 
 
 
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